Feeling better already, Shaya stepped back into the central room and moved towards the bathroom. Bri still leaned with her back against the wall next to it, turning her head to shout into the room. “Come on Ren! I know it’s magic, but you’ve been in there for an hour!”

“Do you have any idea how long it takes fur to dry Bri?” A smooth, silken voice came from within the bathroom. A moment later, a tall, lithe man walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and while he used another to rub at his long, blonde hair with clawed fingers. Water glistened on ropey muscles and defined abs, his lean body covered from head to toe in jagged white tattoos, but what drew Shaya’s attention was the big, fluffy tail that poked out from the lower towel and swished through the air. Large, fox-like ears poked from Ren’s head as well, covered in white fur that ended with red tips just like his tail.

“Like what you see?” He asked with a smirk, tail twitching with amusement as he noticed Shaya taking him in. He lowered the towel and slicked back his wet, white hair with a hand.

Shaya blushed and looked away, “I haven’t seen another demigol in a long time, longer still for one of us descended from Sillanir and bearing full animal features.”

“Suuure,” he said, drying his hand on the towel around his shoulders before offering it to her, “Cyren Rikat, I look forward to being your mate.”

“My what?” Her blush deepened.

“You know – mate.” His smile grew until it showed pronounced canines, “A friend.”

“Stop teasing the new girl, Ren.”

“Jealous?” He turned back to Briariel.

“Definitely,” she said, dripping sarcasm, “I thought I was the only giant woman you had eyes for.”

Oh no, Bri...

Ren’s bright yellow eyes lit up. “Come now, ladies,” he said, “you should know that I’m more than capable of plea-urf!”

His retort was cut off as Bri jabbed him lightly in the kidneys.

“You’re incorrigible, Ren.” Bri glared at down at him, “And don’t you dare start talking about how you enjoyed that.”

Ren snapped his mouth shut and his fuzzy ears drooped, “Yes, mistress.”

“Everything out of his mouth sounds like innuendo, doesn’t it?” Shaya asked, recovering from his initial pass at her.

“Yep,” Bri crossed her arms, “you get used to it. I’ll see you two downstairs in a minute.”

“My name’s Shaya, by the way,” she said to Ren, offering him her hand, “It’s a pleasure.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he smiled back at her, shaking the offered hand. “Don’t worry, my reputation is greatly exaggerated.”

“Phew!” Shaya chuckled, “A girl needs her sleep, you know?”

“Not in my experience.”

Damn it, walked into that one.

With that, Ren went to his room and Shaya entered the bathroom. While smaller than her room, it was huge by her standards. She walked towards one of the three wash basins against one wall, her rogue honed senses picking up a subtle slope towards the back that held multiple shower stalls. She’d heard of magic like this in the past, and couldn’t wait to try it out.

With a wave, Shaya activated the glyph at the wash basin, which conjured a stream of warm water that filled it. She splashed it on her face and felt more of the tension leave her shoulders as she cleaned up. Her hands and forearms still bore bruises and scabbed over nicks from her latest battle, and her leg still felt stiff from when the Cinwolf had gouged at her.

My body sure tells more than a few stories. She thought, looking at the even older scars across her forearms. Maybe I’ll get a chance to fully heal this time around.

With another wave, Shaya turned off the water glyph and patted her skin dry. Feeling refreshed, she moved to join the others for dinner. She noticed the other closed door now open, catching the glimpse of a neat and organized desk before she went down the stairs.

The delicious smells had only intensified, and Shaya was unsurprised to see that the round dining table was set. She went to the available chair and sat down, her eyes drawn first to the juicy pot roast sitting in the middle, atop a bed of various vegetables. Then she remembered her manners and looked across the table to her final Lancemate.

He was a tall, thin man, clad in tight-fitting, high-necked robes of deep red with gold accents and filigree. What little skin was visible was obsidian, and Shaya was surprised to find that the otherwise soft, effeminate looking man had hands that were calloused and rough. Dark red horns protruded from the crown of his head, with his white hair swept back. Eyes burned with infernal light, flickering from yellow to orange to red, as they studied her from within a gaunt face.

“Hey there,” she said, breaking the silence that had fallen as the others waited for them to introduce themselves, “I’m Shaya, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Indeed,” he said, his voice surprisingly deep and strong for his size, “I’m Oraeus Vehl.”

Well, that’s an odd introduction.

“So, Shaya,” Bri jumped in as Ral began slicing the pot roast to dish out to others, “I’m glad to see you cleaned up, but what the hells happened to you on the way here?”

“Maybe let her eat something first, Bri.” Ren chided from her other side, arm thrown over the back of his chair so he could face both of them.

“No, it’s alright,” Shaya said, salivating for delicious, delicious meat and forcing herself to turn towards Bri. “My group and I did a bit of monster hunting on my way out of Kelahk,” she said, “then I ran into a spot of trouble on the boat to Arcadia.”

“Monster hunting?” Samorn inquired from Oraeus’ right, sitting prim and proper but somehow making it look easy and relaxing, “Are you already a practiced mage then?”

Shaya shrugged, “I’m not sure if I would qualify, but I did have an instructor teach me what he could within the limitations of being unsanctioned.”

“Is that where you got all of those scars?” Bri asked, poking Shaya’s forearm.

“Thank you,” she said to Ralus as they served her a thick slice of meat. “Yeah, more than a few of my scars come from monster hunting.”

“Story time?” Bri asked, turning to the rest of the lance at the table.

“I would love to hear more,” Ral said from Oraeus’ left as they continued to serve others, “It would be valuable to become acquainted with our abilities, since we will be thrust into dangerous situations together before we know it. Our lives may depend on what others can do.”

Oraeus and Samorn nodded at this, while Cyren suppressed a yawn.

“Alright then, I’ll try to be entertaining without embellishing too much then.”

Shaya launched into the stories of some of her monster hunts, focusing on the more recent ones where she was already a proven warrior. She had to catch herself from going over the top more than once, too used to entertaining sailors than debriefing other combatants.

Or so she told herself.

While she talked, Shaya paid attention to her new companions to learn more about them. Bri and Ral both asked plenty of questions about the combat situations she’d been in, but the latter’s were focused on squad cohesion, formations, and lessons learned. Cyren only interrupted to ask how attractive people in the story were, which made Shaya feel weird thinking of them in that light. Samorn asked questions related to culture and rulership, and showed particular interest in the open county in Mangdae Duchy. Oraeus remained silent for the most part, but his interest was piqued when she mentioned the architecture of Kelahk and its stoneshapers.

She managed to consume the occasional mouthful of food while people asked her questions, but Shaya was thankful when the topic of conversation turned from her to others. Especially since it allowed her to avoid discussing the incident on the boat trip, saving her from lying to her new companions or agitating the Inquisition.

The others didn’t go into as much detail about themselves, Shaya assuming because they had a similar discussion prior to her arrival, but she still learned a bit about them. Bri was an orphan raised in an Astorian fortress monastery in Zothiri, apparently the bastard child of some romance between a nephilim and a mortal, which is why her divine blood was diluted. Oraeus revealed little about himself, only noting that he was attending the Academy as required of him by family and that Ralus was the extra attendee that high born nobles were allowed. Samorn was likewise vague, only noting that her large family had no need of her and that she was looking to expand her horizons, with Cyren joining as her extra.

“I feel we should address the Titan in the room,” Oraeus said, rather suddenly. He set his utensils down as all eyes at the table turned to him, “While I appreciate the camaraderie and find it valuable to our cohesion, we find ourselves at a disadvantage compared to the average Lance at the Academy.”

“How so?” Bri asked, frowning at him.

Here we go...

“There are only two high born nephilim at this table, instead of three.” He stated flatly, gesturing to himself and Samorn, “Even the usual tag alongs possess more divinity than those present. Ralus has been a loyal servant to my family since I was young, and their dedication to becoming a Chaplain in the Imperial Legion help off-set their weaker blood, but,” he gestured towards Shaya, Briariel and Cyren, “I don’t see the same advantages to off-set you three.”

“I do believe I just spent the past thirty minutes talking about hunting monsters,” Shaya retorted, brow knitting in annoyance.

“Even if everything you said was true, it does not make up for the fact that you are the weakest member at the table. I don’t see the faintest divine spark about you, merely mix-breeding between giants and beastfolk.”

Shaya took a deep breath to still the rage in her blood. She was proud of how calm and logical her response was, “What I told you was true, and I don’t see how your immortality puts you at an advantage here. We are all around the same age here, unless you mean that your blood afforded you better training than I received?”

Oraeus shook his head, “You are missing an important aspect of the blood: it does offer power beyond immortality. Our divine blood connects us to the Aetherium, which means magic comes more readily to us.”

“I’ve never heard that before,” Shaya admitted, “are you embellishing your abilities?”

“There is no purpose to me doing so.”

Except in making you seem stronger.

Bri cut in, heat behind her words, “Well, sorry for being such a burden on you milord, but you’re stuck with us now.”

Oraeus waved at her dismissively, “I don’t care about your social status or mine. I’m not speaking of the inequality of society – that is an unfortunate fact of our reality and you are far from the only victims. We are at a magic academy and you three will have a steep hill to climb, during which Samorn and I will have to carry additional weight.”

“Come now, Oraeus,” Samorn said, “We should not judge their abilities before we have seen them. Just because they do not have our pedigree does not mean their blood is necessarily weaker or that it will notably impact their performance.”

“I’m not trying to be mean or rude, Samorn,” Oraeus retorted, “Just realistic.”

“Well, I for one don’t disagree,” Cyren said, kicking back on his chair and putting his arms behind his head, “I certainly didn’t come here to work my tail off, so you can definitely mark me down as one very handsome burden.”

“Why did you bring him?” Oraeus asked of Samorn, a slight hint of exasperation entering his voice.

“My dear Oraeus,” she replied levelly and with a vicious politeness, “Cyren has earned my respect a hundred times over, which is more than I can say for your actions this evening. While I appreciate your realism, there are better ways of conveying your concerns that do not offend those around you.”

Damn girl, you are not as demure as you look.

“Speaking of realism,” Shaya cut in, “As Bri pointed out, we are stuck with one another. If half of us are at a disadvantage – assuming you’re correct – then we will need to find a way to make up for it.

“I came here to work hard and become as strong as I can be for my family back home,” Shaya said, giving Cyren an exasperated look, “but we may have to adapt our strategies and tactics, since the common ones that are taught might not work for our composition.”

“Well said,” Oraeus replied, “If your shields are weaker than the typical Amber mage, then we will have to rely on misdirection or deflection more than blunt force. And if Briariel’s fireballs are less powerful, then we will have to grow used to fighting multiple opponents in melee since they will not be eliminated at a distance.”

“My fireballs are great, thank you very much,” Bri growled, “but I’m willing to entertain this notion until the three of us get to prove you wrong.”

“We can only hope that is the case,” Oraeus said, but his tone suggested he wasn’t used to being wrong very often.

“We have one week before our orientation session,” Samorn noted, “I suggest we not worry about the particulars until after that. My older siblings told me much is revealed about our magical abilities then.”

“Sounds good to me,” Shaya said, “I want to get an early start on my studies, and build a new routine here.”

“If that routine includes working out,” Bri said with a smile, “you can count me in.”

“Me as well,” Ral added, giving Shaya a knife-thin smile of support.

“Perfect,” Shaya nodded and addressed the table, “that’s an excellent start. We can work up to studying overlapping classes and practicing together later.”