The rest of the week passed by as Shaya expected. Keeping her head down just encouraged more of Azreon’s goons to harass her, and even drew more people into his circle when they too learned they could harass her to gain his favour. Fortunately for her, most of them were like Galo – unable to provoke a response from her – and so the insults faded into a background buzz as she went about her studies.

She had, however, purchased a new notebook to keep track of the who, when, and where of the worst instances of harassment. With this, she started to map out Azreon’s network as it grew, who made up its base, and what made those people tick. While she promised her Lancemates not to do anything about it immediately, Shaya certainly didn’t plan on letting these insults go unpunished indefinitely if they didn’t sort themselves out.

She was already growing tired by playing by the rules of their game – a game where she was at a notable disadvantage. Shaya had already placed more trust in the people around her – her Lance in particular – than she felt comfortable with, and felt that it wasn’t being repaid in kind. Regret mingled with nostalgia in her mind, as she wished for the simpler days in Kelahk, where insults were open and resolving things with a friendly fist fight put things to rest.

In some ways though, she was actually thankful to Azreon and his goons. Two and a half days of solid harassment did wonders for her ability to control her emotions. All of her classes encouraged some level of distraction during the spell casting periods, to simulate ‘realistic’ environments, which is when Azreon or his followers pushed their harassment under the guise of ‘class participation’. Shaya was starting to get a better grasp of her emotions under this duress, improving her ability to draw and maintain her aether.

But it came with a cost.

Shaya had to acknowledge she wasn’t learning spells as quickly as the other students around her. Amber magic was especially difficult for her, with Basillo siding with Azreon and also harassing her during class. In contrast, Auric and Bari seemed to have zero tolerance for such behaviour and punished any who stepped out of line. Amaurea had yet to intervene, but harassment was minimal in Conjuration – Shaya and the rest of the students were still too terrified of mishaps to worry about social standing.

Shaya also had to admit that more people paid her no mind than those that didn’t. As much as she wanted to disparage the entire system, Azreon and his ilk made up a small – but infuriating – group of people. While none of this majority came to her aid, Shaya could tell that plenty of people were not impressed by Azreon’s actions. Something she planned to leverage later, if needed.

“Oh no,” Amaurea said as Shaya and her friends approached her after class, “Not you lot again – you realize I have office hours, right?”

“Sorry Doctor,” Shaya said, chuckling, “I have other commitments at the same time. We’ll keep it short this time, I promise!”

“That’s what you said the last time,” the professor’s eyes narrowed, “but alright, I can’t discourage inquisitive behaviour...”

Amaurea paused to consider her wording, then shook her head. Like last time, they began to leave as a group, Apricot joining them.

“Are you heading out for dinner with the family again?” Shaya asked.

“No,” Amaurea shook her head, “the food riots have climbed up another layer, and I’d feel guilty fine dining when others are starving. I just wish there was more I could do to help them.”

The what?

Samorn nodded to Amaurea, knowing what she was talking about already.

“Where’d you hear that from?” Shaya asked, wanting to stay informed as well.

“The Academy has a billboard where news is posted,” Amaurea explained, “I’m sure Samorn can show you where it is, I’ve seen her there at times too. So, your academic question?”

“Alright,” Shaya began, “Are you sure about what you said before about spirits remaining in their Class? I saw one of my...classmates invoke Serra, one of the founding heroes of the Arcadian Empire, and she had gone full angel in her appearance – six wings and all.”

Amaurea cleared her throat and looked sheepish, “I’m sorry, I’ve been told I can’t actually discuss that topic with you. I said too much about it already, so let’s pretend I never mentioned it.”

“Okay,” Shaya nodded, not wanting to have her favourite teacher exiled. Amaurea couldn’t answer any questions about binding espers last time, either. “Over to you Samorn.”

“Vulkhad protect me,” Amaurea said, “I’m being tag teamed.”

Shaya dropped back to walk next to Apricot, “How are you settling in?”

Apricot gave her a shy smile, “Oh, I’m doing...okay. My Lance has had difficulty accepting me, I think. And getting used to the Empire has been difficult – aside from learning about the common races here, identifying nephilim based on their line of descent has been troublesome.”

“You don’t have many nephilim or races in Vulkhad?”

“Oh no,” Apricot corrected quickly, “the Protectorate is likely even more diverse racially speaking, but nephilim are much less common. Or at least... much less common than here at the Academy, anyway. But there are so many gods here that bore so many demi-gods that figuring out the lines of just Astorian descent is difficult, and at least I’m vaguely used to them!”

“Ah, yeah,” Shaya nodded, “most people only worry about referring to one of the Seven as their progenitor, rather than identifying which demi-god they descended from. The nephilim of Kassarah excluded, given, well, the corruption of an entire line of them. No one wants to get exterminated by the inquisition,” Shaya gave an awkward chuckle.

“Oh...”

“It’s only happened once, from what I understand,” she added quickly, “I wouldn’t worry about it happening while you’re around. Even my progenitor and His descendants were left alone, despite some...obvious flaws in our inheritance.”

Apricot merely nodded.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out before I do,” Shaya chuckled, “you’re really smart. Your Lance will come around too; you’re too nice not to like. In the meantime, though, would you like to study and hang out with us more?”

“That would be great,” Apricot gave her a wide smile.

“You’re all making good progress towards your first casting of Summon Creature,” Amaurea asked, done answering Samorn’s question. “Have you all selected which being to summon first?”

Since Conjuration wasn’t limited to a single colour, Amaurea instead offered a list of suggestions for a person’s first summoned creature. All of the starters were simple beings, mostly mindless and not something you would form a permanent bargaining relationship with. That made them easier to command through willpower alone, which the professor wanted her students to hone before having them bargain with millennia-old entities of great power.

“Definitely a Beacon,” Bri answered without hesitation, “A floating ball of light that can shoot beams of fire? Count me in!”

“You would pick a lesser angel,” Shaya joked.

“Oh yeah, and what are you going with Miss High and Mighty?”

“Primal crows - they’re excellent scouts, they’re smart enough to use tools, and they can harass enemies in a fight if needed.” Shaya explained, “What was your first summon, Doctor?”

“Please, just call me Rea,” she responded with a smile, “My first summon was a pony.”

“...why?”

“You’d be surprised by how many monsters just want to eat a delicious pony.” Her smile grew wistful. “Such perfect bait, the poor bastards.”

+++++

Shaya’s final class was Game Theory. It took place once per week, for three hours in the evening before the weekend. To make matters worse, it was taught by Professor Zaal, who made the topic as boring as possible and was as demeaning as their first encounter. The only bright side is that he indiscriminately insulted most of his ten students for one perceived flaw or another.

Azreon was blissfully absent from this class as well, which Shaya actually thanked the gods for. Having him in half her classes was already too much, but his influence here seemed even more limited than elsewhere. Despite her boredom, it was a mostly peaceful class and the longest she got to spend around Oraeus – her only other Lancemate that was taking it.

“Each week,” Zaal droned on, “I will introduce you to a new concept that can be expanded to the real world. Alongside that concept, you will learn a new strategy game that emphasizes the lesson and will be graded on your last match of the evening. Each week, the games will become more and more complex...”

And so, in their first class they spent three hours playing a foreign game called chess.

“Don’t you find this game...too simple?” Shaya complained to her opponent, Oraeus.

He nodded, not taking his eyes off the board, “It is, but it’s only intended to showcase the importance of thinking several steps ahead of your opponent and how even your own actions could limit your options in the future.”

“I get it,” Shaya agreed, “But the perfect symmetry, lack of bluffing or hidden pieces makes it a poor representation for actual war.”

“Those will come with time, I’m sure,” Oraeus reassured her, making his move just before his time ran out. Again.

Since her game against Oraeus wasn’t graded, Shaya experimented with a defensive strategy. Each piece only moved into spaces where its loss could be immediately avenged, but she quickly found that her thick wall of defenders limited her offensive options too much.

“So, what made you enlist to come to the Academy?” She asked, hoping to get in some banter with her otherwise estranged Lancemate, “you don’t seem that interested in war or violence, if you don’t mind me saying so, and I’m surprised you didn’t just come here as a normal student.”

He ignored her question, focusing on his move. He made it before his final grain of sand fell and Shaya saw him positioning for a checkmate on the following move. He flipped the glass of sand, then responded to her question when her twenty seconds began to tick down. “You’re correct, I’m not,” he said, tone still disinterested and distant, “but enlisting comes with a level of prestige that simply enrolling does not – and it also allowed me to bring Ralus, who might not otherwise have gained the opportunity.”

“You’re a good man,” Shaya replied, analyzing the board. She spied a few ways to avoid losing the next turn, but few ways to turn the game around in her favour. “I’m looking forward to working together – and our practice session tomorrow. I think it will be enlightening.”

“I’m not looking to be your friend, Shaya,” Oraeus stated without scorn, “and, while I appreciate the current situation isn’t entirely your fault, I doubt we’d ever become friends now. So, please spare me the effort.”

With nothing left to gain from their game, socially or intellectually, Shaya tipped her king onto its side with plenty of sand left on her timer. “Fair enough,” she said, standing to find her next opponent and get more practice in, “best of luck on your graded match, Oraeus.”

“You are still showing too much mercy, especially to your weaker units,” Zaal chided her, watching her final game of the evening, “and it has cost you many games this evening. I expected more from you.”

Shaya shrugged, “The strategies worked better before you kept announcing the sympathy I show for the ‘lives’ of my game pieces. Were they real people, I’m sure my troops would appreciate it. I’m also sure many troops wouldn’t appreciate being sent to their deaths as mere bait.”

“I see you already possess the flawed logic of an Amber mage,” the professor sighed and shook his head, “Soldiers will do as they are ordered. While seeking to spare the lives of those under your command is an honourable notion, choosing to sacrifice no one and instead losing the war is the greater disservice to your people."

“You’re not wrong,” Shaya agreed, “I would do whatever it takes to win a war, but I don’t think it's necessary to prosecute war as brutally and mercilessly as you insist, especially not out the gate. I also think you lot underestimate the value of ‘weaker’ units.”

She moved a mere pawn forward and looked to her opponent, “Check mate.”

“No it’s not,” he sputtered, looking at the board state.

Zaal and her opponent looked over the board. Her opponent had been so focused on dodging her elite units that he moved his king too close to a pawn.

“Ha!” He shouted, moving his king and knocking over the pawn that threatened him.

“Illegal move,” she replied, pointing at one of her rooks, “this elite piece is protecting my pawn.”

“Well, my king kills the pawn that threatens his life!” Her opponent replied. “Better to be killed by someone of stature anyway!”

“Is it now?” Shaya queried, “Dead is dead, no?”

“He speaks of legacy,” Zaal explained.

“Oh?” She turned to Zaal and quirked an eye brow at him, “Don’t the winners write history to their liking anyway?”

Zaal nodded to her – if not in agreement, at least acknowledging her point – and the skill she kept hidden during her exhibition games.