The enormous gate of the academy loomed before Mary and her mentor in silence. She couldn’t tell what metal were they made of, because of the multitude of reliefs, and even a few fully three-dimensional sculptures protruding out of its surface. Ok, well, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell it on sight anyway, but she had an additional excuse, so… you know. She wondered if she’d be able to touch the thing - the sun was already cooking her to well-done, and she’d only left the car a minute ago. Metals she knew of tended to absorb quite a lot of heat… A wooden sign told her that she was already on the Brutus Saint’s Academy’s property, and therefore both littering and loitering were strictly prohibited.

“Um… aren’t those a bit impractical, if the gate is actively used? Like, say, in a siege?” Mary asked. This warranted a few seconds of pointedly louder buzzing from her SJW, but its rollers remained still - apparently, it wasn’t a fine-deserving crime.

Bromman lifted an eyebrow at her. “After all you’ve seen so far, you still expect things to be practical?” When he put it that way… “Still, it does fulfil many functions, and its defensive role isn’t nearly as important as it would seem. You may one day see yourself in a situation when the fate of the world will balance on a thin line of morale, and the right kind of inspiration may give it exactly the nudge it would need.”

Mary gave the art another look. Of course, she couldn’t truly appreciate all of it - the art didn’t stop at eye-level, and they were standing close enough that looking at anything past the second floor made her neck hurt. What she saw was well made, as far as she could tell, and some of the scenes were quite interesting. Mary saw a man with a bull’s head steering a chariot with one hand and aiming a minigun with the other. He was opposed by a lasso-spinning man in a cowboy’s hat and a tunic that made her think about Rome, or maybe Greece… something ancient, anyway.

There was a lonely figure standing before… Mary couldn’t tell what he was standing before, but it sure had a lot of whirls on it and some sort of tentacles. She got dizzy just by looking at it for a couple of seconds. She glanced at the man once more - he was bent down in a bow to the monstrosity, but his left hand was reaching for the broad sword resting in a sheath on his right leg.

And then, there was a full three-dimensional sculpture of a tiny angel flying in front of a burning giant towering over a wide, spiky ring. Could that be the academy? She wondered how detailed the sculpture was, and whether she could see the same scene in a miniature on the sculpted academy’s gate if she had a looking glass. Every artwork seemed masterfully crafted, but this particular sculpture gave her a strange, warm feeling. Still, she could tell something wasn’t right. She drew closer, trying to ignore the heat radiating off the heated metal, and squinted her eyes. There, it was the shadows - they didn’t match the sun, not entirely at least - the scene looked as if it was illuminated from the back, and the shadows pointed towards her.

Mary jumped away upon hearing a loud banging coming from the door and fell over, covering her trousers with hot sand. She looked around and saw Bromman knocking on the gates with a closed, gloved fist. He didn’t seem to care whether he ruined some of the finer art or not. Both wings of the massive gate started opening with an unpleasant, grinding noise, taking their sweet time and uncaring for her ears. In response to Mary’s accusatory glare, her mentor only shrugged. Oh, right, she probably should have been vigilant and not let him catch her off guard. At least she didn’t have anything too easily breakable in her backpack… she wondered if the academy teachers would be much like him. She was conflicted about whether she wanted them to.

Finally, the gap in between the gate wings widened enough to let her see the other side. The first thing she noticed was an enormous golden bull, with its horned head lowered and ready to charge. Mary stumbled backwards and almost fell again. She quickly noticed that it was just a sculpture, if extremely lifelike. It was barely lower than the walls, and its belly formed a roof over the road leading to academy buildings. Even the highest of them seemed only to reach the bull’s massive thighs.

The thing was gorgeous in its own way, and even from a distance, she could see the details the sculptor put into the thing - tension of its muscles, fury frozen in its eyes... The way the evening sun reflected on its sides suggested that there was even some texture imitating fur. Considering the things gargantuan size, this must have taken years, or maybe decades to create. Was all this done only to startle newcomers? Even now, after realising that she was in no real danger, she felt a little uncertain standing in the beast’s path.

“Oh right, Tanuor,” Bromman said, strolling forward on a flagstone covered path. “One of the more commercially successful students funded it as a gift to this place that gave him so much. I’ve heard that they tried to get rid of it for years - as you can see, their success in the matter was just as spectacular as their foresight.”

“Why would they want to do that?”

“Can’t you guess?” Bromman asked.

She thought about it for a good thirty seconds and tried, “To free up some space?”

Bromman shook his head. “No, they do not care about that sort of things. It’s taxpayer’s money, not theirs - they could have easily annexed more ground if they wanted. No, the problem is - the sculpture looks very impressive… from the front.”

“Oh.”

“As you may have guessed, the principal does not approve of taking photographs of the complex from anything other than the west side. Though of course-”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence because at that moment, an explosion rang out from behind them. Mary whirled around and saw a giant kneeling on one knee in the desert they had just ridden through. Its toes were higher than the academy walls - the entire being must have been taller than mountains! Mary immediately started running away, charging at the bull that no longer seemed as scary. She only made a couple steps before the calm, yet firm voice of Bromman stopped her in her tracks.

“Stop,” he said. “Do not act on instinct. What are you to do in situations like this one?”

Mary tried to remember her training, or at least make her thoughts loud enough to hear them over the beating of her heart. “Judge the danger. But-”

“And how would you describe this danger?” he asked. The giant started to rise, and flames started to crawl all over his muscular body. She was having a Déjà vu…

“It looks like a single, large opponent without any minions,” Mary said.

A tiny figure took off from the academy to meet the newcomer - one that looked roughly like a human with wings, or at least she thought she could see something like this - it was rather far, even for her overall great sight.

“And…?”

“There seems to be a single defender. But…”

“Correct. And what did I tell you to do in cases like this?” Bromman asked calmly.

She strained her memory while her heart was screaming at her that she should be straining her legs instead. “If possible, run to the side and never stay directly behind any of the combatants. If not, run away from any crowds or buildings in the area.”

“Good, but too slow. If that thing wasn’t at the other side of academy wards, you might have been dead by now.” He sighed. “This will come with time, but you need to focus. All it takes is one slip up.”

“So,” Mary asked, “shouldn’t we be running to the side? Or, away from the academy?”

Bromman shook his head. “No, not this time. See, today’s hero took the battle outside the wards, and if we wanted to get away from it any further, we’d have to get closer first.”

Mary looked around. “But where is everyone else? Shouldn’t more people be joining that angel?”

Bromman sighed. “They probably should, but they won’t. Cataclysms on this scale usually won’t happen without a prophecy, and since there is already a hero in action, everyone assumes that they’re the one prophecised to take this task to its end.” He spat on the ground, and the saliva sizzled on the burning stones. “If you are ever in a situation like that hero’s, lure the danger here. The wards will give you an advantage, and others may feel just enough heat near their precious rears to go and do something.”

“So… shouldn’t we help him?”

“Again, no. First, you can neither fight nor have any identified special traits that would make you useful in this kind of work. Your powers should awaken soon, if they hadn’t started yet. You’ll probably also get something unique soon, by the way - everyone does. Not everyone gets something impressive, though.” He shook his head again. “And right now, since I’m your mentor, I’m a target number one for that thing to focus on. Not getting in situations like this is the most useful skill one can get in the mentoring business.”

“But, but… we have to do something!”

“Yes. And the something, in this case, is waiting.”