A scowling 2 glared at 6 from across the room, both bound to complete silence. Even the friction of 6 squirming against their brown linen wrapped pillow produced no sound. Professor Jazza had not taken kindly to 2's outburst, nor had she appreciated 6's follow up fit of laughter. A lingering, faint, cloudy blue glow still filled her eyes, even as she explained the nuances of what she had done to a very attentive 4.

"The correct term is hereditary. Not all abilities are passed through the blood; there are other… factors scholars have identified over the years. You’ll find Sorcerers and their ilk are always spouting such propaganda about noble and magical bloodlines. Utter nonsense."

Looking around the room while the Professor lectured, 6 found 5 sporting a small smile. When their eyes met, 5 raised one hand to cover his mouth. He then folded both hands and brought them to the side of his head, closed his eyes and pretended to fall asleep. Understanding flashed across 6's face and they laughed at the pantomime actions, but when no joyful noise escaped 6’s mouth, they instead smiled and nodded their head to let 5 know they understood.

Across the room, in contrast to 6's calm reaction to being muted, 2 squirmed and twisted on her pillow, dragging it against the carpeted floor in a circle, disturbing a small mound of scrolls with her actions. Overall, 6 found being forced to be silent was preferable to being forced to speak.

They couldn’t help but relax at the thought of not being called on for answers. A slight shudder ran down their spine as their thoughts switched to the theme of being made to talk. Closing their eyes, they took a deep breath and dragged their thoughts away from the memory of that small damp office, before the itch could return.

"Hereditary magic, as I just demonstrated, is flexible in its application, but is often narrow in its utility. Now before I was so rudely interrupted, I was attempting to display the differences between World magic and Hereditary magic."

The lecture took a natural pause as Professor Jazza scanned her students with her eyes. Finding this moment perfect, 4’s hand shot up into the air, stretching up to her furthest capacity, stiff and straight as a ruler, all while staring directly into the Professor’s eyes with her own deep blue.

The words were slow and drawn out, Professor Jazza’s voice dripping with mock amusement at her eager pupil’s display.

"Yes miss 4?"

"By World magic, do you mean incantations?"

Those piercing blue eyes narrowed once more till they were just a small slice of dark pupil, and 4 gulped and hurriedly added honorifics to her question.

"Miss Professor Jazza Ma'am."

The resulting lecture from 4’s question had sent 6’s poor head reeling, having only enough attention to catch a few phrases. "Only simpletons and hedgewizards referred to World magic, as such simple things! And that yadda yadda yadda." The words after that began to collapse into strange and distant deformed sounds. More importantly, on this day, the third proper day of being alive, 6 discovered the potential of pillows, and by the time the Serpent finished lecturing sternly on the properties of World magic, 6 had constructed a fantastical fortress of pillows by using the edge of bookcase for support and propping the building blocks of the new pillow empire up against up against the adjacent wall.

Soon cushions of all sizes barricaded the silent child. Sinking down into the largest of their plush surfaces, they listened sleepily to the muted sounds of a smug 1 inquiring about Divine magic. The answer a muted Miss Jazza gave was simple enough for 6; the gods gave people Divine magic. Try as 6 might, they struggled to name a God or Goddess. The feeling felt familiar as they drew back to a lack of context on monsters. After racking their brain only a single name came to mind; the Slumbering Court. 6 couldn't place where they had heard it, but as they drifted into their warm and cozy space, they imagined the type of Divine magic a God named the Slumbering Court would bestow.

Outside the impregnable pillow palace, a muffled Professor Jazza continued her lesson by discussing bloodlines, oblivious to 6’s celestial musings.

“Hereditary magic is often passed through the blood from mother to daughter, father to son, but in extreme cases sapient beings can obtain a weak bloodline through miraculous accidents or extreme fortune.”

Ignoring the Professor’s speech, 6 continued to ponder on the nature of divine powers. Maybe they gave spells that let you call down divine blankets. Really soft fluffy blankets would go well with their pillow fort.

“Bloodlines can be tested and appraised, the strength of the bloodline, the type, and the purity are all factors to be evaluated. We will spend no small amount of time in this class focusing on uncovering each of your bloodlines, and if any of you have any rare Hereditary magic locked away.”

The lesson drifted to a soft drone in the background for 6 as they considered living blankets. Maybe the Slumbering Court would grant the ability to summon blanket elementals. Inside 6’s mind, a chain reaction went off with that thought. Their head and arm burst out of the pillow fortress immediately, hand waving high in the air.

“The process of evaluating which magical affinity each of you possess will be lengthy, and just the beginning. After we’ve identified the sources, strengthening and training hereditary magic is incredibly expensive. Thankfully Princess Solessa has offered to sponsor each of you up to C-Rank.”

6 was absolutely sure Professor Jazza had to have seen them waving their hand, but she continued to drone on about other types of magic. Thinking maybe she had missed their hand in the air, 6 began to scoot forward. Once balanced on the edge of the pillow fortress, 6 leaned out to raise their hand even higher. As they wobbled on their mountain of pillows, 6 leaned just a little bit too far forward, bumping their knees against a large stack of pillows and causing the First Great Cushion Avalanche. Pillows, cushions and blankets all flooded out from the tiny space, sucking 6 down into a comfy prison, until they were buried up to their torso. Yet during the barrage of comfortable cushions, 6 kept their hand high in the air, and when Professor Jazza turned towards the source of the disturbance, her glowing blue hues met a gleefully grinning 6.

Miss Jazza lowered her head and part of her long body down to the pillow beneath her, a long drawn out exasperated hiss slipping out of her, before a golden flare swept over her eyes and she acknowledged 6’s predicament.

“Yess, number 6?”

The tired tone and flat smile Miss Jazza gave 6 made them want to hurry, so when the golden light swept over 6’s mouth, they tasted the air with a low hum before asking their question quickly,

“Are Elementals Monsters? What kind of magicks would the Slumbering Court bestow? Do they use blanket elementals or pillow elementals? Or maybe bed elementals? Is there a fluffy bloodline?”

It was more than 6 had meant to ask, but everything tumbled out as the silence spell fell away and their voice was unlocked. The vibrant blue serpent stilled at 6’s barrage of questions; throughout the conversation she had been in constant movement, yet now she came to a complete halt. When the Professor finally answered, her voice was softer, a tentative probing quality was carried to 6 by her words.

“Elementals… can be monsters, yes. Where did you learn that name, child?”

“Do the-”

The words slipped out of 6’s mouth before they remembered the one rule of this class. Their mouth immediately clicked shut mid sentence and they hand raised up into the air, eyes shining brightly with enthusiasm.

“Continue child.”

The Serpent’s voice was quiet, coaxing and soft now as she beckoned 6 to speak further.

“Well I was just thinking about.. Blankets and thought maybe there were Elementals made of blankets. The name just came to me.”

“NOT THAT! Where did you learn of the Slumbering Court?”

Jazza snapped back at 6’s earnest response, her jaw clenching as she leaned her large head forward up and off of her large cushion, pushing her pointed face and terrifying gaze towards the clueless child.

“Oh, Idontknow I just thought, maybe, they could give me some Divine magic.”

Blinking their eyes at the abrupt change in Professor Jazza’s demeanor 6 shrunk back into their pillows, letting themselves be almost completely swallowed by the pile before continuing with a squeak,

“Is that alright? Could they?”

There was a short pause as the Professor pulled back and slithered over her large pillow, her gaze flicking upwards towards the floating orbs as her eyes seemed to consider 6’s question before she answered.

“I think it’s best for you to ask your sponsor about that. I’m sure she would be delighted to hear about your desire to contact the Slumbering Court… for blanket elementals.”

The measured reply made 6 feel much better; rather than being scolded they had been given a serious answer, had a lead for a monster core, and could maybe get a magical blanket. Sinking back into the mountain of pillows behind them, their eyes began to close. For the rest of the period, 6 spent their time half listening to the Professor, their ears only perking up to tune in as she ended the lesson.

"Next class We will be evaluating each of you for hereditary magic. The Princess assured me all of you have some form of potential, and before you graduate I will help everyone unlock that potential and teach you some basic incantations."

Miss Jazza didn’t bother dismissing the class after speaking, she just lowered herself back down to the large pillow at one end of the room and closed her eyes, the floating orbs above dimming with her motions. Struggling to unearth themselves from the pillow mound, 6 was by far the slowest out of the class, having had to dig under and through the once impressive pillow palace’s ruins. Standing outside waiting was a clearly fuming 2; her fists clenched, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed into a thin line as she glared at 6.

“You laughed at me!”

The fist that accompanied 2’s shout knocked 6 back against the classroom door and caused them to crumple. Air suddenly didn’t want to go down 6’s lungs, leaving them sitting stunned, and struggling to catch their breath. Their eyes were hazy for a moment and when they blinked away the confusion, 2 stood only an arms length away, her fists clenched, golden brown skin pulled taut over tensed muscles as she stood there glaring at 6.

“I laughed at you?”

With a blank look on their face, 6 parroted 2’s accusation while slowly standing up. They propped their back against the door, pushing themselves up to their unsteady feet. Their eyes met 2’s furious face.

“YOU. LAUGHED. AT. me.”

From a shout to a whisper 2’s volume fell with each word, her expression transforming from one of rage into one of simmering anger as she ended her declaration. Her small button nose twitched as she watched 6 struggle to find their balance, her head falling down in shame, her fiery hair drooping down over her face. Watching, worried there would be another surprise, 6 saw 2’s fist unclench, her small fingertips brushing at her black and yellow eyes, trying to clear away what was surely a small speck of dirt in each.

“That was mean.”

It was the softest, quietest thing 6 had ever heard her say, as if the furious energy possessing her had been expelled in that one blow. Leaning forward, 6 had to strain to hear each word, their own expression twisting from one of confusion to one of understanding as they caught her next words.

“I’m sorry?”

Apologizing was harder than 6 thought it would be. Their first apology sounded more like a question, and when they tried to explain, it just sounded like an excuse.

“I mean, I wasn’t laughing at you! I just-”

6’s second attempt was barely acknowledged. 2 just stood there, a sullen glare plastered across her face. 6 felt the rest of their words, their reasons and explanations for why they laughed, drift away as they looked over at 2. Silence had just settled into the empty hallway, when 6 offered their hand to 2 and extended a small peace offering.

“I’m sorry for laughing… Want to go get lunch?”

Arriving late to the cafeteria, 2 waved back at 6 before breaking away and immediately dashing towards a side table filled with warm loaves of bread, thick cuts of smoked ham, and chunks of smoked cheese. Wandering over to the counter, 6 stood on their tiptoes to peer into the kitchen, finding it unfortunately empty once again. A disappointed look spread across their face for a moment, their lower lip pulling in, before they turned to the small side table and began to fill a tray.

Taking the only empty seat at the main table, 6 tore into their meal, devouring the thick dark slightly sour bread and then small pieces of cheese, before turning to gnawing on a hunk of the lightly smoked ham. It was then that they realized their crucial mistake; no water. Scooting their chair against the ground, they dashed back to the side table for a cup. Hurrying back to the table they poured a cup of cool water from a pitcher. Downing it immediately, they poured another before taking their seat and continuing their meal, this time slowly savoring the rich earthy flavors of the dark loaf between sips of water.

"Must you behave sooooo? So uncivilized?"

The snide tone of question, rather than its contents, tore 6 away from their lunch. Looking up, 6 found most eyes were watching. 2 only briefly looked up from her food, her face scrunched up, her eyes squinting as she looked between 1 and 6, her cheeks bulging from the huge piece of ham she was trying to push into her mouth. 4 just gave 6 a quick glance before looking down to stare at her empty plate with a beet red face. 1 however, had a single snowy eyebrow raised, a not quite condescending smirk twisted his thin lips, and he was staring down at an embarrassed 6. It was unfair to call them out, it was just food. It’s important to eat. 6 sat there squirming uncomfortably in their seat trying to figure it out. Why was 1 acting like this?

"I wish my meal tasted as good as yours 6."

5's deep voice and calm neutral tone broke the tension that had been quietly rising as 6 failed to find a proper response. The warm genuine smile on 5's face was reassuring to 6, it made them happy someone else understood. Food is meant to be eaten and enjoyed!

Eventually when 1 received no response, he turned back his own food and a quiet conversation with 4. Scarfing down the last few bits on their plate, 6 stood and took their plate over to the waiting bin of warm water. When they turned around to go back to their table, 5 was standing behind 6, peering over their shoulder at the bin. Sliding his own plate into the soapy water followed up with his cup, 5 turned to 6 and asked quietly.

"Why do this?"

6 didn’t have an answer, not really, it wasn't something they had thought about. They stood pondering the question even after 5 had returned to the table.

"Because it's the right thing to do?"

Muttering the words out loud to no one, 6 felt some scrap of truth in their musings. Their lack of rational reasons exposed just how hollow and shallow their thoughts and actions felt. Shaking off a dreary cloudy feeling that had begun to settle on their mind, they moved back to the table, content to wait for Alea.

"You performed excellently in class today, I was thrilled to see someone take their education seriously, even if it was just Magical Theory."

A frown formed on 6’s face as they heard 1’s conversation with 4. It felt like even 1's compliments somehow hid snide remarks or barbs, but 4 beamed back at him proudly either oblivious or indifferent to them.

6’s consideration of 1’s behavior at the dining table was cut short when Alea marched into the cafeteria flanked by two figures clad in half-plat. When the newcomers halted just behind Alea, 6 took a moment to inspect them. Silver cloth and burgundy leathers peeked from beneath the dull metal armor. Their eyes were a uniform gray, exactly like the woman who often lurked in the hallway near the sleeping chambers. In fact the longer 6 looked at the two, the more similarities they found. The only differences between the two were that one had a slight upturned chin, and the other’s hair was slightly lighter. Both figures were lithe and athletically built, their hands rested near matching short swords. Those alert gray eyes constantly scanned the room, and when their piercing steel gazes swept over 6, goosebumps rose on their arms, a sense of danger, and a thrilling feeling rose up in 6’s chest for a moment.

Alea clapped her hands, drawing 1 and 4 from their conversation, and bringing everyone's attention to her.

“It’s almost time for Dungeoneering. Please follow me closely. The classroom can be difficult to reach.”

Confused and coming down from a rush of adrenaline, 6 blinked at Alea’s words while considering them. How was a classroom difficult to reach? Their earlier thoughts came rushing back, what if this class was in a filthy, ill lit cell? A shiver passed from 6’s imagination of a cold damp dark cell, with aquamarine liquid leaking from cracks in the stone walls. Suddenly, 6 wished they had more clothing than just a pair of trousers and a shirt, as they felt an imagined chill settle over them.

The woman with darker hair gently pressed against 6's shoulder, nudging them towards the door. Startled from their concerns, 6 looked up to realize they were being left behind, again! They quickly hurried to catch up with the others, noting in the distance one of the armored figures took besides Alea, while the other moved to walk behind 6.

The walk was quiet except for 1 occasionally pointing out a detail in the mural running above them, commenting about brush strokes and color gradients while 2 walked beside him and pretended to fight the painted monsters off. 6 managed to tune out 1's explanations; it was actually becoming easier to tune out that crisp eloquent annoying voice. As they traveled, the murals above faded away, the walls dwindled from soft white to a creamy tan, and well worked wood began to replace alabaster and plaster.

Time dragged on as they walked together, the walls and ceiling having fully transitioned into fine wooden walls, with intricate carvings of creatures and masks now replacing the murals. So when 2 stepped away from the group and walked down a side passage, 6 wasn’t too surprised; they kind of wanted to check out some of the masked carvings too. They just found it strange the way her eyes had gleamed and that they must have imagined the wisp of dark vapor leaking from her sunflower yellow eyes.

Turning to the group, 6 waited for someone to stop 2, to ask where she was going. No one said anything; 1’s animated chatter died away now that 2 was gone, and all that reached 6’s ears were the group's boots striking the wooden floor in a strange, disjointed rhythm. 6 found their feet trying to match the rhythm, one two, one two, one one two, the simple beat causing their feet to drag and tap.

6’s hyperfixation on the eerie rhythm shattered when they heard it; a faint whimper had crept out from under a nearby door. Squinting their eyes, 6 discovered what must have once been impressive heavy oak, now devoured almost completely in vibrant green moss. Peeking out from beneath the overgrowth, a battered brass lever served as the handle to the surely forgotten entranceway.

Shuffling closer to the door, 6 crouched down, lowering their face to almost touch the floor. Their pale eyes swept over the door and discovered the fit between the door and floor was less than perfect. On all fours 6 scuttled closer, shadows cast by the room's occupants were just visible through the crack. No further sound came, no steps fell, no whisper joined the first, and 6 fell so intently on listening for a sign of life that they missed the first time the shadow on the floor moved.

The second twitch of shadow caught 6's eyes; it's slow crawl across the floor stopping abruptly when 6’s empty eyes came to focus on the darker patch. Wrinkling their brow in concentration, 6 looked back up at the moss covered door, quickly snapping their gaze back down to the shadow and catching it in motion. One tendril had slipped forward and curled itself partially around 6's boot, freezing once more when their eyes fell upon the darkness.

Following the meek tendril, 6 saw it connected to the gap in the doorway; the closer to the small crack between door and floor, the less solid the shadowy form became. The shadows closest to the door seemed similar to a familiar dark vapor, almost misting out in the hallway, and small clouds of gloom that seemed to swallow the light as they floated away from the door became more and more solid. Unsettled, 6 stepped back from the door, and their eyes frantically searched until they settled on the rear guard. 5 was there as well, having clearly watched the entire ordeal only a few arms length away. Running over to them, 6 felt instantly better. 5's warm hand settled onto their shoulder and he gently pulled 6 to walk beside him. The silver and burgundy clad woman fell into place behind them.

Off in the distance and just a few moments later, 4 came to a stop. A few dark seaweed strands of hair twisted about her neck and face, as she turned her head to peer down an errant corridor. A strange look lit up her face, and with a puzzled expression and wide excited eyes, she scanned a seemingly empty path. When 6, 5, and the armored escort caught up to her, she was already moving, ooo’s and aaah’s escaping her lips as she deviated away from the group, her blue lips curling into a smile as she explored.

Exchanging looks, 5 and 6 hurriedly jogged to the remainder of their much diminished group. Just as they reached the front of the group 6 heard 1 announce his departure in a confident tone.

“Stop here. Wait for my return.”

A sense of indifference rose up in 6 as they saw 1’s attention had also been snared by a secondary path. 1’s follow up instructions to the group were lost as he traveled away, the distance rapidly growing as he wandered. His lips still moved in the distance, but happily or regrettably 6 couldn’t hear what else 1 said.

Alarmed, 6 looked over at the armored woman and 5 to see if either of them would stop the wanderers. Something felt deeply troubling, 6 felt compelled to go after them, even 1. Anxiously, 6 felt like they could still close the distance between them, their steps beginning to redirect towards 1. However, 5's hand settled down on 6’s shoulder and softly squeezed, pausing, 6 turned back to look at 5 as he spoke.

"Its alright, if they were going to be hurt, our babysitters would have stopped it. Tell me, what did you see my friend?"

The deep warm voice of 5 felt reassuring, and once 6’s body began to relax, 5's gentle hand slid away from their shoulder. Together 5 and 6 walked side by side, 6 was struggling with their thoughts bouncing between finding the words to explain what they had seen, and worrying about the others.

"A door, an old door. Like really old. It was made of some kind of dark wood, but you could barely tell, cause of all the moss and stuff growing on it."

Taking a deep breath in, 6 considered how to explain the shadows, and their left ankle felt cold and clammy as they thought of relaying how the shadow had grabbed them.

"I've seen a door before, but not that one. The other one was old and dark, but not the same, definitely not the same."

A perplexed look spread across 5's face at 6's continued fumbling explanation of a door, that was a door, but not the door.

5's response was measured and slow.

"Did you see anything else? It could be important no matter how small or unremarkable it seemed."

A contemplative expression pulled across 5’s face as he spoke. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted, making the golden square pupils look larger than normal.

"Did you.. hear anything?"

The hesitant quiet voice from behind 6 surprised them. Turning around, they met the hard grey eyes of their rear guard.

"You can talk?!?"

The shock on 6's face and their shout drew surprised and then amused looks from both 5 and the guard.

"Why.. would I not be able to talk?"

Her arched eyebrow and quirked lips paired with her words and made 6 understand that they had just said something foolish.

"Well you hadn't talked before? And we've been walking together for an awfully long time."

The retort sounded ridiculous to 6’s ears even as they said it, so they tried again.

"I guess, I hadn't thought about whether you could talk or not?"

Nodding, 6 gave a warm smile with their amended response. The walk resumed in silence with 5 and the dark haired guard exchanging glances from time to time, the topic of doors pushed to the side for now.

"I saw a tree."

Eventually 5 was the one to break the silence. It made perfect sense to 6, if they had seen a door why couldn't 5 see a tree.

"Was it covered in moss?"

"No."

"Oh."

6 thought their question was perfectly reasonable and that the curious looks both shot their way were completely unwarranted.

Silence fell back around the trio, and 6 set their eyes on the distant back of Alea. Step after step, they trudged along until their legs began to complain from the long walk.

"What did the tree look like?"

The quiet curious voice of the guard was less surprising this time, and her question gave 6 something to focus on besides the growing ache in their legs.

"It was completely golden at first glance, the bark was tawny and looked soft to the touch. The leaves were in the perfect moment of changing color, each one as vibrant and honeyed as the last. It's limbs stretched up and out creating a large canopy, promising shelter beneath it."

5 paused to take a breath, his turned to gaze back down the hallway, his eyes sad and his face a mask of melancholy as he continued.

"When I took a step closer.. I wanted to be sheltered there. I wanted to recline against the trunk of the tree. I wanted to sink into the earth and become part of its roots. But when I took that single step, the wind creaked through the spiral branches, rustled through the golden leaves, and told me, it was not my turn."

The trio stood there looking back down the corridor for quite some time. 6 felt something deep in 5’s words, but didn’t know how to respond. So when they all began to continued the slow steady march to class, 6 said nothing.

The rest of the walk was heavy with emotion, the normally stoic 5 walked with a heavy weight upon his shoulders, and his strong features felt marred by traces of sorrow.

When Alea and the front guard finally pushed open a pair of large wooden doors and brought the now much smaller group to their destination, 6 was happy to have anything else to focus on. During the walk, 6 opened their mouth to speak several times, starting to say something to break the tension, but everytime their mouth closed. 6 just didn’t know how to respond; clearly the golden tree had meant something to 5, it had made him feel something, and it had made him sad. 6’s thoughts ran in circles, but any condolence or cheer 6 managed to summon to the surface felt hollow, and a quick look over at 5’s slouching form quelled any further attempt at conversation.

Once inside the room, 5 had moved over to a large round table, slipped into a seat and slumped against it, head down in his arms. What surprised 6 was the other sleeping occupants of the table; all of the others who had wandered off while they walked here. Each of them had their heads down and eyes closed, except 1 who was dozing peacefully with his head propped up by a silvery pillow.

Looking back, 6 met Alea’s eyes and then glanced towards the table where there was an empty seat. When she nodded, the exhausted 6 slipped into the last available seat, letting their head fall down against the arms. Just for a little bit, 6 would close their eyes and think about what they could do to make 5 feel better.

--------------------------------------------------

Alea watched the only two who had persevered; both seemed tired from the ordeal. It took a lot of mental fortitude to resist the forest’s call.

“What did our two prodigies see?”

Alea turned when no answer came, and saw the woman she had tasked with keeping the stragglers within the range of the glamour, staring, entranced at the sleeping form of the tanned bald boy, trainee number 5.

“Corporal Rachel!”

“Ma’am yes Ma’am!”

The automatic shouted reply caused Alea to wince and glance over at the sleeping monsters. She should have known better than to snap at the guard; she knew how on edge they all had been. This project would determine the Princess’s support base for decades to come. Alea took a deep breath; ever since being reassigned as a glorified babysitter she had needed to constantly remind herself of her purpose, her reason for being.

“Did the Forest call to them?”

“Yes Ma’am!”

Alea felt her frustration mount, her fists clenching and unclenching automatically, the air popping as she tightly compressed it in her hands.

“At ease Queen’s Guard Rachel.”

When the half-plate woman dropped her salute and loosened her shoulders, Alea glanced around once more, checking the room for any unwanted friends while waiting for Amber to return and report all clear before continuing.

“What did Our two young weapons see?”

“A door.”

The veteran of the Queen’s elite Vanguard, survivor of countless battles, and unsung heroine of Ramalur, Rachel the Riot, looked over at the sleeping 5 and swallowed once before giving the final answer.

“And a Golden Full Moon Tree.”