The moon still ruled the sky, when Tao Shi woke and began to start his day. He collected eggs from the henhouse and clipped herbs from the tiny garden nearby. Tao then moved to a small kitchen, started a small fire, and made several omelets. When Serene and little Bao woke in half a candle, they each had a warm breakfast waiting for them. The walk to Oghum's shrine and the routine cleansing of his mind, helped Tao Shi prepare for the long day ahead. Old Chief Vellit was already waiting for him at the longhouse. They exchanged simple pleasantries until the first of the merchants arrived. Harvest end always brought the merchants, and the village needed the supplies to survive throughout the winter and thrive come next summer. Once the trading for the day was over, Tao Shi stood as the Old Chief and Young Chief descended into the village vault and stowed away any necessities. That night there was a great feast, with most of the children happy to return to class now that harvest had been brought in, several happily running over to share news or tease Bao Shi before sprinting away to play. He spent that night sitting with Serene, and cradling little Bao while gazing up at the starry night sky.

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

The low buzz of conversation woke 6; they immediately became aware that sleeping bent over a table was not as comfortable as their bed. The drone of voices continued to pull at 6's attention, but while sitting up and reclining back into their chair, they couldn't find the energy to care. Their head lolled back and they stared up, expecting to see a carpet of darkness with specks of glittering light.

Instead, what greeted their eyes was the bottom of a tree canopy. Branches stretched across the ceiling, growing from one wall into another, with bright green leaves blotting out anything beyond the tree. Blinking away the sleep and moving to stand, 6 gawked up at the branches, which swayed despite the lack of a breeze.

4’s soft melodic voice cut through the soft din and directly addressed 6.

"What do you think, 6?"

Having been lost in counting the leaves on one of the branches, 6 felt confused by the sudden attention. Turning they looked at 4, their eyes wide and blinking with no response coming to them. The longer 6 stared at the curious 4, the more people turned to regard the silent pair. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as everyone watched and waited for an answer. 6 felt their cheeks grow hot and red, a flush spreading across their cheeks until 4 granted them some relief by asking her questions again.

"What do you think of the syllabus?"

"The syllabus?"

6's parroted response brought a smile to 4's face, and she leaned forward pointing down towards a piece of parchment on the table next to where 6's head had rested.

"Can't use their own eyes."

The soft barely audible mutters of 1 went ignored as 6 examined the parchment. They scanned over the words, a look of understanding spreading across their face. Looking back up 6 glanced up to answer 4, but was surprised to find everyone at the table was still paying close attention.

Across the table 2 had wide eyes, looking at an identical if now crumpled parchment in front of her. Occasionally, her head would tilt down, and she would glance over at the syllabus in 6's hands. 1 merely scoffed when 6 met their eyes but did not stop staring at the paper in 6’s hands. Even 3's form was turned towards 6, their muted gray eyes peering out at them from a forest of dark hair. 5 was the only person at the table not looking at 6, his bald head still pressed against the table. Besides them 4 was still paying attention to 6, repeating her question quietly.

“So what did you think?”

"Ah I mean, it's fine?"

"Hmph, can you read it to us?"

Crossing her arms and letting out a short exhale, 4 was clearly exasperated by 6's nonchalant response, her resulting glare at 6, and then the paper clued them in on the problem. The syllabus was written in Arkkadian.

Dungeoneering

In this class, students will learn the basic abilities of survival, centered around entering dungeons and returning safely.

Skills students will learn:

Basic Appraisal: beyond monster cores, it's important to know which materials, herbs, and other natural resources are worth gathering.

Basic Navigation: being able to find your way around a dungeon, and knowing how to find an exit will ensure your survival and success.

Basic First Aid: Injuries are often unavoidable in dungeons, whether from traps, monsters, or the environment. Knowing how to keep someone alive until you can receive proper medical care is crucial.

Intermediate Bestiary: knowing which monsters and beasts to avoid, and which to fight will improve your chances of survival.

- S. Wilde

6 looked the parchment over one final time before they began to read it aloud for everyone to hear. All of the table's occupants leaned forward, minus 5, to listen as 6 went down the syllabus. When 6 finished, 1 sniffed and leaned back into his chair, his silvery white hair bouncing lightly on his head, as he articulated his words with fluid hand motions, the black robes swirling through the air.

"Three basic subjects and one intermediate, how droll. I wonder… if a transfer to a more advanced class would be possible."

Surprised and slightly annoyed by 1's response, 6 opened their mouth to retort, but the bell rang out through the facility, cutting off any attempts at communication. Had their walk here and their nap really taken that long? 6 couldn’t help thinking it was a rather pleasant nap.

"Hmph, and… the Instructor of Basics doesn't even show up before their own class is over. Come, let us depart and make our way to combat training."

The confident condescending tone came from 1 on the heels of the bell. He pushed his seat out and stood, the others slowly followed suit, even 5 with his head still down staggered to his feet, and as the group marched away he trudged after them.

Blinking away the cobwebs of sleep, and shrugging off thoughts about a Basic Instructor that threatened to pull them down into a daydream, 6 scrambled around the table and ran to catch up with the group. Outside of the leafy classroom, 1 began to march back down the strange interior hallway, with the others walking a few steps behind.

"If you want to arrive on time, you'll need to come with me, Trainees."

Alea seemed unsurprised by 1 stomping down the hallway, if anything her tone and the slight smile spread across her face showed how amused she was by his attempt at leadership. She redirected their group down a particular corridor, taking several left turns moving to the third hallway of wood, then taking a left and repeating, until the wooden beams and pillars gave way to the alabaster and stone once more. Rather than splitting up the two guards walked together in front of the group, flanking Alea and in only a few turns, the group stood in front of a pair of heavy iron doors. An obsidian plaque hung just above with the words "Training Yard" engraved into it.

The guards moved to either side of the entrance, leaving Alea to push the thick doors open, the imposing iron slabs groaned in protest as she forced them apart. Once open, the other students rushed inside, each moving to a specific waiting person. The hurrying trainees were each presented with a weapon, or in 2’s case weapons, and in the new pairs of instructor and student, began to work through different movements and forms.

Surveying the room, 6 was surprised to find it similar to the Physical Enhancement classroom; a large open circular space with a floor of dirt in the center, surrounded by weapons. Set on racks, displayed on shelves, leaning against walls, or literally plunged into the earthen floor, a ring of weapons encircled the room. Just as 6 realized they had no idea what they were supposed to be doing, Alea swept in and saved them from having to ask.

"Find a weapon that suits you. Go around the room and see if any weapons call out to you."

Alea’s instructions were simple enough, to the left of 6 was a group of small blades and knives. Looking around once more they shrugged, finding that even Alea had moved away, leaving them alone to examine every child's favorite new interest, sharp objects.

Upon coming closer to the practice weapons, 6 could see they were all made of dark oak wood. Their pale eyes passed over pointed daggers, wickedly curved blades, serrated knives, and an assortment of small arms; even a small sickle weapon that reminded 6 of a farmer's scythe.

Near the end of the small blades area sat a large cleaver. 6 recognized this particular tool, they had watched Olena use it to chop the duck into pieces. Reaching out, 6 wrapped their small pale hand around the handle and lifted the cleaver from its shelf. Almost immediately they knew something was wrong. The heavy blade tumbled to the ground, their hand stung, and their foot throbbed; the dull wooden cleaver had ejected itself from their hand, then landed directly onto their foot, before thudding into the dirt floor.

"Trainee 6! Did that weapon call out to you!?"

"N-no?"

The loud shout from Alea combined with her razor-sharp tone caused 6 to stutter, the throbbing in their foot and the sudden attention causing them to squirm under Alea’s scrutiny.

"Only pick up weapons that call. to. you. Understood?"

Around the room, the clatter of wood, the thud of blows pummeling practice bags sounded out, lost amidst the cacophony of noise, a small barely audible gulp came from 6 as they listened to Alea and hobbled slowly back to the shelves.

Focusing on the next section of weapons caused them to miss the playful smile on Alea's lips that contradicted her harsh tone. Soft empty white eyes wandered over the racks, 6 would concentrate on each weapon for a few seconds, then move on to the next, straining to hear something.

After what felt like an endless wooden sea of blunt edges, all of different shapes and fashions, 6 wasn't sure what the call of a weapon was supposed to sound like. How would I know if the weapon called out? Maybe I can't hear weapon calls? What if there is something wrong with me?

It took nearly the full circle of the room before 6 found a weapon that whispered to them. They had been so caught up in their worries, thinking over and over in circles that they disregarded the soft whisper and moved on to a large hooked axe mounted on a pole. When the axe rejected 6 just like all the other weapons before it, 6 stepped away and heard the faintest murmur in the air. Turning slowly, 6 found a plain wooden spear leaning against the rack of weapons; long with the speartip barely wider than the pole it was a simple thing. The whispers were soft and wordless, like a child humming a song on their way to class, becoming more and more distinct as 6 grew closer. 6's worried expression and squinted eyes switched to a full grin and wide eyes when they picked up the spear, and the last dredges of paranoia fled from their mind, banished by their success.

Both hands clung to their newfound weapon, almost hugging it to their body. 6 twirled around to show Alea and the others the weapon that called to them. Dragging the butt of the spear across a shelf as they spun, they sent several weapons clattering to the floor summoning yet another wince. Yet, it could not dampen their enthusiasm as a warm shining smile burst from their overly large head.

"Is that the only weapon that called out to you?"

With wide eyes, 6 replayed Alea's words in their head before answering.

"Uh.. so far? Yes."

The sharp look Alea gave 6 caused them to cringe, their enthusiasm for finding a weapon quickly fading as they struggled to understand what Alea found wrong with their choice.

"Take your spear and run around the yard. Run until the bell."

Alea's tone was one of finality, she turned away immediately after, no longer focusing on 6. Pale determined eyes fell upon the ground, lips curved down, and fingers tightened around the spear.

Holding the spear haft with both hands, 6 began to run, trying to go as fast as they could around the yard while their thoughts spun about what they could have done wrong.

For half a candle 6 ran while considering what was wrong. Beneath her hard emerald eyes, a touch of disappointment had spread across Alea’s face earlier when she looked at 6. It was strange to 6, that they would rather be back in Researcher Moore's office experiencing the taste of blood once again than the pain of not knowing what had upset Alea.

After a time 6’s focus slipped away from Alea, the thwack of wood striking pads, or crack of wood against wood, drew in an eager attentive mind and quickly held 6 captive. Struggling to clutch the spear awkwardly against their chest while avoiding the displays and racks of practice blades, 6 watched their fellow trainees display their prowess.

2 danced forward with a pair of axes, striking from above in quick succession. The blows were deflected by wooden bracers of a man clad in browns and reds, other details becoming lost as the opening salvo from 2 was shrugged off and the man returned with an overhand strike of a double-headed battle axe. She didn’t bother to dive away, cracking one of her axes against the flat of the larger axe head. It was struck away and she sprung forward in that gap, pushing off the axe and swinging in from the right with a chop at the man’s throat. Only to have the butt of the man’s axe driving into her shoulder separating them once again. They stared each other down, each waiting and seeking an opportunity to begin their dance once more.

Across the room from 2, stood 1 with his eyes closed. He held a long thin straight rapier with the point extended into the air before him. Several paces away a turbaned man began to throw small wooden blades directly at 1’s chest. There was a brown blur as the wooden blade struck the missiles, sending them clattering to the ground. With the first deflection, 1 began to step forward, closing the gap. Faster and faster the man threw as 1 advanced, the blades flew at 1’s feet and then his head.

The outcome of 1’s peculiar training went unseen to 6 however, as they had been so engrossed in the display that their already aching foot collided with a large display of weapons. Sending all of the polearms tumbling to the ground and causing 6 to jump up and down while clutching a wounded foot.

The commotion drew the eyes of every combatant whether they be Trainee or Instructor, redness began to spread across 6’s face as they stopped hopping up and down and knelt to fix the fallen poles and halberds.

Once everything had been sorted and the display rearranged, 6 found their audience had returned to training. With a resigned sigh, 6 began to move once again. It quickly became a game to them. Run as hard and as fast as you can, all while desperately clutching the spear to your chest. Dodging and jumping over all sorts of obstacles, be they a rack of axes, or a tumbling 2.

The short enjoyment of the game ended as 6’s muscles began to ache and they began to slow, but having not received any instructions besides “run”, they continued.

Their energetic sprinting turned to a fast run, then a quick jog, before descending into mediocre trudging. Fingers stung and palms ached as each step brought a new jolt of pain up through 6’s right foot and their insides began to roil, nausea building within them.

After a full lap of slowly trudging around the Training Yard, 6 tried to pull their fingers away from the spear only to find them red; the pale skin of their palm a shredded mess and splinters dug into their hands. Grimacing, 6 felt the pain as soon as they saw the marks Leaning the spear against their shoulder, they tenderly brought their hands up to their face and used their teeth to tug out splinter after splinter.

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As she walked away from 6, Alea began to consider the new dilemma her new problem-child had presented. Out of the hundreds of choices and possibilities, the militia spear. It had to have been that specific spear. Her troublesome trainee had selected one of the only weapons for which the Princess had not acquired a suitable instructor. Whips, halberds, staves, glaives. . . the Princess had made sure to have someone knowledgeable in almost every topic to teach her little pets. Who would have thought to find a member of the militia to instruct on how to use a farmer’s spear?

Alea paced before the entrance, her hands smoothing her faculty coat, and straightening out her appearance. When the child’s bouncing, full-out sprint carried them past her, she began to massage her temples, fingers tracing the lines on her face that she did not remember having just a few days ago. With a groan, Alea realized what she needed to do. She opened the Training Yard’s door and popped her head out to eye the only candidate left.

“When was the last time you used a spear?”

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When Alea finally signaled for 6 to stop, all control of their limbs failed in that happy moment, and they collapsed on the ground in front of Alea. Limbs splayed out at awkward angles while their spear rolled away across the ground. 6 lay there desperately trying to draw air into burning, tight lungs. Aches built in 6's chest as they lay there, each deep ragged breath was a struggle through their strained muscles. 6's legs had now gone from overworked to protesting, unwilling to move.

“Good. You made it through the easy part. Took you long enough. Stand up and present yourself. Look at yourself, Trainee! Lying in the dirt with those limp pathetic legs. Are you a warrior or a noodle? Noodles keep lying there, Warriors get up and go!”

“noodle.”

A complete lack of energy, made it so 6 didn’t bother looking up from their place on the ground as someone moved around them. A pair of heavy burgundy boots stomp closer and slammed down next to their head. The voice that had called them a noodle had been different from Alea’s, probably, but 6’s tired mind drifted towards thoughts of cold clear noodles with a citrus zing to them, rather than consider the mysterious voice.

“You’re a what!? Get up warrior! Is this how you are going to earn dinner?”

“Mmm cold noodles.”

Noodles did sound great to the tired, aching, sore 6. What was this about dinner?

In a daze, 6 looked up to see the previously quiet and curious guard who had walked with them to dungeoneering class. She was glaring down at them, gray eyes squinting, jaw clenching and unclenching, and her handsome face was framed by short dark hair. As 6 tracked the guard’s facial expression they began to panic, having realized it looked exactly like 2 after Magic Theory. Flinching back, 6 tensed for a possible blow while looking around frantically. It was an awkward thing. In 6’s head they would flip back to shelter behind a weapon rack. Instead, a suddenly mobile 6 shoved their shoulders into the dirt and pushed off the ground with their feet in order to flip away. Only for 6’s tired muscles to give in halfway through and their sore body to flop a few inches away from the scary guard.

"Is that it, noodle? Stand up, or half your dinner is going on MY plate!"

Surprise washed over 6’s face, quickly followed by their mouth falling agape, wide eyes full of abject horror, and the blood draining from their cheeks. She thought they had been trying to stand, and worse, she was going to take away dinner? Could she even do that?

It was too dangerous to risk! Springing up to their feet, 6 managed to stand by leaning their body against the reclaimed spear. Arms wrapped around the spear’s length, embracing it. They struggled to maintain their balance, but keep their tender and red hands away from the rough wood.

The tyrant of a guard slowly marched around 6, her piercing grey eyes displaying disdain as she examined 6, causing them to shrink back, scraping the spear in the dirt to hobble away.

"Since you chose that particular weapon I will be your Instructor during this class until a more… suitable person can be found. My name is Rachel Olhyde. You will refer to me as Instructor Rachel or Ma'am Rachel. Do. You. Understand. Trainee?"

Despite her close proximity, she chose to shout each word, causing 6's ears to ring as she introduced herself. Upon 6's nod of acknowledgement Rachel's volume increased once again.

"ANSWER ME PROPERLY! DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND. TRAINEE!?"

The wide eyes of 6 that could not possibly grow any wider, shook at her bellowing response. Understanding was slow to come, but when it did 6 quickly mumbled the best response they could think of.

"Yes, Ma'am Rachel."

"Good. Now stop cradling your spear like it's a baby. Hold it like a warrior!"

Thankfully before 6 could ask how someone held a spear like a warrior, Instructor Rachel demonstrated.

"Dominant hand here, in the middle where the wrapping or grip will be on a proper spear."

Rachel pulled a large staff from one of the weapon racks, holding it out in front of her the dull end leveled at an invisible enemy.

“Watch closely Trainee.”

For the first time, her instructions weren’t shouted or loud, but her stern serious tone made 6 focus on her movements.

First, Rachel’s right hand fell to the middle of the pole. Next, she hoisted the weapon forward by sliding her right hand down and leaving her left hand steady on the center of the staff. Bringing the pole up from a resting position, she swept the blunt tip out at chest height, before fluidly circling back into a standing position with one swing. The movements at the tip of the pretend spear were large and wide, but the motions at the end where her right hand took control were small, smooth, and precise.

"Follow my movements! Don't just stand there gawking! If you want to stand around and gawk, go listen to some bard run his mouth!"

Attempting to mirror Rachel’s fluid movements, 6 set their left hand on their spear and began to swing. Their right hand slipped down too far, falling off of the end of the spear, and it went sliding out of their grip at the end of the sweep.

The clatter of a rack being knocked over and wooden weapons being tossed to the ground felt familiar to 6 at this point. But they still cringed and shrank inwards at the loud noise as all of the other Trainees turned to see what 6 had done this time.

"Pick it up! A warrior should never lose their weapon. Pick up your spear, noodle!"

Rushing over to the thrown weapon, 6 gave a quick nod in response to her command. The suddenly twitching jaw muscles and narrowed eyes of a furious Instructor getting ready to berate her incompetent Trainee enlightened 6. Quickly, they blurted out the expected response before they could be reprimanded while the other Trainee’s looked on.

"YeshMa'amRachel."

Crouching down, 6 pushed the rack upright and against the wall. They tried to pick up a fallen double-headed axe, intending to set it back on the rack, only to be shocked when the weapon ejected itself from their hand. Sighing heavily, 6 looked at the mess of axes strewn across the floor and began to slowly push them towards the rack, not trying to pick them up again.

Once satisfied that the axe pile was out of the way, 6 picked up their spear and brushed their hands over the blunted tip and along the spear’s shaft, wiping away the clods of dirt coating it.

Cradling the newly cleaned spear between their arms, 6 trudged back into place before Instructor Rachel. Slowly they brought their spear back to the same resting position she had first displayed, wincing as their hands touched the rough wood. The harsh unforgiving wood had previously bitten into their tender skin, which in turn caused their grip to loosen as they tried to keep the contact and pain to a minimum. 6’s eyes turned back to the pile of axes, their gaze lingering as they wondered if they would have the same issues if a different weapon had called out to them.

“Child, there are other people to clean up the weapons. Focus up. Move with me.”

Rachel spoke while moving slowly, filling the gaps of time it took for 6’s actions to catch up with instruction.

“Left hand just above the right” Her body flowed forward in one motion, and as her left hand settled onto the spear her fingers coiled around it, taking a loose grip. While her right hand slid down toward the end of the spear, taking a tight firm precise grip.

“Pull up with your right hand and down with your left. Now sweep left with the tip of the spear.”

6 followed Rachel's instructions and swept the spear out. Both hands protested as they clenched the rough oak of the weapon. It was a struggle to keep it from flying out of their hands once more. The spear raked the air in front of 6, and a small feeling of accomplishment, along with a smile, settled onto 6 as the spear remained in their hands.

When Rachel started the upwards loop to return her spear to position, 6 mirrored her motions. But as their right hand, now raw and bloody slid up the spear, a splinter embedded itself into 6’s palm, a single wince, and 6 had let go of the spear.

So instead of a perfect downward motion into the dirt, the spear hit at an angle and bounced off the ground. The impact wrenching the spear from 6's equally torn left hand and once again the weapon fell to the floor.

Closing their eyes, 6 struggled to hold back the waterfall of tears that built up. Their fingers stung, their legs cramped, and their entire body ached. Their head bowed as their face scrunched up, not wanting anyone to see their moment of distress. When cool calloused fingers gripped 6’s hands and a warm cloth was gently dabbed against their palm, 6 opened their eyes and looked down to see Rachel’s hands wrapped around their own. She tugged gently on 6’s wrist, sitting down beside a bucket of water that must have been brought over while they were crying.

6’s body followed her motion automatically, their legs thankful for the rest. Rachel’s touch was gentle now, the stern taskmaster and serious instructor replaced by a gentle touch and a kind smile.

“I’m sorry.” She spoke as she continued to work on 6. She rinsed away the blood and dirt, then used a cloth to tightly wrap each of 6’s palms.

“This happened because you aren’t attuned. Once you are awakened you’ll be stronger, able to do more, and train harder. I thought perhaps, additional training now, would help when you attune, or awaken an additional skill. I didn’t realize it would be so hard on this base form… I’m sorry.”

Around them in the large Training Yard, shouts of exertion and the clash of weapons rang out. Yet Rachel’s soft gentle voice brought 6 to an island of calm. Together they shifted back, moving out of the way as the others trained with a frenzied vigor. Beneath a shelf displaying thin batons, 6 found a place to rest their head as Rachel continued to tend to their hands.

“When you attune, We can do more. Until then let’s familiarize you with the militia spear. That way you’ll be able to use it perfectly from the first day you attune.”

6 examined their hands as they listened to Rachel’s words, the mention of attuning causing 6 to feel excited. Their fingertips reached down to brush across the rough wooden spear as it lay before them, its wood covered in deep crimson stains.

“What will attuning make me?”

“Make you?” With lifted eyebrows and curious eyes, Rachel considered 6 and their question, before she answered.

“Attuning isn’t going to make you into anything. It’s just communing with the World’s record of you. It doesn’t change you, it just.. brings your traits to the front.”

“The World’s record of me?”

“When someone’s born into this World, it’s said who they are and who they will be is recorded by the World. I’m not one for long boring sermons, so let’s just say, The Karma Node will help you be a better version of yourself. That’s what it will make you. Give it time and it can make you the best version of yourself.”

Turning to face 6 as she spoke, Rachel gave them another warm smile. 6 felt better after hearing her explanation; it was different from Dreech’s long speech on their first day about Karma and Endless Limits. It made sense this way, rather than becoming some scary thing or changing, the giant floating crystal will help show how awesome they could be! Those happy thoughts caused 6 to return Rachel’s warm gentle smile, with a large goofy grin, their large oversized head wobbling slightly as their body drooped from fatigue.

Slumping forward, 6 stared out at the indoor yard watching the others train in the distance, 6’s eyes inevitably settling onto the shiny bald head of 5 who seemed to be twirling a staff with a circle on one end.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Of course. I’m familiar with most weapons here and I know all about skills.” Rachel tracked 6’s gaze as she spoke, watching as their eyes never left 5, who leaped into the air and gave a thundering shout while executing a heavy downward bow with his staff.

“How do you cheer up a friend?”