Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (109/?)

Author’s Note: I’d recommend everyone read the revised version of Chapter 108 before reading Chapter 109, as I moved the ‘intro’ sequence for 109 to the outro sequence of 108! :D I felt it made sense with the overall vibes of both chapters and how it flowed, so I hope everyone will be alright with that! :D Also… don’t mind the singing haha, you’ll know it when you reach it in this chapter XD 

Time felt like it’d come to a complete standstill, as conflicted emotions started clashing at the foot of this anticlimactic hill. 

My expectations had been set at an all-time low following my search into town. 

My overactive imagination had assumed the worst, and was now being treated to a scenario it’d considered unrealistic by default.

Yet it was relief that managed to triumph above all other emotions, as confusion and disbelief, leading into a momentary state of surreality, all crumbled to the wayside.

I felt my racing heart finally pacing down.

But most of all, I felt that overwhelming mix of guilt and grief, that constant weight on my shoulders… finally lifting. 

You will lose people in a fight. Whether it’s people you’ve trained with all your career, the battle buddies you swore to protect, hostiles who’ll be dying by your hands, or even the unfortunate souls caught in the crossfire. It’s one thing to lose a battle buddy. It’s another to see the light from an enemy’s eyes leave their body after a trigger pull. But it’s an entirely different feeling to see someone completely unrelated to the fight die in the ensuing chaos. You tell yourself it’s not your fault, and a lot of times it isn’t. But when it comes down to it, the greatest tragedy of all, is the loss of those who didn’t sign up to be caught in a battlefield not of their own choosing. You carry the memory of their faces, like a rucksack you can’t ever take off. So whatever you do, assess liabilities, mitigate the risk, avoid uncertainty if you can, and should push come to shove — protect the civvies. Because that extra bit of effort can make all the difference.

Aunty Ran’s words rang even truer in my head now. 

However, unlike the time between Rila’s disappearance to the moment I opened that door, it no longer haunted me with a sense of guilt.

Instead, it reaffirmed a lesson I needed to learn — responsibility for lives outside of the mission profile.

The silent reunion was suddenly interrupted by Chiska with a clearing of her throat, pulling me out of my reverie. “I’m afraid I have Academy matters to tend to. However, feel free to take all the time you need, Cadet Emma Booker. Whilst encouraged, watching the House Choosing Ceremony as an audience member is not compulsory for first-years, as we understand well the need to catch up on last minute practice.” She proclaimed warmly. “Until this evening!” 

With a door slam and a few words exchanged immediately outside of it, Rila and I were left alone, as we both stared at each other in differing levels of disbelief.

However, it was clear that the circumstances behind those looks… were very much different.

With Rila’s expressions discolored by some anxiety welling beneath the surface. 

“I would ask ‘how are you’, but I guess that’s kinda a redundant question, huh?” I attempted to break the silence with some humor

Which sort of worked, if the chuckle followed by a long sigh was any indication. “I must thank fate that your sense of humor is not representative of your intuition and adventuring prowess.” 

“Well, I aim to please.” I offered with a shrug. “But seriously, are you doing alright? Have they been treating you okay?”

“Yes.” The elf nodded. “In fact, even in spite of the obvious and expected social derision, I can most certainly say that this is the greatest level of care I have ever experienced.” 

That latter comment forced both my eyes to twitch and my fists to curl up, something that Rila clearly noticed.

“Your concern is appreciated, Emma Booker.” Rila urged, attempting to defuse the situation. “But considering the degree of care being provided, I can tolerate such… unpleasantries. Life within the Crownland’s commonaries has prepared me for much worse, after all.” 

“That doesn’t really excuse that behavior, y’know?” I managed out with a sigh. “But that’s a bone I’ll have to pick with the healing staff later. I’m just glad you’re okay, Rila.” I offered with a smile.

“As am I, Emma Booker.” She responded earnestly. 

“Physical injuries aside, how are… things in general?” I attempted to slickly transition off into the topic of the elf’s name. 

Though it was clear my approach left things a bit too much to interpretation. 

“They say that idle hands are an insult to the gift of sapiency.” Rila began cryptically. “I’ve never truly understood what my parents and seniors meant by this until these recent days.” She clarified, her eyes gently sliding towards the blank ceiling. “Never in my life have I been expected to do nothing. At first a reprieve for the mind and body, yet I feel myself now chastised for it.”

I blinked rapidly at that response, the formality throwing me off. 

“IIII… think you’re just describing boredom, Rila.” I attempted to clarify.

The trade apprentice tensed at this, a shy and flustered look coming across her visage, right before she let out a despondent sigh. “That… I…” She paused, placing a hand atop of her head, with a small smile soon forming followed closely in tow by a chuckle. “You really are a fellow commoner.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It feels like it’s been so long since our encounter, Emma Booker. I almost thought it to be some form of self-delusion. You must forgive me, for I was just…” Rila took another breath to steady herself. 

“Being a bit more formal and playing into your ‘role’, just to be safe?” I interjected with a breath of relief.

“Yes.” She nodded, her busy eyes hinting at so much more welling beneath the surface. “It… is difficult to really wrap one’s head around. Especially considering your impeccable command of High Nexian. Yet it is in these particular moments, where commoner diction supersedes the High Nexian lexicon, where I am able to discern the fellow commoner beneath the layer of lexical decorum.” Her features shifted once more, as if worrying if she’d finally strayed past a certain line. “I mean no offense by that of course.”

“Should I be offended by that?” I shot back half teasingly, half testing the elf’s self worth.

A brief twinkling in her eyes indicated that something clicked, perhaps a memory of our conversation on that fateful night.

It was following that, that the elf shook her head, offering up a smile in the process. “Not if your stories and your own noble actions are anything to go by, Emma Booker.” 

“Aaand just to be sure…” I paused, unlatching my pouch and pulling out the bracelet. “Let’s see if—” I stopped in my tracks as the object of interest did begin glowing, matching the brilliant display of light from the bracelet atop one of the bedside tables. “Yup, there we go.” 

Rila’s expressions spoke for leagues despite her silence, though despite said excitement, it was clear she was probably still exhausted from having to effectively heal from an explosion. 

This prompted me to address the elephant in the room sooner rather than later.

“So… I hope you don’t mind me asking, but there was another, perhaps more sensitive topic that I wanted to touch on.” 

“Go ahead?”

“It’s about your name, Rila. Or rather, your trade-apprentice title.” I broached the subject slowly, gauging the elf’s responses which expectedly darkened. “We don’t have to touch the matter if you don’t feel comfortable—”

“It’s a matter I’ll have to face one way or another. It’s better to do it amongst tentative fellows, no?” She interjected with an uncertain smile, one that belied a growing unease. 

“And you’re sure—”

“Yes.” She uttered sternly.

“Alright. I’d like to ask you about the suffix Rel.” 

… 

1 Hour Later

…  

It was about as bad as I’d expected.

The suffix Rel, more or less boiled down to: under legal review, or pending legal inquiry.

And I was partially to blame.

Lord Lartia’s death basically put his entire estate into legal limbo, as without a definitive heir, and with a Crownlands-led investigation being thrown into the mix… Rila’s apprenticeship was now subject to the whims of… well… almost everything outside of her control.

“I’m so sorry Rila—”

“Your actions negate the need to self-assign blame, Emma Booker.” She reiterated, doubling down on her refutation of my apologetics. “This was, as we Nexian commoners say [Tarsink-torlin] — the fallout of petty noble politics on the livelihoods of those below.”

New esoteric colloquialism added to the [Working Language Database]

The ensuing silence was deafening, at least to me. 

But I had to ask the next question. 

“So what outcomes are we looking at here?” 

“If His Eternal Majesty’s light shines upon me, then I may return to my position under the new lord or lady. However, should foul fortunes befall me, then I must return home to start anew.” The elf’s tone indicated that she was anything but optimistic about the turnout, which prompted me to instinctively chime in.

“No matter the outcome, just know that I’ll have your back, alright?” I offered immediately. “And this isn’t just some empty promise either, I’ll make sure you’ll have whatever you need to get a fresh start.” I spoke with a smile, brimming with optimism that seemed to come naturally following the recent turn of events. 

Nexian bureaucracy be damned, I’d at least make sure to make a difference with this one life.

“Emma Booker—”

“Just Emma is fine.” I urged politely. 

“I must insist that—”

Tooo-Toooo-TOOOOOOOOT!

The blaring of trumpets pulled the both of us out of our back and forths, as we both craned our heads towards the source of the commotion — the balcony.

It was at that moment that a Bim Bim-grade idea dawned on me, as I turned to Rila with an expectant smile. “I think I’ve bogged you down enough with these what-if’s and could-be’s. For now, how about we cure your boredom, eh?” 

With a tug and a pull of Rila’s surprisingly mobile bed, I positioned the elf just short of the balcony, before drawing the translucent curtains wide open. 

“Front row seats to the magical games!” I grinned. 

I expected one of those sports-commentator views of the gymnasium below, with at least a decent vantage point of the open-air track nestled within. 

However, those hopes were frustratingly dashed, as the only thing we could make out from this level was a small corner of the gymnasium’s field, the rest being obscured by the rest of its bulky Victorian-esque structure.

“Welp…” I sighed, turning back towards the bed-bound Rila with a sullen shrug. “Maybe we could read a book or somethi—”

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 750% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

CRRKKK!

SHRRKKKKK!

CHRKK-CHRRRK-CHRRRKKKKK!

The ground beneath us rumbled up something fierce, prompting my eyes to dart around for any cracks, splinters, or dust forming in the wake of those seismically-concerning noises.

Rila’s eyes hinted at the same concern forming deep within my gut.

However, what happened next would be something that prompted my whole body to seize up.

The stadium in front of me… rapidly expanded.

The wrought-iron victorian metalwork expanded outwards in every direction, raking across the earth like a farmer tilling their fields.

Or more accurately, like a god-sim gamer deciding to tear their overworld up a new one.

The roundish oval stadium’s walls followed suit, quickly sliding outwards to meet its metal frame, dragging grass, topsoil, and dirt in the process… leaving not a single tree, hedge, or piece of shrubbery for the poor gardener to save.

Though that clearly wouldn’t be an issue.

Because the freshly-upturned soil was quick to heal. The piles of exposed dirt were quickly stomped into patches of neat mounds by some invisible force — causing the earth and everything atop of it to violently shake with each and every stomp — making the way for the growth of grass, flowers, and even whole trees. All of which, ended up mimicking the well-kept greenery of a noble’s gardens. 

Indeed, what amounted to a space more than several football fields in size had suddenly been tiled, paved over, and dressed up for the event in a matter of just minutes. 

The whole space now much more resembled what I’d expected from a grand magic tournament, rather than some simple magic shows which would’ve been impressive, but far from grandiose.

A part of me felt genuinely blown away from everything I just witnessed. 

And despite me seeing fast-terraforming on a similar if not grander scale before — namely in those field trips to the O’Neill cylinder mega-fabs — the scene I’d just witnessed was just… fundamentally different.

With the O’Neill cylinders, it was clear the scale was there, and the sheer detail that went into every pre-fab ‘sector’ was just as, if not more intricate than what I’d just witnessed here. 

I’d seen entire mid-density residential districts, complete with ready-to-install parks and ‘green sectors’ plonked and finished in front of me.

However, the process was tedious, involved, and immensely resource intensive.

This… just felt so effortless. 

With an entire space molded and shaped using what was probably just the power of a few top-tier mages’ spells, and crafted into reality feeling more like a VR session than it did real life.

I could clearly see a station, or perhaps even a city, committing to such a project and seeing the end result in a few days’ fab time.

However, that process required the move from VR sketchpad to reality. 

The scene in front of me… was quite literally taking the middle processes out, skipping on production, and moving straight from sketchpad to the physical world. 

I was left in mild awe.

Though it was clear Rila was utterly taken aback, the elf left too stunned to speak.

But before either of us could really address… everything that just happened, a booming voice echoed from the newly constructed stands, now towering in the middle of the field like some air traffic control tower. 

TO ALL WITHIN THE ACADEMY

HEED THE CALL OF THE HOUSE CHOOSING CEREMONY

TO THE STUDENTS, THE STANDS

TO THE FACULTY, THE CHOOSING TOWER

What was unmistakably Chiska’s excitable voice boomed throughout the Academy.

“May the first peer group enter!” 

My eyes were peeled in anticipation, a giddiness inside me fuelled just by how the stage itself had been set. After all the stress this past week, I was more than happy to simply sit back and watch. With eager eyes and a quick zoom-in via optics, the first of several figures that made their way to the stage turned out to be none other than…

=====

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The New Gymnasium. Local Time: 1010 Hours.

Qiv

“Let it be known that my gratitude knows no bounds for the honor you’ve bestowed upon us, Headmaster.” With earnest respect, I gave a bow to the honorable Dean. As did my fellow peers; the rustling sound of movement behind me confirmed such. I did not dare to raise myself just yet, not until I heard it.

“Please, you may rise, Lord Ratom. You may rise.” So came my better’s command and indeed — to frame it as little else was foolish — I did as he bidded, steeled in my resolve. “The task ahead deserves your effort, reserve your resolve for what is to come.” I took that paternal smile and returned my own, reserved yet ardent.

The headmaster retreated out to join his articled faculty, and I focused my attention on the growing chatter amongst the audience.

“Lord Ratom?” The drawling voice of the slow-witted bear irked.

“Hold it in, Lord Kroven. We’re about to begin.” I held back a hiss, just as the chatter of the crowd rose from impatience and impudence. It was like the scraping of claws against pig iron. For a presentation such as what we had planned, this demanded utter silence.

We made our way, basking in the light of the stage and seen by all, stopping just at the epicenter of a glorious plane of theatre. All the more, the incessant noise of fellow students engulfed us as much as the light had.

I raised a finger up to my lips, my eyes scanning once more to the crowd that deservedly had this coming to them.

SSSSHHHHHH

My call for silence was accompanied by the sudden conjuration of cloudy wind — continuous streams of puffy white clouds that erupted from my maw.

The whole central field was promptly covered in a layer of clouds, basking it in a simulacrum of heavenly fields, with I standing in the midst of the only clearing — the rest of my peers quickly hidden amidst the sea of fluffy pink-hued clouds.

Pleasant silence soon fell upon the stadium, as the clouds began to move, one by one, revealing the rotund Rostario to rest atop of one of them. 

However as quickly as the serene scene was established, so too was it almost immediately subverted, as the clouds started to darken and twist, picking up speed as it did darker and darker hues, until finally it began swirling up a storm.

Only a few short seconds was needed for the heavenly scene to turn hellish, as lightning and howling winds embattled the greenery and landscaping of the central fields.

A tempestuous storm had formed, with its borders clearly demarcated by the staves and fences the professors had situated in the stadium.

The storm continued to intensify, and by Rostarion’s command, the last of the cottony clouds turned dark. So too did they start shaping, contorting, transforming into wraiths, armed and armored.

Like solid hail, they fell onto the stage, with Kroven, Airus, and myself surrounded.

Such was the bat’s cue.

With an unfurling of her wings, and a mighty leap into the air, she ascended several stories, staying aloft above the chaos.

She looked at her conjured foes with eyes that could smite — diving down into the crowds of these shambling monsters. 

The leading edge of her wing suddenly glistened with a metallic gleam, matching the cocksure grin that I could’ve sworn gleamed just as brightly.

It was then that she leveled out, wings poised forward, as she began slicing through the gaggle of nimbic wraiths.

And then she had to show off.

She afforded no mercy to her vapid combatants, performing barrel-rolls and aileron rolls alike, her wings glistening brighter and brighter with each ‘kill’ to the point where they began crackling with light.

Finally, she sharply began to ascend, banking left and right through the remaining clouds, until she regained enough altitude for the final act of the show.

Her glistening wings discharged, erupting with electrical light and a series of brilliant lightning bolts, eviscerating any remaining undead, and vaporizing what clouds remained.

Throughout it all, the bear-like Uven remained planted firmly to the ground. With a cock of my head, he took in a nervous breath and began as planned. With arms raised, he focused much of Airit’s seemingly endless lightning into a solid ball of light, the spherical shape contorting and twisting, hinting at just how the man was struggling to keep it all in one cohesive shape. 

His features stiffened as he held the ball aloft with strain and tumult, until finally, he tossed it upwards. 

It went far higher than it should have, flying past Airit, past even the cloud-surfing Rostario, and farther than the highest peak on the academy, until finally…

thhhhhhROOOM

The overcast skies above the stadium was lit anew in a brilliant display of streaking lights and fanciful fizzles, though it honestly was more tacky than I would’ve preferred. Save for the pride-instilling displays that regarded our very being — blindling and brilliant images of each of our family crests.

As expected, the culmination of our efforts was rewarded with a much more pleasing sound of resplendent cheers and deserved acclaim.

=====

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Healing Wing. Rila's Room. Local Time: 0910 Hours.

Emma

Hoots and hollers were carried aloft all the way up to the medical tower without the aid of magic. 

The whole scene genuinely reminded me of one of those Cloud Nine shows on Venus, especially with the use of clouds as a medium of artistic expression. 

The Venutians were, understandably, fond of using the clouds between their cities whenever they could.

Which invariably, meant similarly brilliant displays of aerial acrobatics… though perhaps with less in the way of mutant ninjas.

“Marvelous, Lord Qiv! Incredible work Lady Airit! Spectacular display Lord Rostarion! And what an amazing final piece of showmanship Lord Kroven!” Chiska announced through the PA system, her voice held on the edge of excitement all throughout. “Your scores will be tabulated and given to you following the conclusion of the day’s ceremony. For now, feel free to enter the Banquet Hall, where you may bask in the glory of your showmanship!” 

The cheers continued even as the group were ushered off the field and into the stadium. 

The center of the field, which looked as if a tornado just went through it, was promptly repaired in the span of a few minutes.

Rila’s mouth remained open all throughout that show. 

Her features were somehow locked in that perpetual display of awe, which I could only appeal to by shrugging. “T’was fun, no?” 

“I…” 

“I’m sure today’s entertainment is going to make up for the boring week of nothing you were subject to.” I grinned cheesily, watching on as the next group quickly arrived on scene.

My features shifted drastically as I saw who it was though.

“Lord Auris Ping and fellows, are you ready to begin?”

“On His Eternal Majesty’s name, I was born ready to serve his light.” He spoke uproariously, garnering the cheers of more than a dozen students. To his right was Lady Ladona, and to his left were the two other members of his troupe which always seemed to be sidelined next to the giant personalities of the former two. 

The first, being Ciata Barr, an ‘Ophidiarealmer’, what I could only describe as a humanoid being with opalescent stone-like skin, loosely resembling a snake being forced into a humanoid body plan. 

The second being Vicini Lorsi, a ‘Cervinrealmer’, who looked eerily humanoid despite the obvious deer-like elements of his body plan.

The two remained quiet, but ready for action. Whilst Ping and Ladona continually shot knowing glances, as if getting ready for a signal.

This soon came in the form of a wink from Ladona as the pair suddenly pushed back… the ground beneath their feet rising upwards and backwards, until they were each standing atop of stone pillars at the very edges of the demarcated field.

Following this, Ciata and Vicini soon got to work, raising up dirt and water alike, forging pillars upon pillars of rock, stone, and whatever else was beneath their feat — creating a sort of shape out of hundreds of these individual pillars.

It was clear that their power was far more limited compared to the professors.

Unlike the wholesale terraformation of the stadium, these two were relegated to small patches of dirt at a time. 

Yet despite those limitations, they still managed to pull off an incredible display of what looked to be a cross between precast construction and vertical stacking, as they kept adding and adding layers onto what was quickly becoming a statue. 

Auris and Ladona however weren’t just sitting at the wayside whilst this happened, as they both began forging statues and structures of their own. Though they seemed to mostly be preoccupied with forging individual soldiers, siege vehicles, and what looked to be larger than life statues of an elf, a giant, and a dwarf.

After a solid ten minutes of nonstop construction, the center of the stadium had been transformed into a scene that resembled some sort of historical reenactment. 

With scaled-down armies surrounding a massive castle, and a floating head looming ominously over the would-be siegers.

“THE SIEGE OF THE LAST HERETIC!” Auris proclaimed loudly, his finger angrily pointed at the floating head in question. “THE LAST OF THE FIRST ‘GODS’, THE DEFILER OF FREE FATES!” He continued, garnering several loud cheers and claps. “HERE I STAND, WITH HIS MAJESTY’S DIVINE GIFT OF FREE WILL FLOWING THROUGH ME, TO REENACT THE DEATH OF THIS DECREPIT THING!”

A pause followed, as Auris and Ladona’s individual pillars suddenly merged, and they both aimed their hands towards the vaguely draconic-looking face. 

“BEGONE FOUL BEAST!” They screamed simultaneously, blasting the rock with a series of blasts that ranged from lightning bolts to boulders to what looked to be some weird magical acid — the latter of which managed to melt what was left of the floating head, causing it to sink into the castle beneath it in a pile of green sludge.

The various ‘armies’ soon marched forwards, as all four now began a collaborative group effort in reforging everything into a new castle. One which looked to be a cross between Manis Tarath and a starscraper, rising so high that it even reached the height of the faculty’s observation tower.

Soon enough, the group was done, as they turned towards an uproarious series of cheers, with Ping taking in the attention. 

“A truly remarkable and passionate demonstration of various forms of magic, with a clear dedication to historical accuracy, down to the participants of the Siege of Utarina.” Another voice came over the PA system… this one belonging to none other than Articord, Ping’s favorite professor. 

However, whatever ‘microphone’ they were using in the booth was quickly taken, as Chiska once more took over. “Seconded! Now, feel free to enter the banquet hall! And may the next group please approach the field!” 

I turned to Rila with a cock of my head. “Historically accurate?” 

To which the elf could only shrug in response. “That’s what’s taught. I was fortunate enough to be schooled, and this aspect of history was indeed regarded as factual, Emma.”

It was following that final exchange, and a few more casual conversations over a few more modest displays of magic did I finally decide to leave.

It was close to noon after all. 

Which meant it was time to fulfil my obligations.

=====

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. ‘Practice Hill’ Overlooking the New Gymnasium. Local Time: 1420 Hours.

Emma

The practice was… as expected, consisted of me watching the stadium from far away, whilst the group busied themselves with the actual magic of the performance.

Over the course of the next few hours, I noticed how Qiv and Ping’s performances basically overshadowed much of what came next. 

Though the faculty seemed to be just as enthusiastic about the specifics of some of the less than flashy performances.

It was two particular groups however that stuck out to me.

The first being a group who seemed confident to start out, forging what looked to be an almost stereotypical looking gateway, which two members calmly walked through.

Though following this, nothing really happened.

Moreover, they began panicking as a whole twenty minutes of absolutely nothing happened, save for the frantic searching through loose parchments and binders.

They were almost ushered off before suddenly the portal reopened, and the two students returned with triumphant smiles.

Their smiles didn’t last for long however, though they were offered the same banquet as the rest of the students.

I feared for their points, as everyone could relate to doing poorly on an assignment, and the painful wait for the results. 

The second, however, was a bit more intense, as they went so far as to push a commoner they hired to the brink of death, all in an attempt to demonstrate Belnor’s first-death principles. 

The faculty was divided on this one.

With Belnor herself condemning the ‘rash’ acts, but Articord arguing that it was disqualifiable on grounds of the participant being unrelated to the group, and thus against the letter of the rules.

The group was sent to the banquet hall, though with much in the way of drama.

Following all of this, I was finally allowed to participate in the rehearsals, as after nearly a whole day, my role was finally up.

It was only after I reviewed the script however, was I given the rundown on the last-minute revisions the gang made prior to lunch.

“Ilunor… are we going to be doing a musical?”

… 

Three Hours Later

…

We took center stage with a cocksure Ilunor, an equally confident Thalmin, and a poker-faced Thacea.

All eyes were on us, as the day’s light gave way into the strangely cloudy evenings of the Nexus.

I wasn’t typically one to feel stage fright.

But given the unique circumstances here, I definitely felt something close to it here.

Ilunor stepped forward first, followed by Thalmin, as they each bowed to one another before pacing ten steps from one another.

In something taken right out of the pages of a western, they promptly spun around and fired. 

Though it wasn’t bullets this time around, but fire and ice.

The pair held their arms outstretched, their hands aimed towards one another, as the continuous streams of fire and ice generated a plume of steam that obscured the whole field.

The two streams of magic ended abruptly.

Though the battle was just beginning.

As lightning pierced through the clouds, Ilunor performed what I could only describe as an ‘anime’ pose in the process.

Thalmin, however, pulling from light magic classes, managed to not only dissipate it, but also redirected it, forming his hands into a ‘gun’ shape, before shooting it up and out of the stadium, bathing it in an iridescent blue light. 

A pause followed after that redirection, then… all hell broke loose.

Rapid-fire fireballs were flung towards Thalmin.

The prince responded rapidly by evading all of them with a series of flips and kicks.

This back and forth continued, as the pair’s moves became less martial and increasingly more artsy, with each surge of magic and each extension of their bodies becoming less like a fight and more like a dance off. 

This all culminated in Thacea’s disruption of the playing field, the avinor flying up high and blasting the entire field with a powerful freezing beam — freezing the whole surface over in a neat sheet of fresh ice; complete with an ice mountain forming to mark my arrival.

It was at this point that all eyes were on me, as the group, hands raised high, took aim and fired.

ALERT: MULTIPLE LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED

Nothing happened.

Though judging from the ogling eyes of the audience, most notably the upper years who had dropped everything they were doing to observe this last stunt — it was definitely a show stopper. 

But the show wasn’t quite over yet. 

“Meeemmoriiies~” The Vunerian began, his singing voice surprising not just me, but seemingly the rest of the crowd. “We long to be remembered in meeeemooorriiiies~” He continued, gliding across the icy stage on ice skates forged from magic. 

“In this world of great challenges—” Came another, more baritone voice, as Thalmin arrived with a pair of skates of his own. “We yearn to be remembered… by both loved ones and histoooryyyyy…” 

“But in the face of unique challenges…” Came a higher voice, a refined voice, one that seemed almost born to sing. “We can only hope to meet them with pride and dignity~” 

I felt something welling up within me following those simple lines, as I couldn’t help but to stare on, watching as the princess flew up gently with slow, practiced, flaps of her wings.

“Because to be remeeembeered~” All three continued, bridging into a chorus. “Is the highest yearning, of any sapient mind~” Ilunor and Thalmin slowly but surely raised themselves up, as the ice rink began rising layer by layer like a cross between a slip and slide and a wedding cake. 

“In the pages of history, we all one day hope to reside~” The chorus continued, Ilunor’s pop-singer voice, Thalmin’s baritone dulcet growls, and Thacea’s angelic high-notes, all complimenting each other like something pulled from a fantasy music video.

“From the distant farlands—” Thalmin began, generating what looked to be a mini-representation of the farlands on one side of the ice rink.

“—to the castletops of Vuneria—” Ilunor continued, raising up scale models of his mountaintop kingdom.

“—we will strive to… build our legacies~” Thacea concluded with a resonant series of chirps, captivating me… and probably the crowds as well.

“Through maaagic, and academiiiaaa, we shall all strive… for our to-mo-rows~” They all blended into yet another chorus, as the music eventually came to a slow and gradual stop. 

The lyrics need work… but at least they got the singing right. I thought to myself.

The wedding-cake like ice tower eventually collapsed, with Thalmin quickly grabbing hold of Ilunor, the pair performing some out-of-theme parkour before landing on the pile of icy rubble that stacked up high in front of me.

However, with a flawless flick of her wings, Thacea immediately caused any and all changes to the field to immediately disappear, leaving just the bare dirt beneath her, causing a series of whispers and murmurs to flare up soon after.

I eventually joined back up with the group after that final… musical, standing just to the right of Thacea, hoping not to draw too much attention.

A single clap emerged from the crowds, followed by four more, all of which belonged to Cynthis’ group.

Afterwhich, more and more hands began their respectful claps, as Etholin took the lead to bring his side of the bleachers into some light cheers.

Soon enough, that gradual rise from subtle golf claps to full and remarkable applause made me swell up in pride, as did Thacea, Thalmin, but none more so than Ilunor who was quick to take to the front and bow and take in the revelry.

I looked on, and saw the praise of many, but also the scorn of a certain few.

The staff seemed nonplussed about it, and Chiska was all too excited.

Then I saw the face of the dean, singling me out as he wore that smile on his face. But his sharpened brow at me clued me in to what he might have really been thinking.

Maybe it was the spiteful brat in me, but that gave me as much enjoyment as the cheers.

“Lord Rularia’s performance marks the conclusion of the House Choosing Ceremonies. It is with this final holdover of the grace period that I now call upon the removal of all blinds — so that all may see the Nexus in its infinite glory.” He proclaimed in a tone that felt as menacing as it did cordial. Raising his staff up high, he quickly uttered. "Let the festivities commence!" He brought down his staff with a might fwoosh, a sharp bolt whistling upwards towards the overcast skies.

Yet another cryptic announcement… I thought to myself.

Little did I know, it wouldn’t be cryptic for long.

As the perpetually overcast skies started to shift further away the higher the bolt rose, the clouds that had been obscuring everything finally lifted, to reveal what I expected to be a starry night sky.

The operative word here being — expected.

Because instead of stars… all I was met with was darkness.

An empty black abyss where the stars should’ve been. 

“EVI?”

“Yes, Cadet Booker?”

“What the fu—”

FWWWOOOOOOSHHH-BANG!