Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (15/?) WiP 1 (Patreon)

Hello everyone here's the Work in Progress for Chapter 15 I hope you guys enjoy! :D 

I don’t even know where to start.

There was just so much going on that contrasted with the gaudiness of the Grand Hall that I found it hard to believe this room was even in the same building.

For starters, I felt like I’d just entered a space that was an unimaginable cross between a Cathedral and one of those Hyperrevivalist buildings that had been popular after the 2nd Intrasolar war following the devastation it had wrought on old Earth cities, the Lunar Hab-Spheres, and Martian Hab-Domes alike. Walking in through double doors wide enough to comfortably fit a small two-stage shuttle, I was greeted with a floor to ceiling window that went up a good 14 stories. The entire room felt like an expansive atrium with open-design planning in mind. Outcroppings of balconies from unknown and unreachable floors dangled overhead in a step-wise pattern. Twisting and turning like a pile of books on display in an antique store. The glass itself was clear, and granted an unparalleled view of the world beyond the castle.

From here, I could see a literal waterfall emerging from what I can only assume was somewhere underneath the castle, cascading down a 200 foot sheer cliff face into a river system that fed into a massive lake below. We were more than likely on some sort of large hill, or heck, maybe even a small mountain. Whilst I was immediately drawn to the window, I didn’t walk to it right away, simply using my enhanced optics to zoom in to the sights that lay beyond it.

Most of the sights were dominated by these immaculate vistas of rolling green hills, punctuated by large swaths of dark green forests, interrupted occasionally by carefully tilled farms and pastures of grazing livestock.

Of course, most notable of all, was this sprawling town just at the edge of the lake. The town was practically puny by Earth standards, but larger than the heritage town I grew up in, in Middle America. The tallest building was, unsurprisingly, a Church-like tower. Surrounding it were buildings that were topped with mostly tiled and wooden roofings, with not a single thatched hut in sight. It was difficult to gauge from here and at this angle, but if I were to hazard a guess I’d say it could fit a good 10, maybe even 20 thousand people in it. Small boats and a few larger barges could be seen lazily floating on the lake, with a few meandering down some of the rivers that flowed from it downstream to destinations unknown.

This was the fantasy world I’d expected…

Yet this fantasy could only last for as long as I could maintain that gleeful ignorance of the world around me. Something that was difficult to really do when a certain throaty, nasally, voice was directed towards you.

“Enthralled by the grandeur and splendor of the Nexus, Earthrealmer?” Ilunor piped up, practically shattering the immersion I had of this idyllic fantastical realm. It honestly felt as if someone had just forcefully skipped a particularly engaging cutscene or began talking obnoxiously in the middle of a movie theater.

I refused to respond, which I knew was a mistake as it prompted even more poking and prodding at, by the discount kobold.

“Aha! I thought so! A trickster to the core. So enthralled are you, a barbarian from a backwater world of rickety huts and flimsy tents, that you find it difficult to do anything but become mesmerized by the grandeur of a perfect world. Indeed, whilst you may have your little tricks, such trickery cannot truly extend to the world around you. You may have non-artificed constructs of small, diminutive size and make, but to construct and fabricate a falsehood larger than a small self-contained illusionary toy is something that is certainly beyond you, Earthrealmer. Truth is most often revealed in moments of emotional vulnerability, at times when it is impossible to control oneself. To react in such a way to a typical sight here in the Nexus speaks volumes as to the real nature of your realm.” The Vunerian continued, which prompted me to begin taking mental notes to one day rev up the holoprojector. Primarily for the expressed purposes of showing this lizard just a glimpse of the Acela Corridor. That would, however, be something for future me to worry about.

The rest of the room was arranged in a manner that very much resembled the formal dining venues I had some limited experience with. Most of my experiences with such high-end establishments were clustered around the tail-end of my time on Earth, as I was dragged along for breakfasts and lunches by the higher echelons of the IAS. Much of it was for unofficial off-site meetings. More often than not it was an unofficial way of discussing superficial aspects of the program with the LREF’s own upper brass. Though a pet theory of mine was that they knew that I’d be without proper food for an entire year, so they made it a point to take me along with them as much as they could as a means of making up for that fact. Almost all of these breakfasts and lunches took place at the Waterfront, one of the few hotels strategically placed just outside of the UN Special Administrative Region where the IAS was located. Yet even then, the sight of contemporary luxury just couldn’t compare to the ridiculous over-exaggerated wealth of the Nexus.

It wasn’t that it couldn’t compete, it’s just that the Nexus seemed to flavor flashiness over class.

Whilst the Waterfront was subdued and classy, the Nexus instead went all-in on the wealth display. Everywhere I looked I could see something gold plated, and everytime I heard the clinking of silverware, I was more than sure it actually was silver. Yet despite all of its over ostentatiousness, everything here looked like it belonged in some heritage home or museum, which just didn’t vibe with my tastes for more modern, contemporary aesthetics.

Surprisingly, there wasn’t a buffet line or queue. Something that even the Waterfront had.

Instead, students seemed to be clustered in groups of either 4 or 5, clearly indicative of the peer groups that had been assigned the previous night. In addition to this, everyone seemed to be taken to their seats by wait staff that were surprisingly not the raggedy, sickly looking smaller elven slaves I’d seen from the previous night. Instead, there were a wide array of races that were clearly designated as the wait staff by both their uniforms and mannerisms. From lizard-like species that eerily resembled Ilunor to the feline-like races that resembled the PE teacher from the previous night, to even elves. The whole scene looked and felt like a proper establishment and for a moment you could almost imagine that this was what the Academy was. A place of magical arts and fantastical societies, not a place of trans-dimensional political intrigue and slavery.

We were eventually led to our table by one of these wait-staff, a male elf wearing a simple tunic and pants, both of which however were gold-lined and actually glittered like some odd attempt at the failed post-spacer fashion that never really caught on.

Similarly to last night, our table was very much out of the way. Whether or not this was deliberate was something I’d worry about later, for now, the name of the game was-

“My table will have the entire platter.” Thalmin interrupted what was effectively my unbroken chain of internal monologing that had been running ever since we arrived at the dining hall.

“Yes sire, but, would the sire wish to hear of this morning’s selected offerings-” The waiter attempted to speak, but was promptly cut off by overly eager Lupinor.

“I said, the entire platter. And make it four.” The lupinor continued, only to stop when he laid his eyes on me. “I mean, three.” He corrected himself.

“Actually, if it’s possible I’d like mine’s, but like, to-go?” I asked, which seemed to raise more questions than not as the waiter cocked his head in response.

“Ah, if the fair knight would wish for her breakfast to be serviced to her residence, it shall be done.” The waiter bowed deeply. In fact, he took the time and effort to bow deeply at each of us, holding each bow for an uncomfortably long time before moving on to process our orders.