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

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, instead opting to use my enhanced optics to zoom in to the sights that lay beyond it.

Almost all 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.

Most notable of all however, 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 true 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. Quite a few of the talks were above my paygrade, but what always caught my ear was how the two organizations wanted closer ties. Which didn’t really make sense to me, given the LREF’s area of responsibility was long range force projection in space and the IAS’ was almost exclusively the whole portal situation… 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 favor 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 mimicking 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 before-” 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.

Not a moment of silence was spared immediately following the elf’s departure, before the ball got rolling once again.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 225% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

“Thank you Princess.” Thalmin began, probably hinting at the creation of the same acoustic dampening bubble that had saved us twice over now over the past 14 hours. “Right, let’s get right to it. Now, I don’t want to intrude on how you carry yourself, Earthrealmer. Don’t judge me the wrong way here, but I will be blunt. As your peers, the way each of us are seen, the way each of us perform in both academic and social functions, will have an effect on us as a group. We need to tackle the sword-drawn-assassin in the room: your manner of attire.” The mercenary prince all but threw his hands up at me. “How do we approach this? It will certainly be a topic of much discussion, and an object of much speculation.”

“If we do not control the narrative first, then the narrative shall find its way into the hands of another, more than likely, malicious party.” Thacea interjected sharply, which prompted an approving nod by Thalmin.

“We need to frame it in a way that mitigates the risk of our group being singled out or completely cast-off from any and all academic and social opportunities.” Ilunor spoke, which surprised me given how he was actually now contributing. “I do not care for what the Earthrealmer claims as the truth, so long as the narrative we construct is sufficient to facilitate our group’s survival, and hopefully, prosperity.” He added with a sharp hiss.

“Truth, or forgery. Those are our two options.” Thacea presented a-matter-of-factly.

“In this situation I bet the old adage of truth is stranger than fiction really does apply here huh?” I quickly added, which prompted a cock of the head from all three parties. “I mean to say, in this situation, I bet constructing a story around the armor would inevitably be more believable. Since like, the genuine truth behind it… is asking for more than what most are willing to part ways with. That being like, you know, the very foundation of their reality? That’s kind of asking for too much of a leap of faith, rather than, say, constructing a lie about how the armor is a cultural thing or something.” I attempted to explain.

“Precisely.” Thacea snapped back with a single nod.

“Lying is not an option.” Thalmin began with a growl. “Forgery may be easier in the short term, but with all lies and deceit, time makes short work of them. In time, word will get out. If not by observation of the… inconsistencies of Emma’s existence, then more than likely the lie could be weaponized by the likes of the faculty. Forgery would be akin to plugging the hole in your vessel with a coat of heavy tar, it will stay for a while, but the waves will eventually eat right through it, or the wood surrounding it.”

Thacea seemed to take note of Thalmin’s own input as her eyes once more narrowed into that deep look of introspective analysis.

“The so-called truth will kill any reputability we have.” Ilunor spoke grimly. “Need I remind you that the house-choosing ceremony is slated to begin at the end of the five day grace period?”

“The risk posed to our group should the truth be revealed after the house choosing ceremony is far greater than being placed in a lesser house.” Thalmin argued, which was promptly cut off by the arrival of the three platters worth of food that was somehow being balanced all at once by the elven waiter. With two long silver dishes about two feet in length in both arms, and another floating in the air in front of him.

The platters were masterfully placed down in front of us with little in the way of fanfare, with the various dishes hidden under cloches not even once shaking as they found their way in front of the three lucky enough to be able to eat actual food.

With another deep bow by the elf followed by a dismissive wave by Ilunor, the man strode off, which prompted another question to quickly manifest in my head.

“Was he using magic?” I inquired bluntly.

“Yes, what is it to you, Earthrealmer?” Ilunor answered in his signature, haughtier-than-thou mannerisms.

“I thought magic was relegated to those in higher places and the elite-”

“He’s a gifted commoner, Earthrealmer. Certain commoners have some magical abilities through sheer luck of the draw, or by some gift of some minor deity. Although most of it is relegated to… well… that.”

“That?” I parroted back.

“Casting levitate on objects. Moving an item across a room at a distressingly slow pace. Maybe something else if they’re lucky. Overall, just pathetic excuses at actual magic. But, by virtue of this, since they do have some ability, they’re instantly a slight cut above the rabble.” Ilunor explained offhandedly and with a slight shrug. “That’s why they’re even allowed here without a chain around their neck or a wristband of transient passage.”

Ilunor’s explanations… similar to last night’s, weren’t just fucked because of what it conveyed. No. It went beyond that. The fact that he described social stratification in a way that was so casual, so matter-of-fact, in the same way you’d describe the ranks of UN civil service, or heck, the same way you’d describe a fundamental principle grounded in science and reality was honestly… unnerving.

There was a lot to unpack here, but we couldn’t get off track. Not right now at least. I quickly mouthed off a small order to make a mental note of this for another time, which the EVI logged instantly.

“I have a suggestion, if I may, Emma.” Thacea finally spoke, once more attempting to veer the conversation back on track.

“Shoot.”

“We coordinate a means of addressing this particular matter with the faculty.”

“What?”

“There is no guarantee of the manipulation of the truth or the narrative should we attempt to pursue this as a series of small battles. Convincing each individual student is to fight over a thousand battles over the course of months or years. Convincing the faculty to find a means of propagating or reinforcing the truth behind your armor, is fighting a single battle which shall silence any and all dissenters.”

I paused as I considered that. For most of the night I’d seen the faculty as the enemy throughout all of this. To see Thacea willing to work with them was jarring, but, the logic was there. I couldn’t deny it, and as a result, I was willing to work with this.

“And you think the faculty will somehow walk back on millenia’s worth of fundamental truths?!” Ilunor retorted incredulously.

“They will have to address this matter one way or another. Emma’s mere existence threatening the Nexus-line narratives will prove to be a constant loss of face should they allow it to continue without addressing it. It is better to be at the negotiation tables of this new narrative, rather than allowing it to happen without our voice being heard.” Thacea chirped back cleanly.

The whole situation just went deeper and deeper still… but considering today’s whole aim was to bring up the issue of the crate to one of the faculty members anyways, it was worth a shot to start lobbying for this issue to be discussed as well.

I already felt utterly exhausted from the mental gymnastics from this small meeting alone that I certainly wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the likes of Mal’tory and Vanavan.

“Alright.” I announced with a hefty sigh. “I think we’ll pursue that, yeah.” I replied simply, as the rest of the group seemed to have taken this momentary respite in discussions to begin revealing the delectable dishes underneath their respective cloches.

Once again, words couldn’t describe the absolute envy that ran through my veins as I was met with the sight of foods ripped straight out of a home and life magazine. Whereas the previous night was dominated by cuts of sizzling steak served straight from the kitchen, and fish with flesh so plump that I swore a single bite would lead to the most tender, melt-in-your-mouth sensation you could imagine… breakfast seemed to have taken a whole other direction. For starters, it went light on the meat. Instead focusing on an assortment of fruits that were works of art in their own right. Many of them were cut into patterns that would give even the most premium of home-cooking robots a run for their money. An assortment of cereals with portions barely large enough to fit a mini single-portion box partitioned into crystal chalices. To top that all off, what could only be described as the greatest collection of baked goods and pastries dominated the centerpiece of all three platters, stacked up atop of one of those rotating multi-story tiered pastry towers. Scattered amongst the main plates were small dishes of assorted smoked meats and fish, which of course were then accompanied by at least 10 different tiny saucers filled with a variety of toppings and sauces. Some of which even glowed.

With my sensory and cognitive dissonance having once again planted itself in the forefront of my mind, I attempted to veer my concerns back to the pertinent issues at hand… which were far easier said than done given the distracting nature of being able to see food but being unable to even smell it.

“Right, so, do the professors usually dine with us or, how does that work?” I asked.

“Ah, they usually sit and dine within this hall on a table towards the front of the room.” Thacea explained, pointing towards an empty table perched atop of a portion of the room that was purposefully elevated above the rest. “However, I do imagine that my theory from the night prior still stands. Their preoccupation with the book is more than likely preventing them from attending any of the day’s events.”

I nodded simply, but noticed a small figure at the far end of the table, shrouded in shadow. A figure which sat alone, wearing that same outfit from the previous night with the same baggy eyes that I swore got even worse from our last encounter. Indeed, as I zoomed in, I could tell exactly who it was, even without the EVI’s attention to detail as it cross referenced the facial recognition database it was quickly constructing somewhere in one of my suit’s databases.

“The professors may not be here, but she’s there though.” I gestured to the table.

“Ah, yes, the Apprentice from the previous night.” Thacea nodded once in reply.

“What exactly is her role here anyways? She’s wearing something similar to your Academy robes, yet she’s in cahoots with the professors?”

“She’s an apprentice, something of a rare sight at the Academy. Rarer still than the post-study peers who decide to continue their studies in a specialized field of study after the 5 years of standard academy study are complete.” The avian attempted to explain in between small bites of her breakfast. “They’re ostensibly on a fast-track to tenure at the Academy, a path of scholarship that sacrifices all ties with the outside world, with court politics and noble titles, in favor of an assured position within the Academy.”

I took pause at that, as I gripped my nutripaste pouch, priming it for insertion into the oral induction port. “So like an extreme version of a Fellowship in certain fields back on Earth.” I spoke out loud, yet it was more so for myself than anything.

“I have never heard such a term being used before, but I would assume so.” Thacea nodded. “Generally speaking, positions of academic tenure within the faculty are difficult to come across. Ruling out the special exception of the Black-Robe position which is a political one, Blue, Red, and White robes are all positions that come at a crossroads between personal merit, and court or scholarly ties.”

I quickly interjected at that latter point. “By ties you mean nepotism or corruption.”

Thacea seemed almost taken aback at that. Ilunor meanwhile seemed to scoff outloud at that notion. Thalmin meanwhile gave a slight nod of approval at my observation.

“It is just how things work in the Academy and the Nexus, Emma. Academy positions require a prerequisite of skill and merit, along with scholarly acumen. There is however, also a system that must be finessed in order to attain such positions. You must understand that such roles in the Academy are held primarily by the nobility. The fact that you have decided to pursue Academics does not mean you are granted immunity from the political world associated with the responsibilities of your noble title. Which is why the Apprenticeship programs are so rarely pursued. For whilst it guarantees an Academic tenure, it means the relinquishment of all ties that constitute your worldly possessions. You… effectively eschew all titles and connections to the real world, in the pursuit of a life of scholarship.” There was a careful pause of consideration, as if Thacea was poised and ready to explain something further, but decided against it.

“Right, okay, I guess that makes sense in the context of your society.” I nodded once, still holding on to the nutripaste packet an inch from my OIP. “So what was she doing delivering luggage at night? Was it probably a Mal’tory special request thing or-”

“Apprentices also perform a role that is otherwise difficult to perform by any other member of the Academy.” Thacea interjected before I could finish, as if she knew where I was going with this. “They act as the enforcers of the Academy’s rules and regulations, but likewise, as an intermediary between student disputes. They tend to each dormitory tower, and otherwise act in an administrative capacity for student lodgings.”

So they’re RAs. A cross between an extreme version of a post-grad student and an RA. I thought to myself.

“I think she might be our key to the professors then.” I announced.

Thacea took another careful bite of one of the berries, which seemed par for the course given her avian features. Though the clack of her beak following each bite was starting to get to me.

It was with that, that I stood up, only to have the entire room’s gaze suddenly come down on me all at once.

“Emma.” Thalmin growled tersely, gripping my wrist in an attempt to pull me back down. “Sit back down, now.”

I slowly sat back down, which likewise broke the collective staring.

“What the hell was that all about?”

“You don’t get to excuse yourself, the professors do. And in the case the professors aren’t here, the next person in line will. In this case, it’s her.” Thalmin gestured back to the long table with the lone apprentice. Who, to her credit, seemed to not pay much mind to my antics.

I looked to the timer on the upper right of my HUD, with it now approaching the 10th hour of the ticking time bomb, leaving us with just 62 hours on the clock.

“Well let’s hope she lets us off soon, for all of our sakes.”

ALERT: GENERALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 900% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

Everyone in the room seemed to jolt just as the warning came through. Looking around, I could see Thacea’s feathers standing up on end, only to lower back down moments after. The alert lasted for barely a couple of seconds, however, it seemed to have been the key to expediting my goals as the apprentice promptly stood up and began walking towards the front door.