Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (36/?) WiP 1 (Patreon)

Hey everyone! Here's the Work in Progress for Chapter 36 I hope you guys enjoy! :D

I found myself in a part of the castle that just physically could not exist.

The EVI, and every sensor it had, was completely at odds with the reality that the golem had led us into.

Because despite the countless hours of walking I’d done, and despite the meticulous mapping the EVI had carried out during all those hours, the space we had just stepped into just did not align with the geometries of what should exist in this section of the castle.

At least not what standard euclidean geometries would allow.

Physics, geometry, and my frazzled EVI aside, the hallways I was being led through were distinctly different from the ones I’d navigated thus far. The marble here was somehow brighter, same with the walls that looked as if they’d been carved out of a single piece of solid rock. The whole place gave me 3D printed, or factory-molded vibes, but without the minor imperfections that would’ve come with it.

As we made our way further and further still, stark white was becoming a constant theme, as each successive hall I was led to became increasingly brighter. Shadows began disappearing first, followed by what little textures remained, before leaving only the distinct outlines of the shapes that made up the walls. Eventually, nothing but the rough outlines remained, making me feel like I was walking through an unfinished art piece with just inked linework, or an unprocessed 3D render.

It felt like I was in a psychedelic music video at points.

Eventually, we made it out of the stark white, and back into something that more resembled the Academy I knew. In fact, it looked a bit older than the castle I had started to get used to.

The walls here were a mix of solid obsidian and a patterned marble, the floors were of a certain rock that felt hollow to walk on. More and more, the abstract art of the castle began to shift into sculptures of actual people. The paintings on the wall likewise started coming to life, as many moved about on their own, seemingly oblivious to the world that stood right in front of them.

It took a solid thirty minutes of walking, but eventually, we arrived at an absurdly large set of doors, in the middle of a part of a castle that no longer resembled the one I knew.

“Cadet Emma Booker, your newrealmer status prompts me to inform you of the Expectant Academic Decorum. You are to use these door knockers to knock on the door three successive times, in intervals of exactly three seconds. Do you understand these terms?” The golem finally broke the silence that had only been interrupted during the half an hour walk by the clacking of metal boots on marble and stone floors. His gravely, artificial voice breaking through the unnerving silence that dominated this space.

“Affirmative.” Was my go-to answer, as I steadied myself in front of those doors, reaching for the two large glowing metal rings on either side of it. “Here goes nothing…” I mumbled to myself behind my speakers as I went ahead with the motions, generating a gong-like noise that reverberated throughout the halls.

Seconds passed.

Then an entire minute.

Time in that lifeless place just passed slower, especially when you had a constant timer ticking away, reminding you of each and every second that passed.

It took a whopping five minutes before the doors finally creaked open, revealing an office that both looked exactly what I expected, yet was as fittingly bizarre as this whole non-euclidean wing of the castle.

The furnishings, decor, wallpaper, and color scheme all looked strikingly Victorian. Browns and greens dominated the space, as did reds and blacks, with plush seats and endless bookshelves dotting the massive space. In between those were sculptures and busts of predominantly elves, interrupted occasionally by what looked to be aquatic-like mamallians, and even an odd cat-person here and there.

Yet it was the expansiveness of the place that really threw me off, the sheer scale of it, as it was clear that half of this office was built for one very eccentric purpose; a purpose which loomed overhead ominously, unwaveringly, and worst of all… animatedly. Soaring in frozen place above the office with its wings outstretched was a dragon, or more specifically, a dragon that had been systematically dissected into varying states of dissection. Starting with its tail which was nothing but bleached, stark-white bones, flowing into its midsection consisting of pinkish-red muscle and sinew, before finally ending off at its head which was completely intact with black and blue scales that still pulsated with life. In fact, its entire head was still animated, as its features were locked in a permanent expression of what I could only describe as shock. Its two copper eyes were fixed forward with the determined gaze of a warrior engaged in combat, and only once for what felt like a split second did it actually register my presence. Though this was short lived.

I couldn’t tell if this was a twisted war trophy, or whether this was just another one of the self-proclaimed light mage’s projections. Whatever the truth was, I just really hoped it wasn’t alive, and if it was… I hoped it wasn’t in pain.

The dragon itself took up the space of a commercial shuttle, which forced me to walk a good seven hundred or so feet before I was even close to making out Mal’tory standing idly by his desk. His back was faced towards me, whilst his front remained transfixed on a view outside the window. A view which seemed to imply that we were still somewhere within one of the upper rungs of the castle’s many towers, as I could just about see the cluster of lights that made up the town which sat at the foot of the lake formed by the waterfall underneath the castle.

“Cadet Emma Booker.” Mal’tory spoke with a disinterested tone of voice, yet still managed to emphasize, enunciate, and punctuate each and every syllable in my name with a sardonic beat and rhythm. “Scarcely enough time has elapsed for the ink of your signature to dry, and yet your name finds itself quickly becoming engraved within the tapestry of discourse.” The man paused, letting out a barely audible sigh as he maintained his course, refusing to face me eye to eye. “Are we so eager now, to become part of the Academy’s lore? Have we a fire and a passion so strong that we eschew harmony for discord? Is this the norm for what might be expected from Earthrealm? Or is the candidate of Earthrealm so brazen in her personal desires for notoriety that she loses sight of the candidacy she represents?”

I remained silent, refusing to respond. This seemed to finally prompt the man to shift his course, as he turned around slowly, revealing a crystal ball cradled between both his hands. “Your tongue, Cadet Emma Booker. Shall I remind you that you have one to speak with?” The man continued, neither his ash-gray complexion nor his yellow eyes once betraying even a sliver of emotion, despite his choice of words so evidently hinting at his open disdain.