Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (38/?) WiP 1 (Patreon)

Hey everyone! Here's the Work in Progress for Chapter 38 I hope you guys enjoy! :D 

Ten minutes after the start of this journey, and the forest was already starting to thin out into something that more resembled quiet, peaceful, rural farmlands.

Although this whole ride was anything but peaceful.

My mind had been preoccupied with my sudden displacement in time, but more concerningly, the impact it had on the whole crate predicament and the timer that ticked closer and closer towards an inevitable oblivion.

Though thankfully, I still had options open to me so that I wouldn’t just be sitting here worrying. I was doing everything I could to make up for lost time, to make sure I would have all the intel necessary to carry out the final leg of this operation the moment I stepped foot into town.

My drones were helping me in that venture; all three of them. My eyes were glued to all three of their flight-patterns as they zipped across the open skies, through a disconcertingly empty airspace.

It was wild to see just how empty everything was here. Whereas every square inch of Earth’s airspace across every imaginable altitude was sectioned off into hundreds of thousands of partitions… nothing like that existed here. It was just empty skies, save for the occasional flock of birds or strange magical artifice that whizzed by every minute or so.

This made making a mad-dash towards the town relatively simple as the flight of drones kept at their full speed, destined to triangulate the signal to a precise location, and tasked with mapping out the local area as best as they could. This would give me a local map and rudimentary directions when I reached the town, expediting my rush towards wherever the heck the crate was.

Though at least I’d finally been able to determine where it was… and at least its location was quickly being triangulated.

But why’d it have to be in the fucking town of all places? I thought to myself, quietly hoping that it wasn’t in any central or residential location. Because if it did go off… in the middle of night at that…

I didn’t even want to imagine the collateral or the fallout that would result from that disaster.

I was practically glued to my HUD before I heard a series of successive dings coming from my cabin door, followed abruptly by a soft, skittish voice belonging to that of Lord Lartia’s aide. “Excuse the intrusion, Cadet Emma Booker, but Lord Lartia requests your presence in the main parlor.”

It still boggled my mind how this whole… traincar was arranged. Because it literally was just that, a train car, complete with individual cabins, and a large parlor where the main entrance was located.

I took a moment to compose myself with an inward sigh, before getting up and out of my seat, and towards that folding door.

There was nothing else I could do with the drones anyways. The battlefield management system would ping me if any urgent orders were needed, and it wasn’t like I needed an excuse to shut myself off from the world to address those issues if it came to it.

Opening that folding door, I was met with the short, hooded elf who would’ve honestly been just a head shorter than me outside of the suit. She looked at me pleasantly enough, not showing any signs of being bothered by the hulking mass of metal nor the two unwavering lenses that stared down at her.

“Are the accommodations to your liking, Cadet Emma Booker?” The young woman spoke in what could only be described as a more genuine version of your typical customer service tone of voice.

“Yeah, thank you. I don’t really see the need for it since it’s supposed to be a half hour journey, but I appreciate the gesture.” I acknowledged with a single nod.

“It’s our pleasure, my lady. Now, if you’ll follow me.” She began ‘leading the way’ towards the parlor… which was again, excessive and completely unnecessary given it was just 20 feet away from the narrow corridors flanked on both sides by rooms and cabins.

Entering the parlor, I still felt the same strange offness I felt the moment I entered the carriage.

And it wasn’t the fact that the interior space was giving the EVI another non-euclidean error-ridden panic attack.

Nor was it because of the small gaggle of bards in the corner of the traincar-sized space that serenaded us with music befitting of a Dungeons and Wyverns session.

It wasn’t even because of the impossible smoothness of the ride that stood in stark contrast to the bumpy ups and downs clearly seen through the windows.

It was because-

“Ah! Where are my manners! Would you care for some tea, Cadet Emma Booker? Perhaps some twilight tonic? I must apologize for the limited offerings I have on stock. The royal warrant for this venture came as an unexpected and abrupt urgent request; we scarcely had enough time to reorganize our stores for this impromptu journey!”

It was because everyone, from the aide to the Lord himself, was playing nice.

“No, no, I’m fine, thanks. I can’t really drink, let alone eat in this thing, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass on all of that, thanks.” I managed out as best I could given the weight of the world bearing down on me.

“Ah, I see! Apologies if I have transgressed in any way, Cadet Emma Booker! I did not realize you were under a vow of seclusion, or an oath of knightly resolve.”

“Excuse me, a what-now?”

“A vow of seclusion or an oath of knightly resolve.” He reiterated with a smile. “I assume the reason why you refuse the hostly courtesies of expectant decorum to be due to your your commitments to higher values overruling the appropriate responses of a guest.” The elf continued before suddenly, and abruptly, shifting his course in the conversation once more. “However if both of my assumptions are incorrect, I must apologize for any infractions incurred to your personal honor, Cadet Emma Booker. It would seem as if my transgressions know no bounds on this fair night! Your culture is completely unknown to me, so I wish to be as accommodating as possible in order to best represent the courtesy of a host. Even if my extension of courtesy is indeed bound to just this small jaunt from the forest to the village, it is still in my honor and within the bounds of expectant decorum to be civil in such exchanges.”

“I…” I stuttered out, before halting halfway. Part of me was just too thrown off by the complete tonal whiplash to really continue. Another part of me was just too tired to come up with any witty banter given the newfound pressures of the shortened countdown timer taking up the majority of my headspace.

“Have I spoken something to warrant a vow of silence, Cadet Emma Booker?” The man continued, as I still struggled to find words to appropriately respond with.

He was supposed to be a noble… right?