Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

I didn't even know where to begin.

When the gang first told me our first stop of the day was the Grand Dining Hall, I expected it to be more of the same. The same gaudiness, with the same dated displays of wealth, and the same desire to hit you in the face with so much crap that anyone who wasn’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth would feel too intimidated to even enter.

What I found when I arrived was exactly just that, and then some. The room not only managed to surpass my expectations, but also subverted it in ways I wasn’t ever expecting.

For starters, I felt like I’d just entered a space that was an impossible 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, 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 single pane of 14-story tall glass at the end of the room was clear, and granted an unparalleled view of the world beyond the castle.

Through it, I could see a literal waterfall emerging from what I can only assume was somewhere underneath the castle. The frothy mouth of the waterfall cascaded down a 200 foot sheer cliff into a river system that fed into a massive lake below. This meant that 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 mostly by tiled and wooden shingles, 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 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.

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

“I admit, your mana-less tricks, your unconventional methodologies towards achieving results traditionally thought of as only capable via mana-manipulation, are indeed impressive. Yet impressiveness can only go so far.” The lizard began, warming up his mental gymnastics, which I more than expected to rival Mal’tory’s. “I have thus far attempted to refrain myself from using terminology reserved for commoners, and verbal assaults reserved for those underneath our stations, but… alas, I find myself at too short of a rope to truly care. Considering your commoner heritage, I expect you not to mind too much.” The lizard was clearly preparing for some sort of a verbal smack-down, the extent to its effectiveness remained to be seen. “I believe you to be a trickster, Earthrealmer. Perhaps it is merely you, or perhaps it extends to your entire race. However, my observations from your reactions at a sight so trivial and banal to us Nexians speaks leagues as to your true nature. You claim to be from a land starved, famished, and utterly impoverished due to a lack of mana, and I believe you. I don’t doubt it one bit now. To see a sight not only so lush and fruitful, but likewise, so developed and civilized must be something entirely alien to you.”

I looked down at the lizard with a perplexed expression underneath my helmet. Ilunor simply continued smiling in that cocksure expression that I so desperately wanted to wipe off.

“I saw right through your memory-shard trickery, Earthrealmer. Don’t play me for a fool. There’s a reason why you chose that natural vista on that mana-less artifice as the primary means by which to bedazzle us.” The lizard waited for my response, baiting me on, which I had no choice but to take, given how I wanted the Vunerian to just get it all out of his system so we could move on.

“Okay, what’s the reason?” I stared at him, groaning in annoyance.

“It’s because there is nothing else in your world to show off, and, as with any trickery, the imagination can only stray so far away from what’s available for inspiration. Thus, given that the only thing you were able to show was lakes, trees, and mountains… I expect that the state of your world is probably even grimmer than that, if your attempt at a showstopper is indeed simply trees and greenery.” The lizard puffed up his chest. “You’ve probably never seen a town, or a collection of buildings beyond a few hole-ridden tents. I assume that a world without mana could only support a small, basic facsimile of a civilization. A small village of rickety huts, and maybe one or two tanned-hide tents? Perhaps a forge nestled and built into a cave with natural ventilation. With just barely enough competence to pool together enough resources for a single suit of armor, and a few mana-less toys by which to construct a good first impression for us Nexians.” Ilunor went on and on and on without once taking a breath to speak. It was as if he’d swung hard on the pendulum of begrudging acceptance and complete self-delusion.

If it wasn’t for the fact that we were outside, in the open, and in front of other students… I’d punt the discount Kobold. The fucking lizard was really testing my patience far more than even the Call to Valor lobbies I’d frequented as a teen.

I was fucking furious.

But I also got where he was coming from.

If I was indoctrinated into a system that forced a single reality upon myself to a degree that didn’t allow for any ability for freedom of thought, critical thinking, or even basic human empathy… I bet I might’ve turned out just like the lizard. The fact of the matter was, Ilunor was just flat-out in denial. His entire perception of self-image was inextricably tied with the world he was taught as infallible. To lose that reality, meant his own unquestionable noble right was at risk. And because he was taught he was hot shit, he couldn’t really get out of that mindset without either slow, gradual, acclimatization, or breaking him entirely.

And whilst I wanted the latter, I knew that the correct way forward was the former.

Sometimes I hated being the good guy, and being bound to all of the operational parameters set forth by the IAS.

“EVI, make sure to remind me to bring out the holoprojector and to prep the Acela Corridor holo-runtimes sometime in the future.” I spoke inside my helmet, temporarily muting myself from the outside.

“Acknowledged, Emma Booker.” The EVI responded in its signature, blunt monotone.

Movie-night and subsequent Earth cultural exchange nights will become a regular weekly fixture for the gang. I’d make sure of it, but again, that would be an issue for future me to worry about after the bomb situation was sorted.

“Ilunor.” I sighed loudly through my vocoders, making sure to stand as tall and as intimidatingly as possible above the lizard as I spoke. “I don’t want to get into this right now. Not again, not right in the morning when we have a lot more crap to deal with. So let’s just go get something to fucking eat.”

This didn’t seem to satisfy Ilunor as his tail stopped wagging almost as quickly as I’d refused to participate in his delusions. My gaze soon shifted from the lizard, and back towards the Grand Dining Hall.

The rest of the room reminded me of some of the high-end restaurants I had some exposure to. 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 big shots at 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. Regardless of the specifics behind their interdepartmental flirting, I think I knew the reason why they were treating me to fancy meals whenever they had the chance to. It was simply because they wanted to make up for the fact that I’d be without proper food for an entire year, and this was more than likely their way of making up for the 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 based out of. 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 game. Everywhere I looked I could see something gold plated, and every time I heard the clinking of silverware, I was more than sure it was actual 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 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 monologuing 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 contributing now. “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 gods-willing, prosperity.” He added with a sharp hiss.

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

“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, I think constructing a whole story behind the armor would be way more believable wouldn’t it? Since like, if we ask for everyone to accept the truth it’d be asking a lot.” 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 a hole in a ship 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 opinions 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 results of 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 a small flourish, 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 exclusive 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 for magic. However, by virtue of having 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.

“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?” I leaned back, incredulous.

“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 opposing force throughout all of this. To see Thacea willing to work with them was jarring, but, the logic was there. It just still didn’t sit well with me.

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

“They will have to address this matter one way or another. Emma’s mere existence here poses a significant threat to the reality the Nexus has imposed as infallible truths. Allowing her existence to go unaddressed will prove to be a constant source of embarrassment, and an unending loss of face and reputability. Regardless of what we decide to do, there will be talks within the upper echelons to establish a new narrative and a new set of truths to address Emma’s existence. Whether or not we choose to be part of this discussion to have our voices heard, or whether we allow this to be dictated to us, is a choice we must make.” Thacea chirped back cleanly.

The whole situation kept getting more convoluted, 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.

“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 opening up the cloches in front of them, revealing the delectable treats underneath.

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.

With sensory 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 here, or how does that work?” I asked.

“Ah, they usually sit and dine at the professor’s table.” 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 believe that my theory from the night prior is holding true. 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 facial recognition database.

“The professors may not be here, but she is.” 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. Rarer still than the post-study peers who choose to continue down a specialized field after their five years are complete.” The avian attempted to explain in between small bites of crisp, buttery pastries. “Apprentices are ostensibly on a fast-track to tenure, a path of scholarship that sacrifices all ties with the outside world, relinquishing 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 helmet’s oral induction port. “So like a more intense version of a Fellowship in certain fields back on Earth.” I spoke out loud, more so for myself than anything.

“I have never heard such a term being used before, but perhaps.” Thacea nodded. “Generally speaking, positions of academic tenure within the faculty are difficult to attain. Ruling out the special exception of the Black-Robed 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 just scoffed out loud. 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. 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 position within 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 a post-grad student and an RA. I thought to myself.

“I think she might be our key to the professors then.” I announced, as I stood up with the intent to approach the apprentice, 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 only lasted for a few seconds. However, it seemed to have been the key to expediting my goals as the apprentice promptly stood up, poised for an announcement.