Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

I’d expected panic to envelope the room. A generalized surge of mana-radiation wasn’t something to be trifled with, no. In fact, it spelled danger in every sense of the word.

The training I received on the mana-radiation sensory analytics and detection system (M-RSADS), had placed great emphasis on delineating between each specific category of warning. Indeed, whilst the scientists and engineers back at home had a penchant for overcomplicating things, this particular system was completely off-limits to their shenanigans. It was a classic case of the end-user finally getting their way, and one of the many times the military elements within the IAS had sunk their heels in to make sure the overly eager scientists didn’t get too lost in their own sauce.

Intuitiveness and practicality was the name of the game here, because this whole system was a matter of life and death. Not a matter of desk-bound data analytics.

This was how the broad-strokes, two-category system of mana radiation detection was born.

If the scientists had their way, there would be literally hundreds more, but thankfully I only had two to worry about.

The reason behind why the two-category system was chosen, was rather expectedly, a matter of practicality. Simply put, it allowed me to rapidly assess and evaluate the threat posed by mana-radiation, and how best to respond accordingly.

Localized surges were bursts of mana-radiation with a specific point of origin that the suit’s sensors could definitively locate. There was a discrete radius of effect, and a clear-cut path towards either dealing with the source of the radiation or simply booking it out of there as fast as the suit’s powered exoskeleton and jump-packs could manage.

Generalized surges however, were an entirely different beast. As the name would suggest, all a generalized surge was, was a surge in mana-radiation without a specific point of origin. There was no clear radius of effect as the entire extent of the suit’s sensors would be bathed in a consistent, uninterrupted increase in background mana-radiation with no discernible point where the radiation drops off. Understandably, this was the worst possible scenario to be in, because neither fight nor flight protocols could be undertaken. For there was no clear area to flee to, and no particular point of origin to neutralize.

I was thus, beyond relieved that this surge of mana radiation lasted for but a whopping grand total of two and a half seconds.

“There is no need to be alarmed.” The shrill voice of the apprentice echoed throughout the massive expanse of the room. “The ebbs and flows of the Academy’s mana-streams are stronger than what you might be accustomed to back in your home realms. Such occurrences are normal and to be expected, as but part of the Academy’s unwavering adherence to the unending odyssey that is the scholarly pursuit of the magical arts. Take this as the first unofficial lesson, pay no mind and carry on.”

The apprentice soon stood up, gathering her belongings and adjusting her cloak. “You are to be dismissed, but do recall the rules and make certain to observe the etiquette of the Academy’s grace period. Remain within the common areas, stay exclusively within the designated spaces, and take this time as a necessary respite prior to the commencement of your studies.”

Without much in the way of fanfare, the elf soon quickly made a b-line for one of the side exits. The harsh clacking of her reasonably practical boots reverberated with each hurried step she took, her path on a direct course to pass by our table.

With all pretenses of social decorum and court etiquette thrown completely out the window, I stood up, and effectively blocked the elf’s path with the sheer presence of my armor.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly acquainted.” I announced, attempting to make up for the lack of social etiquette like a band-aid on a gaping wound. “There’s something urgent that requires the attention of the faculty, and I assume you’re the right person to relay my concerns to them.” I tried my very best to hold back on going all-in on the accusations and the obvious finger pointing. If this was someone with solid connections to the top, yet was grounded enough to have eschewed whatever noble titles that came with it, there was a chance I’d misjudged her from the previous night. There was a chance I could at least have some sort of a working relationship with her.

“Emma of Earthrealm, this isn’t the time or place for such pleasantries, there are urgent matters I must attend to-”

“Like that surge in mana.” I interjected.

“I am not at liberty, nor do I have the time to entertain any of your newrealmer concerns. At least not at this instance. Now please, I have urgent matters concerning Academy affairs I must attend post-haste.” She attempted to skirt past me, and was just about to if it wasn’t for Thacea’s entry into the conversation.

“Honorable Apprentice, the newrealmer wishes to invoke a point of personal privilege.” Thacea spoke without even attempting to stand up, not even so much as turning to face the apprentice in question. Instead, she remained sat at the table, her eyes trained forward towards her half eaten breakfast in calm contemplation. “You must excuse her brashness, esteemed peer. It is, after all, unreasonable to expect a newrealmer to properly invoke or even recognize the proper calls to decorum. So, if you would please, I would most certainly prefer her calls to privilege be respected by an official entity of the Academy.” The last sentence came off as something halfway between a suggestion, an order, and a request. It was that careful balance of suggestive authority that was difficult to really nail, but given Thacea’s royal heritage I could only assume it was practically second nature to her now.

The apprentice all but halted in her tracks at that, her eyes seemed to shift from an expression of urgency and annoyance to one of apprehension and genuine unease. Her tone of voice changed drastically as she addressed me again. This time, that dismissive and frankly patronizing tone had all but vanished, now replaced by a more reasonable, level-toned cadence with an undertone of frustration. “Of course, princess. Emma Booker of Earthrealm, my affairs should be concluded within the early hours of the afternoon. Should you wish to pursue your point of personal privilege, I shall be in the castle’s main garden. Ask Groundskeeper Alaton for my exact whereabouts, I shouldn’t be more than a hundred paces from the castle at any given time.” The elf adjusted her cloak once more, followed by a nervous cough. “Now, I must take my leave.” She spoke as she bid our entire table a half-nod before exiting the room.

In those precious few seconds before she reached for the door, I made a call that could only be described as impulsive, and driven purely by my gut instinct.

Tapping a few physical hotkeys on my wrist-mounted data-pad, with target reticules trained on the apprentice highlighting her entire form in a glowing orange, I released one of the many toys I had at my disposal.

“INFIL-DRONE01 ACTIVE, STATUS: NOMINAL. OBJECTIVE: PRIORITY TRACKING AND RECONNAISSANCE OF SUBJECT_01. MISSION PARAMETERS: PENDING…”

“Track, observe, and return-to-base. Take no chances. Set minimum acceptable risk of compromise to the lowest default settings.” I spoke rapidly, relaying the drone’s mission parameters.

The dragonfly-like drone barely the size of the tip of my finger zipped right out of its docking bay from one of my suit’s many compartments and trailed behind the apprentice, exiting through the tiny space left in the door just before it swung shut.

With a long exhale having committed to a mission based solely off of my gut instinct, I sat back down at the table, and began the process of connecting the nutripaste tube to my OIP.

“Emma.” Thacea spoke up, her voice colored by an undertone of audible frustration.

“Yes, Thacea?”

“How much time do we have left?”

I immediately knew what she was talking about as I quickly glanced at the countdown timer on my HUD. “61 hours, 54 minutes, and 37 seconds.”

The princess seemed to take this into careful consideration, glancing over at a golden orb connected via a chain to her cloak jacket. The object glowed with a dull yellow hue, blinking with each second that passed. “After you finish your breakfast, let us make haste with our plans for the afternoon, and make the most out of the rest of this morning.”

I was just about to nod, and to move towards agreeing with Thacea if it wasn’t for Ilunor suddenly perking up and addressing all of us first. “The rest of this morning? I’m afraid I have more pressing matters to attend to.” The Vunerian jumped off of his seat and onto the marble floors with a loud clack.

“What affairs could you possibly have?” Thalmin growled out in a fit of annoyance.

“Personal affairs. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in the dorms if and when my business is concluded.” Ilunor explained without a hint of hesitation as he began walking off, eventually blending in with the slow trickle of students leaving out through the main door.

“Laziness.” Thalmin huffed in between bites of smoked meats and pastries. “Laziness to the rotten thing’s core.” He continued in between large and unrestrained mouthfuls of carefully presented cold-cuts. “That’s all this is about. Trust me, he’ll be walking to the dorms for a post-breakfast nap before waking up for lunch and repeating the cycle for dinner.”

With that bizarre turn of events out of the way, I now turned towards Thacea. “Right, so, next order of business, I think we should find a productive way to kill time between now and the afternoon’s meeting. I say we take the initiative, and track down the crate ourselves for now. It’s a longshot, but I'm thinking of roaming the halls with my scanner on full blast just in case we run into it in a hallway or something.”

“Considering that there is no other course of action for us to take at the present, I am inclined to agree.” Thacea nodded in approval.

“Erm, quick question, can you deploy the whole noise cancellation suppression field thing while on the move as well?” I quickly asked.

“Yes. It requires a more advanced version of the spell but it’s within my capabilities. Why do you ask?” Thacea inquired with a cock of her head.

“There’s erm, something you need to know that I think you should hear after breakfast. We can talk about it while we’re on the move.” I spoke as I finally committed to the gut churning process of introducing the tube of paste to my OIP, the airlocks and pneumatics whirring away as that familiar taste of shredded beef in barbecue sauce in a chunky toothpaste consistency filled my mouth.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, First Floor Grand Concourse, Secondary Corridor. Local Time: 1000 Hours.

“You what?!” Thacea yelled, or rather, squawked out incredulously.

“I, well, I decided on deploying a drone to keep tabs on the apprentice. I don’t trust the whole: ‘this burst of mana radiation is just a common occurrence’ thing, it just doesn’t sit right with me. It’s all too convenient. A huge burst like that followed with her getting up and leaving? There has to be something to it, and I have a massive hunch it has something to do with my crate.” I explained emphatically.

“Emma… the risks involved with that decision are far beyond what I would be comfortable entertaining as a mere thought experiment, let alone an actual spur-of-the-moment decision.” The avian explained, clearly holding back her desires to verbally dress me down. “The Nexus, and by extension the Academy, are masters at espionage and subterfuge. To try to challenge them at a game they are adept in is a foolish, and frankly, senseless undertaking.” The princess’ plumage puffed up and down, ruffling between each cycle. There was little doubt that this was something way outside her comfort zone, as we tread deeper into uncharted territory.

I allowed Thacea to just breathe for a few moments after that panicked response before I finally responded.

“You’re completely right, Thacea.” I nodded deeply. “I don’t doubt the veracity of any one of your claims for a second.” I continued, speaking with an unfiltered sincerity that was causing the avian to raise what I assumed was her equivalent of an eyebrow. “The Nexus must be good at what they do if they’ve lasted for what, tens of thousands of years? I can’t compete with that. Heck, I know for a fact I have no chance at beating them at their own game. It’s impossible for me to wage war against something so much larger, so much wiser, so much more refined in their skill sets and methods.”

“But here’s the thing.” I soon shifted gears, as confidence and cockiness began to fill the cracks left behind by that agreeable sincerity. “I don’t need to. Because I’m not waging the same war they’re waging, nor am I playing the same games they’re playing. I’m setting up for a whole other game here, Thacea. One with a completely different set of rules, and one with a completely different set of criteria for victory. It’s a game the Nexus has never once touched, but that my people have had thousands of years to fine-tune and perfect.” I took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t doubt for a fact that I can’t compete at the Nexus by their rules, but the same can be said for the Nexus’ ability to play by my rules. So whilst I do agree, my decision to send that drone out was brash, it was a calculated move on my part that I felt was an acceptable risk given the context involved.”

It was with that, that I let out a large sigh, awaiting Thacea’s response.

A response which never came as a warning lit up inside of my suit’s helmet.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 200% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

PRIORITY ALERT: WARNING INCOMING PROJECTILE

My training kicked in, around the same time my suit decided that it needed to intervene on my behalf as the improvised projectile was brought up on-screen, and I felt my head and neck forcibly shunted to the right by the augmented rapid-reaction measures courtesy of the suit’s exoskeleton.

I narrowly evaded the unknown object in a blink of an eye.

But it wasn’t over yet.

PRIORITY ALERT: PROJECTILE (NO DATABASE REGISTRY… N/A: DESIG_UAO1) ON INTERCEPT TRAJECTORY. PERMISSION TO ENGAGE? Y/N?

The damn thing took another swoop at me, yet this time aimed for my legs instead, as it carried out an incessant series of pass-bys.

I refused to use the gauntlet canons to deal with this, so on one of its last approaches, I reached up a single arm and swiped it right out of the sky. My hands clenched the damn thing tightly, crumpling it up into a compressed ball.

It was then that my mind finally registered what it actually was.

The texture it conveyed through my glove’s haptic feedback systems was unmistakable.

It was paper.

The damn thing was a paper bird animated by mana

This was a grade-school level attempt at messing with me.

It didn’t take long for the perpetrators behind this whole childish escapade to make themselves known, as a series of condescending claps echoed from around the corner, followed by the appearance of a group of 4 students each dressed to their nines in their noble attire.

Two of the four I immediately recognized from the previous night. The gorn-like reptilian Lord Qiv who volunteered to be first on the chopping block, and the unfortunate bear-like biped, Uven Kroven who was chosen soon after.

Qiv was very much still dressed in a manner akin to the previous night, with that cape covering much of the silken tunic and the dispelling amulet underneath.

Uven, meanwhile, had donned a simpler set of clothes. A deep brown leather cloak that covered a more vibrant wave-like pattern tunic and pants underneath, with what seemed to be a broach resembling a set of three paws on the right side of the cloak’s high-collar.

“Well, well, well… it seems as if our great knight lives up to her reputation after all.” Qiv spoke in a manner that was drenched with a level of haughty superiority that not even Ilunor could match.

“I must say, with that hand-eye coordination and those rapid-reflexes, indeed… with how naturally she leaped for the Podgy-Pa, one must assume she comes from a realm of primates!” One of the other students within the group spoke, this one looked eerily bat-like, with heavy drape-like webbing underneath her arms.

“Oh, be reasonable Airit, we cannot yet assume what species she must be, only that the results of this experiment heavily infers her commoner heritage. To be able to reach up to grab prey in such a manner is a skill that only those who subsist day by day must master. This is confirmation as to her commoner status if anything.” The last in the group quickly added. This one was small, smaller than even Ilunor, standing at a whopping 3 feet tall, and from the looks of it resembled a well-kept humanoid rat, or perhaps a hamster.

“What do you say, Uven?” The hamster turned to the Ursina, who seemed to be zoned out of his mind as he merely shrugged in response, his eyes were clearly open but they betrayed the fact that no one was home.

“It’s just mana-sickness, don’t worry about him.” The bat-like Airit reasoned, as all eyes were once more focused on me. “I say this experiment might even be quite telling as to the state of her realm. The armor is a showpiece, and her abilities to reach for prey, betrays just how destitute and lacking her realm must truly be. If the chosen one of a new realm is accustomed to such lesser skills, just imagine what the rest of it must be like!”

The bat and hamster pair giggled amongst themselves, whilst the reptilian Qiv maintained a careful, calculating gaze on me and the princess behind me.

To say that I was at a loss for words would be an understatement. To be honest I was expecting something akin to this eventually happening if I were to take anything from Ilunor’s entire schtick. But to have an entire gang coming down on me with the intensity and competitiveness of a gold medal finalist in the field of mental gymnastics was something I just wasn’t ready for.

“You guys aren’t even going to try a Hello, maybe even a Hi, welcome to the neighborhood?” I managed out with an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, we reserve that for our fellow lords and ladies, it’s customary for commoners to greet their betters, not the other way around.” The bat spoke with a heavy series of twitters. “But I do not hold it against you, newrealmer. If you have yet to have developed a civilization capable enough of understanding the principles of the perpetual regime, then how can I cast judgment? Why, I would be no better than a common fool yelling at a stray mutt for its lack of obedience training. Ignorance can only be tempered by knowledge and education, and I along with the rest of my peers, are more than willing to be the avatars of an enlightened nobility.”

I took a series of careful, controlled, breaths.

In, and out.

In, and out.

My anger and frustration wouldn’t overtake me, and it wouldn’t ruin my mission on day two.

I weighed my options carefully, my mind running through every possible scenario as I decided on a diplomatic way out of this quagmire, only to have yet another alarm beep at me.

This time, it was something much more important.

“Alert. Priority Notice: INFIL-DRONE01 signal detected. Status: returning to designated point-of-origin. Reason for premature mission abortion: calculated risk of compromised status beyond maximum acceptable threshold.”

“Let’s double-time it back to the dorms.” I turned to both Thacea and Thalmin without any hesitation.

With a nod of affirmation between the three of us, we took off back to the dorms in a hurried sprint, leaving the crowd of enlightened nobles in the dust. “Hmmph, so not only are we dealing with a lowly commoner, but a coward as well. At least she knows not to challenge her natural betters.” Was all I heard before the audio-sensors cut off as we turned the corner.

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Front Door. Local Time: 1020 Hours.

If true AI wasn’t a taboo, and if the drone could actually think, I could imagine it’d be screaming down the halls with how eager it was to show me everything it’d discovered.

Upon arrival at the dorms we were met with the dragonfly like drone actively crawling underneath the door frame. It wasn’t long however as I arrived that it backtracked and flew right towards me, on a flight-path that would’ve made a younger version of me scream in disgust, but that elicited nothing from me now other than a quick flinch from my buried yet still latent entomophobia.

Much to the horror of my peers, the drone quickly crawled and shimmied its way into one of my many utility pouches. After which, it made a wired connection with the suit proper. The data-transfer that occurred concurrently with the recharge of the drone was near-instantaneous. Wired connections were, even after all these years, the preferable, quickest, and most reliable means of information transfer after all.

“Emma. Let’s get inside before we add whisperer of arachnids into your list of titles.” Thalmin urged as he opened the door and led all of us inside.

Upon entry into the room, I immediately made a b-line for the couch, promptly downloaded all of the files onto my data-tab, and had Thacea blot out the world using her whole noise privacy shield spell thing.

It didn’t take long before the relevant files were played, the video fast-forwarding until it slowed down to normal speed just as the apprentice arrived on scene into what I could only describe was a room, or what was left of it.

The scene that I was faced with was nothing short of a disaster. The room, if it could still be called that, was a mess of pockmarked holes and molten rock. The lights within flickered every few seconds in a manner almost eerily reminiscent of the fluorescent lights of old. What should have been the Academy’s signature gaudy tables, chairs, and various other appointed articles of limited practical use were either smashed, cleaved cleanly, or in some way mutilated beyond their original state.

Yet despite the whole room looking as if it’d just gone through an active warzone, akin to a scene straight out of the war-docs from New Terra, no one seemed to really mind. Indeed, the devastation wrought upon it was almost immediately reverted as soon as the drone’s cameras laid eyes on it. Those pockmarked holes oozing with magma and molten rock? They all but hardened and solidified over the course of a few short seconds. The flickering lights from the unseen light-emmitting-crystals? They’d stabilized moments after that. The furnishings that had been wrecked seemingly beyond repair? Well, those seemed to have just… pulled themselves together. Literally. From the tables crushed beyond recognition to the chairs whose upholstery had all but been strewn across the floors, whatever scrap, shard, or splinter belonged to the item in question had simply been pulled back to whatever the largest piece of it remained, before it just put itself back together.

The camera quickly panned over to scan several of the figures present within the far edge of the room. Several faces were isolated and successfully cross-referenced using the tablet’s database. Mal’tory, Vanavan, the red robed and white robed professors, and strangely enough, a bear-like figure with a face obscured by shadow, dressed in a heavy leather cloak with a distinct broach resembling three-paws affixed to its high collar.

Eventually, as the dust finally settled, and the incoherent chatter of voices within the room droned out into discernible, distinct voices that the drone could effectively isolate, so too did another familiar object make itself known once more. As in the middle of the entire room, having previously been obscured by the dust, debris, and steam hissing from the molten lava-pit of a floor, was a plinth. And upon that plinth, was the book from the binding ritual, currently open to a page with the names of all of the students from the night prior.

A strange implement was attached firmly to the book. It looked like someone had taken a bear-trap and clamped it onto either side of it, then attached one of those two-axis gantries, and bracketed it horizontally to one side of the page. Further, it looked like a magnifying glass affixed to it highlighting small patches of text within the book.

Zooming in closer towards the strange device, a name could just about be made out, as the camera held still and stabilized on that half-hearted attempt at cursive.

Emma Booker.