Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

My eyes remained transfixed on what was left of the watery goop that was once the null, as it continued to seep deeper and deeper into the porous cracks within the Earth.

Out of sight.

But not out of mind.

“EVI, replay combat footage log 1, isolate instance: last weapons discharge to target neutralization. Maximum frame rate, footage playback speed point one.”

I kept replaying the scene. Trying to determine if I’d done it correctly. Trying to see if the thing was actually dead. Rewinding and analyzing those tentative few seconds over and over and over again.

Those last few milliseconds just as the bullet hit was as remarkably clear as it was frustratingly inconclusive.The bullet had struck the core, it had made impact, but because of the digital artifacting due to the dust, debris, and latent mana in the air, it wasn’t clear where the core fragments went.

Everything within me refused to believe the battle was over. Every fiber of every muscle within my body remained as tensed as they were when I’d pulled the trigger.

Why’d it have to be an amorphous, magic-derived, monster? Why couldn’t it be an elf, a petting-zoo-person, or some normal fricking creature.

If it had been anything but the former, I could’ve at least had some proof that the whole affair was over, as grisly as it might’ve been.

With the way things went down, I couldn’t bring myself to believe the null was actually dead.

It was literally right there one moment, and then gone the next.

All of this just didn’t feel real.

Everything just felt so detached and disconnected.

As it stood, I was stuck in this gray in-between.

I was unable to move forward, my thoughts and anxieties fixated on registering a positive ID on my first kill, whilst both time and circumstances demanded that I just pressed on.

I knew, there was no other option on the table but to keep pressing the offensive.

It was just really fricking hard to do.

“Charlie Mike.” I spoke under a hushed strained breath within the confines of my helmet, addressing no one but myself.

There was another elephant in the room that needed to be addressed now. Another unexpected development that necessitated that the soldier stepped back, so that the diplomat could once more come to the forefront.

All of this was difficult enough to manage on its own, but when you added the vivid realities of battle still ringing in my head, it just became that much more challenging.

But a challenge was exactly what I signed up for right?

“This your first taste of combat I reckon?” The groundskeeper’s voice suddenly broke through my mind’s haze, quickly following up his previous question with something completely unexpected. His tone of voice had shifted drastically from that questioning inquisitiveness to one with a decidedly more compassionate warmth.

That followup question stumped me, especially given my prior interactions with the faculty and staff up to this point.

“I don’t get how that’s-”

“I can smell the unease from the color of your voice.” The giant interjected before I could fully get my thoughts out. His choice of descriptors was confusing, but I got the gist of it anyway. “I’m not a mindreader, just so we’re clear. I’m not going to act like I can make sense of the messy affair you’re clearly embroiled in. But this isn’t my first adventure either. So I can tell that this is the first time you’ve bloodied your sword.” He paused, before gesturing towards my holstered sidearm. “Or, well, whatever comparable saying goes for that artifice.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny-”

The giant started to shift his weight forwards, which caused me to pause right in the middle of my hastily drawn up response, just long enough for him to continue making his point; disregarding my words altogether. “Don’t think you can worm your way out of this one, young knight. I’m a stubborn old man, a giant to boot. And despite your strength and resolve I doubt even you can move mountains as heavy as my stubbornness. Many have tried, only a select few have succeeded.” The man made a point to crouch down so that he could meet me at eye-level. “It would be shameful of me to treat a knight following her first battle, with the inquisitorial malice of a Judge-Executor. As much as these old bones are rattling to know more of the plots and schemes you and the apprentice are most certainly wrapped up in, I would be remiss in my honor and old oaths to place even more unnecessary burdens upon your shoulders.” There was an undeniable authenticity to that voice, one that was wrapped up in the wrinkled features of a venerable giant. “I do not claim to be anyone but a humble groundskeeper, young one. My age speaks naught of my titles. I am not your superior, your better, your tutor, or any other title gilded in gold and ivory. With all of that being said, you may be wondering to yourself, why even converse with an old man with nothing to his name. And to answer that, I say, nothing. You are under no obligation to answer my questions, or to even converse with me for that matter.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly, then gestured towards Thacea and Thalmin. “Those two would know, Nexus etiquette and whatnot.”

He would’ve rattled on, if it wasn’t for my sudden interruption.

“You’re right, I don’t have an obligation to talk to you.” I stated plain and simple.

This clearly sent a message to the giant, his face shifting to one of solemn acceptance. A look that was, quite worryingly, something that seemed to come naturally to him.

“But let’s play ball anyways.” I quickly with a dry chuckle, making sure the giant realized that the previous statement was made out of jest.

His face said it all, a look of shock, confusion, and preemptive disbelief dominating most of his worn features. “I beg your pardon-?”

“Just as you’re setting expectations and ground rules, so am I. I understand that the Nexus works in ways that it sees fit. However, as you can tell by my newrealmer proclivities, I’m decidedly not yet accustomed to such ways.” I spoke with a sly wink. “So with that out of the way, let’s look past the… what did you call it? Titles gilded in gold and ivory?” I parroted back, my features pushing out a confident face despite no one being able to see it, and despite the post-combat anxieties still stirring within me.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, didn't I? Aye.” The giant replied with a renewed vigor in his features.

There was something different about this guy. Something that was far removed from the bickering, posturing, and politicking of the faculty. And whilst I wasn’t willing to fully entrust a complete unknown factor just yet, I was willing to try to bridge the gap, to at least gain some sort of a foothold in the form of connections within the otherwise unassailable institution that was the Academy. Even if it was ‘just’ a groundskeeper. Grassroots diplomacy, and winning over hearts and minds, was something that was also covered in my training after all.

“So, let’s talk. Starting from the top.” I outstretched my right hand, which I just realized had been practically glued to my sidearm throughout this entire conversation. “I’m Cadet Emma Booker, United Nations Armed Forces.” I kept it brief, though part of me did want to try flexing the whole Patron of the Library title I now apparently held.

The giant responded not with a shake of my hand as I’d expected, but instead, by moving in further in order to grip deep into the upper third of my forearm; intertwining both of our arms tightly and pulling forward. His face practically beamed with excitement, as if this whole gesture was some callback to some nostalgic past. “Alaton, Groundskeeper of the Transgracian Academy.” He kept it simple, which was a relief given the rapidly-forming repository of titles the EVI was constantly keeping tabs on.

Speaking of the EVI’s ever expanding library of names, the groundskeeper’s introduction was decidedly lacking in a first name. The systems having logged his first name as Tiven, taken from the apprentice’s back and forth with him just ten minutes earlier.

“I assume Alaton is your last name then?” I asked politely.

“No, it is my first name.”

“Ah, it’s just, I heard the apprentice referring to you by another name-”

“That name was my last name. I no longer have the privilege to use it.” He spoke without much fanfare, unlocking our arms as soon as that awkward exchange had concluded.

“I apologize for bringing that up if that’s-”

“It’s quite alright. It gets brought up in conversations from time to time, but I no longer mind.” The giant interjected with a reassuring smile.

I knew that the old man would’ve gone on a new tangent, or a whole other tirade if I didn’t step in direct the flow of the conversation. So I did.

It was around that same time that I took stock of the countdown timer permanently affixed to the top right hand corner of my HUD. Which quickly revealed that we had just under 55 hours left. We were still on the clock, and with the null situation tentatively sorted, or so I hoped… my primary focus once more shifted to that of the crate situation.

“I’m afraid I’m on a bit of a tight schedule here, Alaton. So I’d rather keep it brief. We have a whole year for pleasantries after all so-”

Crunch

I felt my whole body tense as all of my faculties, and my entire attention, was drawn to the source of that noise. I felt my right hand moving on its own towards the gun, out of muscle memory, and not out of the suit’s insistence. It took a few seconds for me to realize however, that the sound wasn’t that of an actual threat. It wasn’t the prelude to a round two with the null. All it had been, as my side-facing cameras would reveal to me, was the dislodging and subsequent fall of one of the many rocks over the freshly formed crevices.

There was no triggering of the threat alert system logged.

The minimum threshold for the threat assessment system had not been reached.

I was just-

“Are you feeling alright, Emma?” I heard a familiar voice piercing through my mind’s sudden haze. My eyes finally strayed away from the tactical overlay, and back towards the source of that voice. I didn’t need to look over to see who it was, however, as I felt the soft feathers rubbing up against my hand through the haptic feedback of my suit.

“I’m fine.” I managed out with a half-hearted confidence. “I’m alright, don’t worry about it.” I reaffirmed. Partly to reassure my two peers, and partly to convince myself that everything was actually fine.

The giant, to his credit, remained patient as he stepped back to give me some space. He didn’t interject, didn’t go off on another tangent, and simply remained crouched waiting for me to continue my end of the conversation.

I decided to continue as if nothing had happened.

“So, considering we have an entire year to talk, I think it’d be better just to get to the meat of things. Alaton, please do not take this the wrong way, I really do mean this when I say that I am sorry for what happened to the Apprentice.” I quickly prefaced what was to be a rather jarring topic of conversation, making sure that my sympathies and concern were made known for the record. “However, the matter with which we were here to discuss has not yet concluded, and the fact remains that the apprentice is the only person I can talk to in order to achieve some form of a proper resolution to a problem that is… a real and serious one. One that could result in bodily harm if left without my intervention.” I explained, skirting around the finer details of the crate, its contents, and everything else that might’ve been too sensitive to discuss with an as-of-yet unknown player. Although the fact that I’d added bodily harm into the explanation was a bit of a gamble. If this were anything like what universities were like back on Earth, I doubt that would’ve really slipped by.

The giant nodded along throughout the entire preamble so far, not once shrinking away at the mention of the danger I was so readily discussing. “Ah. Am I to assume that this… undefined threat is part of the business you had with the apprentice?” The man concluded. Which more or less brought us back full circle to his original question.

“That is correct.” I answered simply, not adding any further details. The giant, to his credit, didn’t press the matter further. Very much honoring the promises he’d set forth earlier.

“Alright… and I’m assuming you’re about to ask for my assistance in arranging a meeting with the apprentice post-haste? Despite her grievous injuries, in spite of her obvious pain and suffering, and in light of her having risked her life for you?” The man shot back, his voice rising in intensity with each passing word.

I held my ground, remaining firm and resolute even as the giant’s emotions seemed to flair up for the first time.

“That was what I was leading to, yes.” I spoke plainly.

The man let out a sharp exhale, before smirking, as he placed both hands on those massive crouched knees of his. “Alright. Must be some damn important issue then if you’re gonna be that insistent.” The giant had seemingly abandoned that rising intensity, which led me to believe that the whole show of defensiveness was merely a test of my resolve. “I’m not sure how healing works in your world, young knight. However, the Academy is nothing if not proficient at what it touts, the healing arts included. You should expect the apprentice to be sufficiently healed enough to talk by the early hours of the next dawn.”

“And can you help me arrange an audience with her-”

“I’ve told you, haven't I? I am but a simple groundskeeper. The castle’s interior grounds, especially the healing center, are not places which I can tread without ample reason.” The man interrupted, before sharply transitioning into his next point. “Besides, you still have your point of personal privilege that has yet to be resolved do you not? That’s reason enough to visit her in the eyes of the Academy, as injured as she may be.”

I nodded a few times following this, gathering my thoughts and plotting out a plan of action, if only to be rudely interrupted not by more of the giant’s words but by a sharp uptick in mana radiation.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 450% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

However, instead of any danger, or the arrival of anyone new to the scene, or even a return of the null, this burst of mana radiation turned out to be signaling the start to something else entirely.

The blackened ground was healing, a fresh layer of grass began covering it in a matter of seconds. The once open crevices had also begun to close up, followed by the replanting of trees and the return of the garden to its original state.

With the only parties present being the likes of Thacea, Thalmin, and myself, it was clear who was responsible for this, as the groundskeeper stood up, and began observing handiwork.

A million thoughts entered my head all at once. Everything I learned about this reality, at least as it pertained to the exclusivity of magic, was all put into question by this one act.

“Alaton, I thought magic was something only the nobility could use?” I asked.

“Aye, that is generally how it goes, yes.” He answered cryptically.

“Then are you-”

“I claim to be nothing but a humble groundskeeper, young knight. Now, I believe this is as good a time as any to retire for the evening.”

That line of questioning was clearly hitting a brick wall, then again, this wasn’t the time or place to pursue tangential concerns.

“Thank you, for all your help thus far, Alaton.” I corrected my course, which was received by a single appreciative nod from the groundskeeper. “I am sorry for what happened to the apprentice. This entire situation wasn’t something that I think any of us could’ve anticipated.”

The irony in that statement was not lost on me.

The man acknowledged my efforts at consolation with a weaker nod, which I interpreted as our cue to leave.

So, without any further words exchanged, we departed. Upon exiting the immediate ‘bubble’ surrounding the apprentice’s hideaway, I was shocked to see that practically nothing had changed. What should’ve been something reminiscent of a warzone instead looked just as pristine as the moment I’d entered it. Whatever illusionary spell had been cast here, had completely hidden away the collateral damage caused by the fight and anything else within its area of effect. Which led me to the unnerving conclusion that the entire fight had more than likely been completely hidden from the public eye, as from the outside, all there was to see was but an unassuming part of a greater expanse of hedge mazes and shrubbery.

The drone that had been automatically placed on standby mode prior to my entry into the apprentice’s hideaway had registered my return the moment I’d left it. Without any prompting, it zipped back over to me, before aggressively shoving itself back into its anchor point with a loud metallic CLUNK. This seemed to bother my avian and lupine friends to such an extent that they refused to address it. Though their bewildered expressions were definitely more than enough for me to work with.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to Dragon’s Heart Tower Dormitories. Local Time: 1600 Hours.

The trip back to the dorms was a quiet, almost peaceful affair. Not one of us broke the silence, instead allowing the ambiance of the Academy to take over, and in doing so hammering home just how alive this place actually was.

As our journey from the library to the gardens had proven, these storied halls of ancient stone and marble were probably just as animated as they were the day they were first laid. From students of varying year groups walking about, to the occasional run-ins with familiar faces cataloged and put to storage by the suit’s visual identifier, the halls never once felt empty. Which helped the situation somewhat as it allowed my mind some much needed distractions in the form of visual stimuli, to ease it down from a state of hyperacute alertness.

It was difficult to imagine that just moments ago, just a few hundred feet from these halls, that a life and death struggle with a near mythical creature had just taken place.

And all were none the wiser as to its very existence.

To say that thought was jarring wouldn’t even cut it.

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 1620 Hours.

I never thought I’d say this, but upon returning to the dorms, I immediately felt a sense of relief washing over me. It was like we’d just entered a small private bubble, a respite from all of the Academy’s bullshit. Indeed, as much as the library was definitely on the top of my priority list when it came to a potential second home base, the dorms just felt like a more solid base of operations.

It could just be the vibes.

It could also be because I’d already set up my FOB here. Along with all of the various systems and subsystems necessary to keep me alive.

Yeah, that more than likely played a contributing factor, more so than the vibes.

The late afternoon had long since passed, now transitioning into a sort of evening twilight, bathing most of the ‘living room’ in this brilliant display of soft autumnal oranges. The view offered by the dorms from this vantage point was nothing short of breathtaking, giving me more of those 90th district penthouse vibes, as the stunning view offered an uncompromising vista of what was effectively nothing but forests and rolling hills in every possible direction. It was rare to find a place on Earth that could capture this sort of feeling, a strange dichotomy of modern high-rise views of what was ostensibly an untouched nature reserve. The 90th district came to mind however, being just on the edges of a particularly anomalous corner of the Acela Corridor. Trapped between four jurisdictions, and with overlapping zones of control, it was a rare slice of the city, jutting into the suburbs, then emerging on the other side on the very outer reaches of zonable land. As a result, it became the only little slice of downtown with all of its views and amenities, overlooking part of the greater North Eastern nature reserves.

I’d visited the district before. In fact, any Acelan local worth their mettle would’ve made the pilgrimage at least once in their lives. There really wasn’t any reason not to, given how the rapid rail service got you in and out of there in less than half an hour.

Regardless, the view from the Academy did remind me of that, and it was honestly a little slice of beauty in what was so far a stress-ridden reality.

“-and the lizard isn’t even back yet. How typical of him.” I heard Thalmin finishing some long winded rant, probably in regards to the absence of a certain blue Vunerian.

It was clear that I zoned out for a bit there, as I now found myself in the midst of a conversation I didn’t recall hearing the start of.

“We should touch base with Ilunor when he returns. It is important that the entire peer group is on the same page with regards to our current… dare I say it, questline.” Thacea sighed with a level of frustration that I very much could relate to at this point in time.

“That’s a good way of putting it, Princess. We’ve since departed from this being a series of disconnected little plots, and for better or for worse, entered the realm of active questing. That fight with the null being the point of no return.” Thalmin nodded several times over, with a clear level of excitement that Thacea seemed visually peeved at. “Speaking of Emma, you feeling alright there?” Thalmin now shifted the direction of the conversation back to me, as his tone transitioned to one of concern. A sentiment likewise mirrored by Thacea.

“Emma, please know that if you wish to recuperate and rest your wings, that you are free to do so.” The princess spoke with a softening of her striking gaze.

“We can both keep watch if you wish to rotate out for a few hours, Emma.” Thalmin reiterated this general sentiment of support with a cocksure grin. “We’ll make certain you’re watched over.”

There was a genuine kindness and compassion there that should’ve taken me by surprise, but at this point, felt increasingly more like a natural extension of our rapidly forming alliance. There was a comfort in their reassurances, as the solo-mission narrative I’d been training for and internalizing had always given me pause as to not only my ability to cope with the social ramifications of isolation, but likewise the security concerns that also came with it.

The chances for survival and success fell squarely on me and my equipment when I came through that portal. With things the way they were, with threats and complications cropping up and scaling in both frequency and intensity, the pressure had undeniably begun to stack. Whilst I could withstand it alone, it would be a lie to say that having allies willing to share some of that burden wasn’t welcome. In fact, it was nothing short of a godsend.

“Thanks guys.” I turned to face the pair with a relieved, thankful expression underneath my helmet. Not even the armor could dampen that very human sentiment, that feeling of relief and security brought on by being amongst friends. Humanity has, and always will be, a species that thrives on social cooperation. Collective security being one of the many perks of teamwork and trust. It just so happens that now, for the first time ever, that social cooperation has transcended the species boundary. “But I don’t think now is the time for rest. I’m still on the clock for the weapons inspection, not to mention the whole crate situation.” I admitted with a resolute sigh.

Thacea seemed to have something to add to this, something to perhaps reiterate her support. However, before she could even chirp out a word, Thalmin unceremoniously butted in with his own little agenda.

“Speaking of that weapons inspection…” Thalmin interjected, perhaps too eagerly coming hot off the heels of concern for my well being. “Seeing as you’re still adamant about seeing your rotation through…” His eyes shifted towards my hip, landing on my sidearm as his tail slowly but surely began to wag from side to side. “Could you please give us a little preview of that inspection?” The eagerness in his voice was off the charts now, as I moved about in place and once again palmed my pistol.

“I guess that’s only fair.” I acquiesced. “Ask away, cowboy.”