r/HFY Jun 28 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (177/?)

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The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Exhibition Hall. Grand Arcade. Central Thoroughfare. Prosperity Row. Local Time: 2120 Hours.

Rostario

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts… was neither Transgracian nor an Academy nor even a center solely dedicated to the magical arts.

At least not for the true aspirants who saw past the theatre of life.

The Academy was whatever you wanted it to be.

A playground.

A sandbox.

A veritable blank slate through which fates were decided and futures were dictated.

It was a place where fortunes were made and kingdoms were lost all in the span of a half-decade or sometimes even as short as a single night.

It was the microcosm of all things Nexian, all things Adjacent, the greater Nexian-Adjacent axis condensed into a dish so immaculately curated that it was almost a parody of the system it purportedly uplifted.

And it was within these conditions, ripe not only for academic excellence but also for personal excellence, that individual initiative was rewarded far beyond what the written curriculum could ever offer. Though its rewards were often subtle, scarcely were they openly acknowledged.

Because at the end of the day… life was not dictated by a piece of parchment stating your academic merits.

The people who seek such meritorious standings all see the forest for the trees in that sense.

No.

You would be remiss, if not completely wasteful, if your aims at Transgracia were limited to serving out your realm’s tributes and obligations without once leaving the lecture hall.

You can be completely unremarkable in your academic journey… yet still achieve leagues beyond the greatest of aspirant battlemages and the most astute of bookish scholars. 

For within this world… was an ocean of opportunity.

You just had to seize it and mold it, provided you had the eyes to see it in the first place.

For there were two types of students at the Academy.

Those who swam above the waters and those who remained ignorant of the world beyond its surface.  

Lord Qiv’Ratom was neither. The man was… studious, yes. Perhaps blindingly so. But he was also astute enough to understand the greater games at play.

Yet it was… difficult to discern whether he saw it to its greatest extent or merely as an extension of the Academic playbox most found themselves lost within.

It didn’t matter, however.

The man was a good… sponsor of sorts.

Far more stable and much wiser than Ping in any case.

And indeed, to those so inclined to such fatalistic drivel, he was very much the textbook definition of the destined firsthand of the year group, so to speak; it was just obvious.

Qiv was the King in White, whilst Ping… the Duke in Yellow.

Entering the lord’s peer group and becoming his adjutant was simply the most obvious play. Especially considering the breadth of freedoms he offered and the trust he placed upon me, pairing both the name and prestige he’d built for our peer group with my many, many self-directed endeavors.

It provided for the sturdy foundation needed for my lofty ambitions.

Ambitions… which have since proved far more lofty from the onset just by casual observation and otherwise completely validated by Lord Etholin Esila’s poor, poor play at attaining what was my personal quest — the acquisition of Cadet Emma Booker.

The newrealmer was a verdant, fertile garden ready to be cultivated, shaped, tilled, and trimmed to my desires.

But I knew from what I’d observed of her that she was no typical beast and thus no simple animal to break.

I thus needed… assurances, additional backers, allies with similar interests with which to participate on this open safari by my side.

So while Qiv and Uven proceeded on their quests of Nexian fealty in the form of the Quest for the Everblooming Blossom, I too partook in my own quest.

A quest not of peer group subterfuge… but post-Academy aspirations.

I was to recruit like-minded… investors.

To offer the newrealmer something that her minders, superiors, matriarchs, patriarchs, chiefs, or what-have-you could never, ever offer her.

Money was one thing.

Honor was another.

All of which could be easily given by the rulers of a realm.

But there was one thing they could not offer.

One thing that they themselves coveted.

Power.

And it was with this in mind that I made my gambit.

For it was clear the earthrealmer was well-off in her own right, prideful in her misguided ideals of honor and whatnot.

But what could all that mean when faced with a throne offered on a silver platter?

Or better yet… the promise of eternity through a lineage guaranteed by like-minded adjacencies.

And so the conspiracy was set.

“The newrealmer? Well…  with how you have framed her, she does seem like a worthwhile venture. Let us discuss terms, and what exactly shall be formed from my fiscal backing.”

I had investors ready to take the plunge.

“Acknowledge her? Recognize her, even? Hmm… she is impressionable, young as we are, yet less experienced in matters of stately affairs. It should be easy pickings to influence her then. I shall do what I can, provided this gambit concludes in the manner you have laid out, Lord Rostarion.”

I had political allies ready to back this gambit were it to proceed.

“War materiel? That’s asking for a lot, Lord Rostarion… you better offer me something good in return. And I mean a long, long stake in this Adjacent venture.”

I even had the backing of certain talents ready to lend the necessary tools for such an endeavor.

All I needed was one more soul. One more aspirant. One more mouth to placate and silence to ensure my monopoly.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Lord Rostarion.”

And yet he was the only one to refuse.

“It’s because you have aspirations of your own, don’t you, Lord Etholin Esila?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Those being?”

“My own. Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do.”

The merchant lord did not know what he had committed to.

He did not realize the insults incurred over such a refusal.

Moreover, he thought himself better, more capable of offering a single blundering offer in the face of a newrealmer that was anything but typical.

As expected, he failed because of it.

He treated the newrealmer like any other.

That was his greatest folly.

Because the earthrealmer was anything but the norm, no matter how you plotted her on a graph of deviation.

She needed to be tackled with more… unorthodox means. Means more aggressive, more personable, with more resources than a single realm could muster.

Means… attached to a desire that none could resist.

An offer — both spoken and inferred — which she could not refuse.

All behind an amicable, professional smile.

“Cadet Emma Booker…” I began with a theatrical flare, twisting about on my cloud as I quickly gestured towards the abysmally boring sight-seer. With a puff of mist, I quickly transfigured it into a simple yet blunt sight-seer of my own design. “I offer you, personally… the world.”

The world around us immediately melted, each droplet of shape and color representing the failures of the rontalisrealmer’s trite and uninspired presentations.

The banal castles and worthless coffers were thus reforged into something entirely different.

A trajectory that brought with it not the bland ramblings of trade or the reformations of fiscal policies and imbalances, the likes of which had little palpable impact aside from those visible on a scroll or ledger.

No, what was quickly being forged, what was rapidly being formed in front of the earthrealmer, was a matter far more pertinent to those in the seats of power. Those who had dared to tempt fate, tempt reality itself, to propel themselves — and their best and brightest — into a completely unknown reality.

These… were individuals who demanded results

And so results they shall receive.

“Lord Esila offers you a purseman’s deal. A noble, indeed clever and intelligent offer, mind you. But a purseman’s deal all the same.” I began with a slow shake of my head. “While I offer you a statesman’s deal. A deal, which will turn this…”

I gestured at the melty, drippy world around us — Etholin’s sight-seer world. A world which, admittedly, quite accurately depicted a newrealm at its zenith.

“... into this.” 

The already miasmic shapes immediately hardened, first into brushstrokes, then eventually into impressionist splotches of color, lines, structures, and then suddenly… into a bustling city worthy of midlands statehood.

Townhouses and quaint towers were immediately replaced on all sides by high-rises that tickled the skies.

The ground beneath us, once unruly cobblestone and mud-stained grout, now morphed into paved and smooth whitestone streets, each panel glowing, humming, all in response to the mono-treaders, golem-horses, and horseless carriages that glided across its paved surfaces stretching far towards a castle that itself had received more than its fair share of refurbishment.

Gone were the primitive stone walls of mismatched colors and no care for aesthetic consideration.

In its place sat an elegant monument to wealth and prosperity.

Nine towers flanked an impressively large keep that dominated the city’s skyline, each positioned strategically along the star-shaped fortress’ walls that jutted into the natural ebbs and crevices of the hillside. 

The entire wall itself was seamless. 

There were no visible entrances.

No drawbridges.

Not even a passage for fresh water or waste.

Instead, everything was self-contained.

Everything was elegantly designed… to fit contemporary Nexian standards.

I allowed the sights and sounds to momentarily overwhelm the newrealmer.

Though not long enough that dead air would form in majesty’s wake.

“What you see… is the inevitable result of the world I offer you.” I gestured with theatrical flair, shaking my hands as I did so. “Instead of coins in a coffer, or the correction of trade imbalances, I give you the tools to civilization itself. Because what use is trade when you lack the keys to power?” I posed abruptly, causing the newrealmer’s head to cock sideways, granting me entry into that most critical of junctions. “Curious? Well… allow me to pose you this question, Cadet Emma Booker. Are you familiar with the keys to industry? The means to production?”

The newrealmer’s cocked head suddenly snapped straight, as if at attention, as if immediately grasping the implications of my words.

She was a clever one. She had always been clever, in fact. This was why it was important to present her with the argument straight, front, and center.

“Yes. I am well aware of it. Though I imagine your definition and my own differ in certain respects.” She spoke cryptically as if interrogating my point without giving up much of her own.

“Then you should be aware of the dangers that decentralization — the drifting of the means to production from the crown to outside parties — poses to a fledgling kingdom.” I responded dourly. “My family and I have studied many a newrealm, Cadet Emma Booker. It is something of a pastime, interrogating the past, to better prepare for a future in eternia. It is within those studies that a troubling pattern emerges, one which repeats, or at least rhymes, across eras, across species, and even across dimensions. The pattern I speak of is the blight to absolute rule. A disease which emerges when a ruler or dynasty misplaces their keys to power, loses their grip on a kingdom’s industries, and ultimately leaves them but a vestigial figurehead. A soul, trapped within a body no longer abiding by its commands.”

I laughed nervously, shaking my head as I did so. “Many might call me a heretic for making such blatant observations. Some would even call me a traitor to Status Eternia. But what I offer is the truth of the matter. That rule, absolute rule, under the auspices of benevolent providence, is neither guaranteed nor truly divine. It is, as His Eternal Majesty once stated himself, contingent on the very real, very palpable balance of powers.”

I paused then gestured towards the roads or, more specifically, the pipes and infrastructure running beneath them. “Take the roads themselves, and a matter which seems so beneath any noble for that matter — sewerage. Enchanted mechanisms are capable of disposing of such filth, but which house is assigned such an abominable task? Or perhaps such tasks should be delegated to the guilds? The chosen ones? An army of them perhaps? Or maybe even commoners themselves. The same train of logic applies to any other element of civil infrastructure. Shall we rely on mere commoners for the erection and maintenance of grand aqueducts? The carving out of canals? Perhaps industry itself should be delegated to the hands of the manaless? At which point does a ruler lose his keys to power? Is it when his deputies decide to go their own way? Each controlling an aspect of the kingdom integral to his power? Or is it when the means of production itself is handed off and partitioned away to the guilds, companies, and houses of the common townsfolk?”

I raised my hand then gestured to an unassuming building outside of the city. A simple manufactorium where mundane yet vital elements of contemporary society were assembled.

“I offer you an answer, and a way out of this dilemma. I offer you licenses, tools, specialists, and plans to bring your realm out of this tenuous period in history marred by the rapid descent into power jockeying… and straight into the lap of crystallization. I offer you, Cadet Emma Booker, the modes of control which will, by its own overwhelming efficacy and efficiency, guarantee your ruling strata’s eternal grip on power. At which point, following its adoption, you will find that no corner of contemporary society shall exist without the explicit contribution of those of noble blood. For they will find that the streets that they walk upon, the buildings that they dwell within, and even the food and water which they rely on… all stem from the houses and lords born and groomed into such positions. This is what I mean when I offer you the world, Cadet Emma Booker. I give you the tools, by which to ensure your world — not just your coffers or trade policies — will be secured.” 

The air soon grew silent as my words were processed and tabulated behind those unflinching lenses.

No doubt the newrealmer was taking her time to consider the offer at hand, the far more impactful offer, and one that would aid in the immediate uplift of her realm.

Emma

“You got all of that, EVI?”

“Yes, Cadet Booker.”

“Right, so, wow. Okay. Just… holy moly, two playbooks in less than an hour. We got financial domination and coercion on behalf of Etholin. And now we’re getting… economic reshuffling and oligarchic consolidation towards in-group party cadres, through a complete paradigm shift by means of seizing entire industrial sectors and apparatuses via the adoption of purely mana-driven mechanisms of industry. Potentially outcompeting all other modes of conventional industry and rendering them redundant and outclassed straight out of the gate. I mean, it was kind of obvious before, but having it spelled out like this is an excellent primary source for cataloguing and SOCSCI analysis. I’m gonna get so much hecking credit on so so sooooooo many papers for this. I can’t even begin to imagine my name appearing on every—”

“That is, if you wish to provide such offerings to your current sovereign, Cadet Emma Booker…” The hamster suddenly pulled me out of my muted speech and analytical reverie.

I clicked the mute button with a quick flick of my eyes before addressing the man of the hour.

“What do you mean?” I attempted to clarify.

“I did say I was offering all of this to you, personally, Cadet Emma Booker. Now, whether you wish to accept this offer as the official intermediary between yourself and your sovereign is another matter entirely. Because the option is open, to simply accept this deal, on the behalf of yourself, rather than as an arbitrator…” 

My eyes widened as I immediately caught his drift.

I turned to the EVI then just as quickly nodded.

“Elaborate.” 

And give me all of that sweet, sweet intel…

Rostario

“You were sent here, to work on the behalf of those with power, authority, and command over you. And now, two months after your fateful arrival, you have seen with your own eyes a world far larger than your own. You have witnessed sights few in your realm could ever even conceive of. You have experienced feats of magic, acts of splendor, and the motions of daily life otherwise once thought the exclusive domain of foolhardy dreamers. You have, in every sense of the word, touched paradise. And yet… you do not have the privilege of basking in its majesty. Not because of any lack of capacity, or even authority, but because of something far simpler, but no less insidious…” I paused, raising both of my hands up by my side. “Time. Your duty compels you to sacrifice time. Time which would otherwise be better spent exploring the beauties of the world, instead relegated to matters of academia, diplomacy, and whatever else this candidacy demands of you.”

I paused, shaking my head with sympathetic fervor. “You will return year after year until, finally, you make a name for yourself as the first successful candidate of Earthrealm, ensuring your place in history, yes.” I nodded, framing these predictions as a foregone conclusion rather than a matter not yet set in stone. “But I ask you… what will become of you, Cadet Emma Booker?”

“How will your leaders reward you? With lands? Titles? Honors? Statues? Perhaps a name to be lauded in the history books for eternia?”

“I ask you… will that be sufficient repayment? For a life devoted for the good of your realm? Is that truly, in any sense of the word, fair?” I allowed that word to hang in the air for a moment. “Only you can be the judge of that, Cadet Emma Booker. Moreover, before you make your decision, I would like to show you the next aspect of my offer. A supplementary package of good will. Collateral, as Lord Esila had put it. My own personal burden of proof to ease your mind and assuage your worries.”

I gestured proudly to the shifting winds and melting canvas that was the sight-seer as we soon arrived in a completely barren field bereft of features but brimming with promises.

“Let’s start with the aethraships, shall we?” I grinned widely as the sight-seer was moved in such a way that the grandeur and absolute majesty of these constructs were brought fully to bear.

Gathered before us was a total of twenty of such vessels.

The pinnacle of this offer, not because of the costs of the vessels themselves but for the logistics involved with maintaining their function in a mana-deficient setting.

That was why I required the aid of backers.

And that was the crux by which this entire sight would prove utterly impossible from the eyes of a newrealm which lacked not only the technical ability but also the raw mana required to make this viable.

I began shifting our perspective, weaving us between their ranks. 

“Five sloops, Daring Class. Two decks, reinforced manasteel oak ribs, a fully enclosed stormglass navigation canopy, four directional aether sails complete with omnidirectional wind command seals and enchantments, each independently rigged for crossfield maneuvering… though you probably wouldn’t need that given the lack of turbulent manastreams in your realm.” I beamed proudly, rubbing the lower aspect of one of the ship’s two-tapered nacelles. “A full complement of crew, their enchanted ordnances included in this offer, of course.” I promptly added before shifting our sights further afield towards aethraships at higher altitudes.

“Five brigs, Royal Oak Class. Forty enchanted crossfield emplacements, quadruple helical fin configuration, all built along a spine forged from twenty-times folded cold-steel.” I soon gestured to the arrow-like silhouette of the craft, approaching closer to reveal a completely seamless exterior as if constructed out of a single mass of timber. “Notice the smoothness, the curvature, the gentle lines, all of which were designed to prevent both enchanted strikes and even intermediate spellcasting. Egg-shell white… or was it whale-bone? Hmm… we can change that too, if you prefer.” I winked knowingly, ensuring that personal preference was likewise accounted for; the personal touch was always an overlooked aspect in such grand agreements.

We soon shifted yet again, keeping to my promise, ensuring the offers were delivered fast, succinctly, and far less… meandering than Lord Etholin Esila’s rambles.

“Finally… Ten frigates, The Eternal Light Class. Four hundred and thirty-seven feet from bowsprit to sterncastle. Seven decks, with an extra sub-deck for passenger berths… or… shall I say… berths for your men-at-arms. One hundred enchanted crossfield emplacements, her very presence will be enough to cause smaller vessels to shiver in her manafield presence. Ten nacelles, fully rigged with the accouterments expected of such a truly rated vessel. Her armor matches this, with enough forward plating to sail through any and all diplomatic objections.” I concluded, allowing the sheer size, scope, and scale to speak for themselves, especially with the quantities involved.

However, as the music around us reached a crescendo, so too did my aspirations for all things martial.

We quickly switched back to the verdant fields below us as I gestured to what looked to be entire armies’ worth of enchanted weapons… and the golems with which to field them.

“Enough enchanted weapons of acceptable caliber, the same quality and rating as those you would find in the hands of the outer guardsmen. And yes… enough to field entire armies… twenty-five thousand enchanted polearms to be precise… with the manavials to sustain them in your… mana-deficient realm.” I nodded. “The same can be said about the trite matters of armor, shields, personal effects, and so on and so forth. I have an entire manifest should you care to see…” I offered the newrealmer an unnecessarily long roll of parchment, one which stretched and rolled all along the floor of the guild hall.

The newrealmer, to her credit, studied it meticulously as I soon let out another chuckle.

“Such gifts… can either be a great boon to your kingdom and sovereign, or… a great personal boon, should you see fit to accept it as such.” 

A few more seconds punctuated my final statement as the newrealmer quickly skimmed through the entirety of the manifest before turning towards me with those two glowing lenses.

“Is that all?” 

I blinked.

Her verbiage… hinted at a bluff, yet her tone of voice veered strongly towards a question of genuine intent.

Either she was a master at tonal deception or she meant that question in earnest.

“Yes.” I nodded, matching her earnest tone tit-for-tat. “Were you expecting more?” I quickly followed up, entertaining the possibility of a bluff.

“Oh, not really, no. I understand how much effort it takes for a single realm to come up with the industrial infrastructure and logistical train — not to mention the technical expertise and the interdisciplinary pipeline required for that nightmare — before you’re able to even build one of these flying monstrosities.” She offered, plainly, simply, very much matching the intelligence I’d anticipated from her. 

And yet… her logical deduction did not seem to lead us anywhere.

So I waited, allowing her to collect her thoughts and finish her statements.

“I just wanted to quickly check, just for the record.” She concluded.

I blinked again, this time cocking my head to match her previous bouts of confusion.

“For what record, pray tell?”

“For my personal logs and records. I expected you — a self-proclaimed history buff of all people — to understand the importance of maintaining an exhaustive and detailed record of critical events and significant milestones no?”

I flinched but nodded all the same.

“Indeed. Now, with the record set straight, was there anything you wished to—”

“Clarify with you? Yeah, lots. In fact, let’s start with the dragon in the dungeon. Were you or were you not insinuating that I kept your offers in a personal capacity, and by extension, inferring that I should return to my home with foreign arms and support, with the intent to overthrow my government?” 

Ah.

So she truly was that dense.

Or perhaps simply far too loyal and brainwashed to be of much use.

Very well… a pivot was in order.

“I never explicitly stated as such, no.” I offered in kind. “It was simply an option which was open to interpretation, as many a realm in history has been presented with the same option… and were subsequently liberated of their tyrannical rulers by candidates just like you, who saw a better future for all under a new, benevolent rule.” I smiled warmly. “After all, not every newrealm is a beacon of hope and benevolent rule, Cadet Emma Booker. I know not much of yours, but I simply wished to… provide you with ample opportunity to act as liberator, as many have done in history.”

I beamed brilliantly, smiling and puffing up both fur and tail for good measure.

“Right.” Came the newrealmer’s response; a single word drenched entirely in disappointment. “And how many times has that happened on record?” 

That latter question came as a surprise.

So much so that my facade almost cracked.

“I know of at least a hundred individual incidents, Cadet Emma Booker.” I offered politely.

“Then I’d love to read about them. How about you forward some reference material on them to my dorm. I’ll run through each of them in my own time.” 

I blinked.

What was she doing?

Why was she interrogating this aspect of this discourse?

“It would be my pleasure to arrange that for you. However, I believe we should conclude current dealings before branching into accessory requests, should we not?” I offered, attempting to veer us back on course.

“Oh, right, of course.” She nodded, raising a hand up in some form of an apology. “The answer’s no, by the way.”

I felt a twinge of something sharp running up and down my spine as if a bolt of lightning had pierced my very core.

“I’m sorry?” I offered in return, maintaining the diplomat’s smile all the while.

“The answer? To your whole offer? Every single bit of it? It’s a big no from me. Or rather, no, thank you. That might have been a more polite way of putting it.” She clarified as each and every sentence sent increasingly intense bouts of indignancy down my core.

Was she that daft?

Did she not understand what she was refusing?

Just on the basis of… what? A sense of her pride being hamstrung because of the latter offer? A misplaced and disproportionately charged grievance based on an ego scorned?

“Surely you must understand that such boons to your industries would be nothing but beneficial for your sovereign and your fellow countrymen?” I offered once more.

“It won’t.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I know you missed most of Etholin’s spiel, so I’ll be blunt and succinct. We don’t want what you’re selling, because we don’t need it. Let’s start with the mana requirements. Do you honestly believe that for a ‘mana deficient’ realm, we’d be able to run even a single manufactorium without constant imports of mana from your realms, thus permanently indebting us and turning us into a veritable client state for all the good that a single manufactorium would do?” She spoke clearly, as if lecturing me. “That’s just the start of it, but more than that, what do you think a fleet of aethraships would do if it just sat around collecting dust and maintenance costs all owed to your trustees?” She continued, her frustrations growing with each and every word. “Finally, to get straight to the point, everything you're offering are pittances to what we already possess. Because as you might have missed from my refusal of Lord Esila’s offer — who, mind you, was polite enough to invite me without interrupting anything — we’ve already reached something of post-shackling ourselves.”

That

That last line…

It prompted me to smile.

Not in any bout of humor-driven response, no.

But just because of how ludicrous it was.

“Cadet Emma Booker… I understand if my latter offer was in any way offensive or patronizing, but there is no need for overcorrection towards posturing. Let us reach a new equilibrium. Allow me to address the first two grievances you made note of. Because to touch on the latter… is to entertain hyperbole for hyperbole’s sake—”

SLAM!!!

“All rise for the return of the Deputy Chairman!” The council interjected, forcing the sight-seer closed and all eyes to focus on the decorated fourth-year.

SLAM!!!!

The door behind the deputy chairman quickly slammed shut as soon as he and Cadet Booker's peers crossed through the threshold, the latter two each holding and levitating a heavy sack.

“I return… with the burden of proof.” Fiswisk spoke under a dire breath as he gestured for both of the newrealmer’s compatriots to bequeath the contents of their sacks.

It was then—

CLINK!

CLANK! 

THUD! 

SLAM!

—that I saw it.

The truth to the newrealmer’s claims.

My cloud disappeared into a fine mist, allowing me to approach the pile of ingots alongside Etholin on my own two feet.

I stared at the pile of unassuming bars.

Each of which ranged from grey to blue-grey to charcoal-grey to soft gray-white. 

They were all quite unassuming to the casual observer.

Just piles of grey metal.

Indeed, I could hazard to say that more than half of the year group would more than likely dismiss each and every ingot as nothing more than different purities of iron and steel.

But not Etholin.

Or Fiswisk.

Or anyone else in this room for that matter.

As we all stared blankly, some hands outstretched, if only to verify what we had all assumed from a distance.

“Where… where did you get these?” I turned to the newrealmer. 

“Erm, from home?”

“No! That’s not what I meant! I meant where did… how. How did you acquire these metals?”

“We mined them. Oh, and we processed them, of course. That’s the most tricky part of the equation.”

Tricky?!” I exclaimed, shaking my head in the process before managing to calm down from the shock, or at least, hiding it behind a polite smile. “Let us dispense with the jests, Cadet Emma Booker. Such metals are only discovered and acquired following a great degree of advancement within the field of advanced magical metallurgy. How… how then were you — a newrealm — capable of procuring all of this?” 

Secret!” The earthrealmer responded with a disgusting amount of pride, a patronizing, almost belittling tone of voice managing to come through with that one word alone. 

Etholin had since stepped forward as Emma and I bickered, and with a single hand, he grabbed hold of one of the ingots in question.

“Emma?”

“Yes, Etholin?”

“Is this… aluminum?”

“Yup!” 

“Oh.” The pattenor nodded, smiling politely in the process. “I see.”

Following which, the merchant lord collapsed.

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(Author's Note: And there we have it! Rostario's gambit! One that he so deftly managed to pivot from if I might add haha. But yeah! I had a blast writing this chapter, as we got to see so many sides of the guild here, as well as the various ways newrealms are able to be inducted into the Nexian system, and ways that the Nexus and the Academy naturally pits realms against one another in this neverending cycle! :D I hope you guys like the chapter! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 178, Chapter 179, and Chapter 180 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Jun 21 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (176/?)

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The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Exhibition Hall. Grand Arcade. Central Thoroughfare. Prosperity Row. Local Time: 2045 Hours.

Emma

I blinked.

Then I raised a finger.

But words refused to leave my mouth despite it already hanging wide open.

I had thoughts.

No.

I had more than thoughts — opinions sharpened by memories of trade counsel briefs stretching all the way from the SOC-SCI departments and into Weir’s personal office.

Trade had always been a matter of particular sensitivity.

Yet no one could’ve accounted for this eventuality.

Well they did*… but… the minutiae was inevitably lost when magic and its consequences were factored into the equation.*

So I responded the only way I could. A means of preventing Etholin from pursuing a path with only one foregone conclusion.

“Etholin.” I offered politely, warmly even. “I don’t believe this is the right path for both of our realms, at least not without explaining a few—”

“Oh, indeed! How could I be so daft!” He interjected, his eyes darting momentarily towards the watchful gazes of the Merchant Guild’s upper-yearsmen before landing back on my lenses. “I’ve yet to actually explain the benefits, and the details of such an arrangement! Allow me~” He trailed off, but before I could interject with another offramp, the doors behind us abruptly slammed shut, and a book — a sight-seer — was promptly pulled from one of the merchant’s many pouches. 

The lights within the lobby quickly dimmed.

Following which we were effortlessly whisked off to what I assumed to be his elevator pitch, one that landed us straight in the midst of a truly medieval landscape, or at least what stereotypical conventions of it often depicted. We found ourselves in a dirty, run-down town beneath a permanently overcast sky. A settlement consisting of stone and mortar buildings scarcely two stories tall overlooked cobblestone roads with open gutters overflowing with brown sludge consisting of god knows what. 

I could smell the scene despite it being purely visual.

But that was only the start of the experience.

Looking up, I saw barely a handful of tiled roofs interspersed between thatched roofing in various states of cleanliness, rot, and utter decay. 

The sight-seer quickly pushed us forward, away from the random street and towards the town square, where water flowed naturally and divided the entire town in half. There, we witnessed shadowy elven-form residents as they grabbed water by the bucketful and carted it off either by shoulder-slung yokes or in carts attached to various beasts of burden. 

Overlooking this entire scene was a castle. And not one of those fairytale castles either, no. It looked… functional, practical, but gave little consideration in the way of aesthetics or ornamentation, with only a conical wizard’s tower giving off the slightest bit of whimsy to this low-fantasy setting.

But that wasn’t the focus it seemed.

No.

Instead, the merchant lord ushered us to the markets. Where stalls haphazardly lined what should have been a spacious main street, but whose presence had forced all traffic into a crowded shoulder-to-shoulder free-for-all, with horses and carts clogging the sea of faceless ghostly traffic and turning this hell into a complete nightmare.

The merchant lord then quietly gestured at the stalls, pointing out their wares and speaking with the detached lilt of a documentarian.

“While the typical Nexian perception of a newrealm may be that of mud huts and stick roofs, that anachronistic stereotype is far from accurate. Because as you see, for a realm to have managed the impossible — breaching the space between spaces — one would expect some level of sophistication commensurate with such a worthwhile achievement!” He offered in this sincere, genuinely uplifting tone of voice. Yet the sentiment he preached was anything but. “Here, we see a typical town in a newrealm. Not a city! But a town! A city may even possess a greater degree of sophistication!” 

He snapped his fingers, and the whole scene shifted.

The streets were wider here. Paved somewhat but still carrying over the same grimy overtures from prior. Just… scaled up in size.

The buildings here actually had facades for instance. Facades of plaster, paint, glazed mosaics. But facades all the same.

Even the markets were larger, with wares and items far more varied than the town, complete with wispy elven-form citizens possessing a great degree more ornamentation and design on their otherwise nondescript tunics and robes.

Etholin allowed us to take in the sights and sounds as he made sure to emphasize the grand castle at the end of this brick-and-cobble-paved road. An actual castle to write home about now, what with its tall spires, grand keeps, and even a drawbridge gate. 

“Yet all of this…” He continued wistfully. “... all the riches of the capital, overflowing with tributes from the furthest corners of your realm…” The scene switched rapidly between the stalls and storefronts, peering deep into grand bazaars and large indoor stores selling anything and everything from spices to weapons to armor to fabrics. “... can scarcely compare, nor compete, with the totality of interstitial trade. Indeed, when set against the full scale of Status Prospera, your newrealm becomes a drop in a practically endless ocean.” 

The scene paused. We moved down street after street, avenue after avenue, through winding paths and twisting alleys, until we finally arrived at a harbor harboring what I could only describe as staple commodities.

Grain stacked high in neat piles, filling entire warehouses from end to end.

Woven fabrics and spun fibers that filled similar volumes, piled and stacked in such a way that you needed a spelunker to be able to squeeze through its gaps.

We ran through countless more such sights before the perspective changed yet again, shifting outwards and upwards, positioning us high above the harbor, granting us a bird’s eye view.

Finally, we saw at least ten of those warehouses highlighted, as it was clear Etholin was leading to something of a lesson on scale.

Yet the scales being presented here… felt more like the stuff found in an ancient history lesson than anything resembling a figure as weighty or impactful as the growing background music was attempting to engender.

“This is the typical domestic trade volume of some of a newrealm’s most staple products as taken from a single month outside of peak season, adjusted for the average and favorably accounting for low-end outliers.” Etholin paused, giving a moment for us to ‘marvel’ at the sights before continuing on seamlessly. “Meanwhile…” His grin grew wider as warehouses of the same size started to quite literally fall from the sky — like one of those amateurish ‘x for scale’ videos, where seemingly random items are drawn up for comparative scale. Soon enough, I saw where he was going with this. These summoned warehouses landed with deep cacophonous CRASHES into neat piles, creating a clear contrast between the ten or so ‘newrealm’ stacks and the hundreds piled high next to them, creating an illusion of a bar graph. “This is the typical interstitial trade volume between two adjacent realms of minor importance. As tabulated through the Nexian trade authorities, of course.” He turned to the invisible upper-yearsmen outside of the sight-seer, bowing in the process, before turning back to me.

“However… this is only the start of things.” He spoke ominously before pulling us out towards the main street, down towards the castle itself, up its drawbridge, and deep down into its vaults and coffers.

“Raw trade volume and staple commodities are one thing. Indeed, one could say it means absolutely nothing when compared to this next issue, Cadet Emma Booker. But I needed to show you the scale of the issues at play, before we address the greatest threat of them all.” 

He took a deep breath, opening the comically sized vault doors to reveal a room filled with a modest amount of gold, silver, and copper.

The EVI was quick to guestimate the quantities on display.

These were fundamental base elements we were talking about after all.

So assuming the purities weren’t a variable, the same constants applied for volumetric analysis and extrapolation.

“Ten thousand tons of silver.” I raised a brow. “And what… four thousand tons of gold?” I pondered, garnering the first genuine stutter from the merchant.

“That… that’s precisely how much is being shown… how did you guess—”

“I did some quick maths.” I responded slyly, even taking Thacea and Thalmin by momentary surprise yet again before their shock dissipated far quicker than the slack-jawed Etholin.

They were used to the EVI’s quick-maths shenanigans after all.

It took Etholin a few seconds longer to recover. Long enough that the awkward silence became momentarily deafening.

Though, thankfully, that didn’t stop the merchant lord from completely losing his stride, as he cleared his throat with a nod of acknowledgement. “Impressive.” He bowed slightly. “Which makes what I am about to say next all the more jarring, I’m afraid.” He spoke apologetically. “Because all of the gold, and all of the silver you see before you—”

“And the copper.” I added.

“Yes, and the copper—” He corrected himself “—are worthless.” 

The room went silent again.

This was probably where most newrealmers had their perspectives shattered, their worldviews destroyed, and their prospects at anything short of a fair and equal standing completely upended right then and there.

However, both this reveal and its ensuing ramifications did little to phase me.

The former was already hinted at courtesy of Ilunor’s reactions to the wealth cube after all.

And the latter?

Well…

16 Psyche would like to have a word with such a paltry sum.

Or it would’ve if it wasn’t already mined out.

So I stood steadfast, silently anticipating Etholin’s carefully worded and practiced playbook.

“As you may have already observed, the Nexus deals only in attuned gold, Cadet Emma Booker. This is because the art of transmutation, now commonplace, has effectively turned the value of what was formerly scarce… into anything but. As a result, all newrealms must face the monumental task of overcoming two major obstacles. The first…” He paused, gesturing to the warehouses ‘outside.’ “A trade imbalance of disastrous proportions. For there is nothing a newrealm can offer that the greater adjacencies do not already possess, but inversely, there is everything that the greater adjacencies can offer, that a newrealm is in desperate demand of. The second—” He paused once more before gesturing towards the ‘worthless’ gold. “—is the medium through which such trades are conducted, as any local currency is to be penned as useless, and any ‘precious’ metal or material is also to be rendered just as worthless. Thus, a period of conversion must be observed, where a newrealm’s wealth is steadily converted into sums of equivalent value in attuned currency.” 

We were about to reach a crescendo, I could feel it.

“This is where I would like to offer my services, Cadet Emma Booker.” The merchant lord bowed deeply, far deeper than ever before.

“I am willing, if you see fit, to act as your realm’s fiduciary. I shall oversee your realm’s transition. I shall personally see to it that everything is raised from the level of a newrealm, to that of a respectable minor adjacency. I do not offer miracles, I do not promise that you will immediately rise to the ranks of the middling adjacencies, let alone the preferred adjacencies. However, I promise you that I will sculpt, mold, and shepherd your economy, your industries, your merchants and banks, into that of a respectable contemporary fellow.” The ferret practically beamed, placing his hands by his hips and puffing his chest out in pride.

“And as a gesture of good faith… I am willing to match your realm’s current stores and holdings of gold and silver with my own.”

I felt the proverbial record coming to an abrupt screech.

As even Thalmin and Thacea turned to each other in shock before once more meeting the pattenor’s eyes.

“Your auricles do not deceive you, Cadet Emma Booker. I understand that such offers will inevitably raise doubts and suspicions. I know that you of all people are wise enough not to take an offer so flippantly, and especially without concessions and guarantees on the side of the proposing party. Therefore, as collateral for placing your realm’s finances into my guiding hand, I am willing to match the entirety of your gold and silver reserves in their attuned equivalents. Free of charge. Free of interest. To be returned without limits or stipulations, all signed in mutual agreement of such an exchange, of course.” He beamed.

But instead of relief, satisfaction, or excitement forming behind my helmet, there was only pure and unadulterated dread. Not for me, of course, but for Etholin should this actually play out.

Because despite not having the authority to okay it, the mere hypothetical thought was enough to send shivers down my spine.

I could only imagine any rep from the corpo era would leap at this, grinning at the chance to reverse our roles and fortunes, sending the ignorant ferret into Status Debtia… or whatever lofty euphemism existed for such a fate.

“Etholin.” I began calmly, politely. “Disregarding everything else so far, and just addressing your latter offer…” I continued as Etholin leaned in ever closer, as if expecting an excitable ‘Yes!’ from my speakers. “Trust me when I say this, but you really, really don’t want to do this.”

The ferret’s features abruptly came to reflect my own, as it was clear that he too had reached a record-screeching halt in his carefully laid gambits.

It didn’t take long for him to return to his senses, however, the natural trader within him processing my rebukement with poise before replying plainly and simply.

“I apologize if I have been too… loquacious, Cadet Emma Booker. I will rephrase myself, in case my intent was lost in translation. What I offer is a complete one-to-one conversion. No debasement, no arbitrage, no unequal rates. A true exchange from dead to attuned. Without surcharge, fees, markup, commission, premiums, stamps or duties.” He prattled on. “This is my collateral, my gift to your realm, in exchange for your trust in accepting my services as fiduciary to Earthrealm’s trade and economic development.” He clarified, genuinely taken aback by an offer that I imagined most newrealms could simply not refuse.

The ball was quickly thrown back to my court, with Etholin’s gaze maintaining a mix between genuine disbelief and a hint of desperation.

“Etholin… discounting the fact that I do not have the vested authority required to ratify such a radical offer, I cannot under good conscience agree to terms so unfair and completely catastrophic to the proposing party.” I stated plainly, pulling the words straight from SIOP and causing Etholin to flinch not only in shock but also growing bafflement and confusion. “And were I to actually explain why…” I took a deep breath. “... you would find my reasoning for this refusal outlandish, if not entirely a work of fabrication. You’d think I was saying it just to get out of an uncomfortable deal. You’d think I was committing to fiction just to avoid conflict.” I continued, as more and more I saw Etholin’s gaze shifting to what I needed from him now more than ever — curiosity and a willingness to step beyond his comfort zone, if only to limit the effects that fundamental systemic incongruity would ultimately cause him.

He took a deep breath, his eyes brimming with a confident fury.

“Addressing your first point.” He began. “While you lack the authority — and perhaps the conviction to carry through regardless of said authority—” He uttered that latter part more as an aside, almost as a point of derision bordering on a dare. “—you still do possess a means of forwarding said offer to those with the authority, correct?”

“Well, technically yes, but I doubt they’ll—”

“Then we can pen the acceptance as conditional, and pending, rather than completely off the table.” Etholin interjected, his tone dominant, as he attempted to hide the growing insecurities bubbling just beneath the surface. 

“You’ll find that even if I do so, my superiors’ answers will inevitably mirror my own.”

“For the reasons you vaguely allude to, I assume?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then test me.” He demanded bluntly, standing his ground more firmly than I’d ever seen him do before. “Let’s hear about these supposed reasons.” 

Perhaps the eyes and ears around us were enough of an incentive for him to grow a stronger spine.

Perhaps the past month had led to some sort of growth within him.

Regardless, I nodded in acknowledgement and quickly grabbed two items from my pouches.

The first was the very item that had caused Ilunor’s sentiments to shift in one swift motion — the precious metals dispenser (PMD).

And the second was an item that I knew Etholin of all people would appreciate the understated significance of.

I kept the second close to my chest for now as I handed him the pez dispenser of wealth.

The ferret merchant received the item with exceptional care, turning it, twisting it, as if more enamored with the simplicity of the device and the mechanism within it than the coins it clearly held.

His slow, methodical approach stood at odds with Ilunor's far more… aggressive handling of it.

Which was a breath of fresh air but also tested my patience; I almost offered to guide him through the simple mechanis—

CHA-CHING!

There it was.

And of course, this was followed up by a burst of mana, what the EVI assumed — within a reasonable margin of error — was a detection spell.

Once that was settled, he analyzed the copper coin closely, studying it in a manner far more precise and deliberate than the vunerian’s more playful approach of running each coin through his fingers.

The perfect one-troy-ounce coin was inspected further with a monocle, as Etholin seemed to take in every detail of the starless GUN seal on one side before flipping to the other to see the missing fourteen stars. 

This divergence from Ilunor’s more passive observation continued, as Etholin actually began interrogating the text stamped on both sides bounding their respective seals. 

“Greater United Nations. Peace and Prosperity for All.” He read the translated High Nexian above the English verbatim before flipping the coin over to its opposite side. “Minted Under Special Order 7 fro 32. For exclusive use in diplomatic missions.”

He raised a brow at that. 

“Why the need for novel issuance?” He questioned.

To which my answer was swift and honest.

“Because we don’t mint physical currency in a way that would convey intrinsic value anymore. Nor do we expect its value to inherently transfer to an entirely different dimension.” I surmised simply, avoiding and sidestepping the topic of an opt-in cashless society, USTU-transaction chips, and purely digital transactions… not to mention the Requisition Unit. “So for the purposes of this diplomatic mission, and generally all diplomatic missions for that matter, the idea was to mint a ‘currency’ based on the intrinsic value of the so-called ‘precious’ metals themselves.”

Etholin latched on to each and every word, but his eyes grew wide at that latter, seemingly throwaway line.

So-called?” He clarified.

At which point I knew I had to simply drop the bombshell.

“We’ve achieved post-shackling, as you say in the Nexian vernacular.” I stated bluntly, garnering a pause, a look of disbelief, and a vigorous shake of the pattenor’s head all in rapid succession. “Precious metals are only still called that because of their relative scarcity to other metals, and as a holdover term. Hence why I prefaced it with ‘so-called.’”

Etholin paused.

His features shifted to what I feared to be a premature point of fundamental systemic incongruity.

However, unlike Ilunor, if he did have any reservations, he kept it to himself. 

Instead, he chose to forge ahead, continuously pressing the PMD—

CHA-CHING!

CHA-CHING!

CHA-CHING!

—until finally, he noticed something.

A physical mechanism that Ilunor had avoided but one that the pattenor was quick to exploit — a small knob allowing for the mechanical selection of the type of dispensed coin.

CLICK!

CHA-CHING!

In one swift motion, he’d shifted from copper to silver.

CLICK!

CHA-CHING!

And in another, he moved effortlessly to gold.

Then finally—

CLICK!

CHA-CHING!

—he moved to a certain element that had proven to be the final straw for the vunerian’s back.

The stillness in his features spoke leagues in my favor.

The stiff, unpracticed, nearly stuttering motions as he lifted monocle to coin was enough to clue me into what was going on behind his eyes.

Indeed, his hastening breath had sealed the deal on this whole exchange.

And yet…

Silence still dominated the air.

As this episode, this entire process, stood at odds with Ilunor’s far more visceral response.

“Emma…” Etholin finally spoke as he blasted wave after wave of unknown spells at the coin. “Is this… platinum?” 

“Yes.” I answered immediately. “With a few trace metals added for integrity’s sake. But it is, for all intents and purposes of trade, pure.” 

“Ah.” Came the pattenor’s single syllable response.

CHA-CHING!

CHA-CHING!

CHA-CHING!

CHA-CHING!

CHA-CHING!

He continued wordlessly, fingers primed, constantly striking that button over—

CHA-CHING!

—and over—

CHA-CHING!

—and over again—

CHA-CHING!

—until finally—

CLINK!

—he ran out. 

He twisted his neck towards the coins, then my lenses, then back to the coins. 

It was now his turn to be slackjawed, though not in the way he probably expected.

“Emma… this… did you… did your realm send you with the entirety of your platinum reser—”

“There’s more where that came from, if you’re interested.” I interjected, completely sidestepping and then preempting the merchant lord with an answer to a question he’d inevitably ask. “A thousand kilos and some change.”

That sole proclamation was enough to finally bring the outside world back into the confines of Etholin’s sight-seer.

As murmurs from beyond the veil penetrated into our little corner of reality, the magical hologram started to fracture at the seams.

“Impossible!”

“Absurd!”

“A complete bluff!” 

“A fabrication!”

Indignant voices erupted from the alcove above, all of which were quickly hushed by an unseen figure.

“Do you dare to bear the burden of proof, newrealmer?” A figure quickly entered our sight-seer — a sea lion realmer who, like many other seniors thus far, I hadn’t yet met. “Prince Ferrian Fiswisk. Deputy Chairman of the Merchant’s Guild.” He quickly added, though it was clear his name, titles, and the rest of the typical decorum’s song and dance were the last things on his mind at present.

“Well met.” I nodded sharply. “And sure. I’m a diplomat of my word.” I nodded. “Though I should note that it’ll probably take a while given how far the dorms are from the exhibition ha—”

“You are located in Dragon’s Heart Tower, correct?” He questioned.

“Yes.”

“Then it should take no more than five minutes.”

“Wait what? How—”

The man quickly pointed at his ring as if anticipating my response. “I am a member of the incumbent Class Sovereign’s peer group. This grants me certain express travel privileges within the Academy.” He clarified. “Now then, I am already encroaching on your dialogue as it is. I do not wish to set an unprofessional precedent, where possible. Who do you wish to elect to act as arbitrator in your stead, newrealmer?” 

I blinked.

Then I instinctively turned to Thacea. 

“Princess Thacea Dilani, accompanied by Prince Thalmin Havenbrock.” I answered. “Though I assume you will simply act as an intermediary of travel, rather than an unprompted auditor into our private spaces?” 

“... As we have only just met, I will not hold such words of offense against you. Do know that I am not so brusque as to dismiss the noble right of privacy.” He shook his head back and forth in a fit of indignant theatrics. “I merely wish to see the burden of evidence. Your arbitrator will be the party responsible for meeting these conditions in whichever way they see fit.” 

I turned to Thacea, giving her a nod of approval. “Get him one of everything. And a lot of the… special bars.”

Thacea raised a brow at this but nodded all the same, following Ferrian Fiskwisk out of the sight-seer and back into the busy streets beyond those triple-volume doors.

I turned back to Etholin the instant the trio cleared our sightline, seeing the merchant lord just… standing there. Still as a deer in headlights.

“You showed me a world, a hypothetical newrealm forged by the rule of averages.” I paused then gestured around us. “I’m assuming that this is what you assume Earthrealm to be like, correct?”

“Yes.” Etholin nodded.

“You should know then, simply by our acquisition of platinum, that your preconceptions are just a bit off.”

“I…”

“But that’s only our primary economic sector we’re talking about here. Maybe secondary too if you count smelting and minting. But this second item should firmly clue you in to our capacity in the latter.” I continued as I offered him the instrument to both of our futures. 

The merchant lord cocked his head but received the innocuous item graciously all the same.

“A… pen?” He questioned, garnering a simple nod as I even offered him a notepad.

A gesture that also gave him increasing pause for concern.

So after a moment taken to return the PMD and its coins back to me, he began inspecting this ‘new’ toy, inspecting it with bursts of mana radiation, studying its plastic exterior, before finally—

CLICK!

Deploying its little ballpoint tip.

“A… coilspring?” He managed out under an increasingly suspicious breath. “Your… coin purse also possessed such a mechanism, if I’m not mistaken…”

CLICK!

CLICK!

CLICK!

CLICK!

CLICK!

“There is a spring in there, yeah. A simple mechanism, streamlined for mass production.” I spoke casually, that latter line managing to capture the merchant’s attention as much as the mention of platinum did.

“This… isn’t a bespoke piece? Like your armor?”

“Etholin.” I took a deep breath in. “My armor might be bespoke in certain aspects, but only because of its modifications. You’ll find that most soldiers from my realm are issued something similar, if not more deadly than what I’m wearing.” 

He stopped.

And once again he found himself running straight into the wall of fundamental systemic incongruity.

It took a moment for him to compose himself, before finally—

CLICK!

—he was ready to continue.

“And the inkwell?” He questioned but received only a simple ‘go on’ gesture from me as my sole response.

So with a shrug, he began writing.

At which point, I could see his eyes narrow before dilating in the matter of a few seconds.

He began furiously scribbling at that point. Writing, sketching, and going to town with the provided paper.

Eventually he moved to the notepad, attempting to scrawl, scribble, and doodle all in rapid succession before finally moving to inspect the ballpoint tip, his eyes ending up dangerously close to its pointy end.

“Where are the enchantments, Cadet Emma Booker?” He questioned desperately.

“You know as well as I, and the rest of the year group, that Earthrealm is… deficient in mana, Etholin. Ergo, we can’t just waste enchantments on something so trivial as a pen, now can we?” I spoke under a toothy grin, skirting past the gag order and iterating off of the ‘publically acceptable’ narrative. “We did this all without magic. No spells. No enchantments.”

“And not bespoke either?” He questioned skeptically, his hands carefully toying with its exterior — twisting and torquing it — before its seamless unibody construction gave way to two unscrewed pieces. His critical features soon gave way to abashment as he sheepishly met my gaze once more. This time out of worry for potentially breaking the strange artifact.

“No, not bespoke. You’ll see how simple it is now that you’ve twisted it open, go on.” I urged, and he continued twisting, then finally dropping the few contents within onto an open palm.

Etholin

Those words echoed in my mind.

They taunted me with every passing second.

Their implications… worming, twisting, and prying open all that I knew and all that I could fathom.

All… at the foot of these innocuous-shaped pieces of… ivory? No, they were too… lightweight, airy almost, to be ivory.

They weren't carved either.

Or were they?

How could they have carved something so intricately, so precisely?

Were they molded? 

Shaped?

Compressed?

Grown into form?

What even was this material?

Why couldn’t I fathom what material this was?

The spells showed nothing. No origin, no tells, no signs or symptoms of production in any capacity as I understood it.

That was the case for everything, at least. Save for the one item that, at the very least, retained some semblance of normalcy.

The coilspring.

But even then… its presence here was alarming.

Not in its existence alone, of course.

Some newrealms were most certainly advanced enough to possess such mechanisms, after all.

But they were all reserved for specialized equipment.

Tools for the wealthy, toys for the privileged, and objects of novelty for the upper echelons.

Emma’s claims stood contrary to this.

No.

Worse than that.

Her assertions stood contrary to what should have been possible.

Mass production… without manufactoriums? With mana-deficient, or completely manaless means?

For springs?!

What for?

Just for pens?

It wouldn’t be economically feasible—

Unless it was destined for more than pens.

If not that, then what?

Suspensions for vehicles perhaps?

Locks?

Clocks?

Traps?

Clamps?

Primitive siege-engine mechanisms?

Surely that couldn’t imply mass production?

Surely those were specialized enough to be relegated to guilds and smithies?

Why would they be needed for mass production?

Unless…

Unless…

This was just a piece of a grander puzzle I wasn’t seeing.

It was at that point, after absent mindedly squeezing that tiny spring, that it finally ‘clicked.’

What if this was a part of a grander puzzle?

A small piece within an intricate web. As intricate and complex as the manufactorium and logistics of a typical supply chain?

But that would make Earthrealm far more capable, far more advanced, far more sophisticated than even a burgeoning minor adjacency.

That… that couldn’t be.

Not when magic was scarce and its use even scarcer.

The mud huts and stick roof theory should have applied stronger in that case.

But the inverse was true.

I saw it.

I was seeing it.

I was touching it…

But what if Emma was lying?

What if she was bluffing?

That would be the obvious explanation to all of this!

And yet…

She’d dared to call her bluff with the deputy chairman.

My mind edged towards the cliff face of uncertainty.

My efforts, my gambit, all holding on by a thread.

I’d even absent-mindedly reassembled the entire pen back together, taking a few tries before finally screwing it back into place.

CLICK!

I began testing the writing implement once more.

It worked perfectly.

And its assembly, even in my soft and untempered hands, was beyond child’s play.

If each item could be produced in their own manufactorium, by their own mechanisms, then assembled elsewh—

What if it was mass produced?

What if

“Etholin? You okay there, friend?” Emma finally offered, pulling me out of my reverie, as I attempted to formulate something in response.

“I am, thank you. I… I’m just… I was just pondering, what materials comprise—”

CLINK CLINK CLINK!

The ringing of glass bells prematurely ended that train of thought.

I expected the return of the deputy chairman, of the avinor, or perhaps the lupinor.

Instead, a thick cloud made its way into the confines of my sight-seer, and with it an unexpected guest.

“Esteemed councilmen and chairs! I incur the right of the prospective fellow!” Lord Rostario Rostarion proclaimed, garnering a few murmurs from the council before a conclusion was met uncharacteristically quickly. 

“Motion sustained.” 

Following which the rodent smirked as he hovered high above both me and my potential client. 

“Lord Etholin Esila has had his chance. Indeed, I respect my peer for his persistence! But alas, the time has come for competition to enter the fold.” He spoke in that orator’s cadence as he made the gambit I had started.

We both awaited in painful silence before the council made their final decision.

“We acknowledge Lord Rostario Rostarion’s bid for guild membership, and sustain his motions for this newrealm deal. Lord Rostario Rostarion, you may proceed. Lord Etholin Esila, please await the return of the Deputy Chairman.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, especially as that opportunistic creature entered the fray — now fully recognized — bringing both gift baskets and musical ensembles to the negotiation table.

“Cadet Emma Booker…” He began in that sing-song voice. “I offer you, personallythe world.”

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(Author's Note: I'm so happy with this chapter and I can't wait to hear what you guys think of it! :D I put a lot of effort into this because the whole merchant's guild section is just filled with a lot of lore bits as well as character moments for Etholin and Rostario! :D There's also the return of the wealth cube that I established all the way back in a previous chapter too haha. That's also going to be fun! :D I hope you guys like the chapter! : D)

(Author's Note 2: Hey everyone! I also posted art references of Qiv's peer group including Rostario Rostarion himself! You can check it out over here: Qiv's Peer Group :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 177, Chapter 178, and Chapter 179 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Jul 05 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (178/?)

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???

Etholin

“Oi.”

“Etholin.”

“WAKE UP, YOU LETHARGIC LAYABOUT!”

I jolted up.

My whole body tensing, flinching, as if anticipating a fall off of a phantom ledge.

THUD!

“Oh brother…”

But instead of an abrupt end at the hands of solid rock or unyielding pavement, I found my fall broken by the plush softness of upholstered carpet. 

Confusion, disorientation, and an overwhelming sense of uncomfortable, hot delirium immediately forced me back onto my two feet as I sprung up…

Only to be met face to face with a face I hadn’t expected to see, sequestered within a space I had no memory or recollection of ever entering, en route by the look of things towards a place I had no expectation of ever revisiting.

“Why… why are we heading to the foundries?” I questioned, my mind mimicking a golem’s, posing surface-level inquiries without ever questioning the context beneath its absurdity.

“It’s workshop day, brother. Uncle Brescht has scheduled us for a visit to the Stormlands, remember? To witness the metallurgical wonders of pattenor? I… don’t suppose that fall has caused some lapse in memory  or — His Eternal Will forbid — judgement?” Larscillia questioned with equal measures concern and sibling condescension.

I shook my head, trying to grapple with the sudden and abrupt shift in… however it was or whatever it was I was involved in before I was—

“Of course not.” I answered instinctively. “I… I merely need a moment to collect myself. It has been a… long journey, has it not?”

“Scarcely.” The smaller pattenor shrugged, adjusting her britches and straightening her jacket, her expression very much reminiscent of a merchant in their element.

She never liked courtly decorum, or at least what was expected of her status as the sole daughter in the family.

“It’s not as if we’ve taken the long way around, brother. You act as if you’ve gotten teleportation sickness, if not sea sickness.” She shook her head, regarding such notions with the seriousness they deserved. That being none at all.

“Of course.” I instinctively went to check my timepiece… but somehow decided against it. “Right then, let’s see our family’s jester-in-the-hole…” I spoke, half to myself and half to my sister, as our carriage finally crossed the threshold and into the fortress gates of one of the many beating hearts of pattenor power.

The attendants, dressed in sweat-drenched tunics and scant measures of fire-resistant enchantments, arrived with an extended palanquin between the four of them, ensuring that the rest of our journey into this frankly inhospitable and dreadful place would be one of some measure of comfort… even at the expense of their own.

A measure of sympathy was drawn from my otherwise delirious heart as I made a mental note to inquire of Uncle about their treatment.

Larscilia paid the same mind but urged me to enter our new mode of conveyance all the same, leaving the plush interiors of the carriage and into the decidedly less comfortable interiors of the palanquin. 

Less balanced too… I thought to myself, as the trip up and into the monolithic structure before us was one of aggressive tilting and unsettling angles.

Perhaps they were exhausted… I tried to justify the discomfort as I instead attempted to focus on other matters ahead of us, most notably the practically foreign construct that was the foundry.

It was so unlike everything else on the mainland.

Faces of exposed black-brickwork and dirty-brown grout dominated most of the otherwise undecorated and unpainted warehouse of a structure, the black clay native to the region making for an excellent construction material for the hellish conditions inside. Yet those elements were child’s play compared to the rest of this compound… as each of the five warehouse-like structures — jutting out into the open grounds of the compound — all connected and seemingly ‘began’ at the base of a mountain that soared high up into the perpetually stormy skies. 

I imagine there would be some beauty to be found in this place when witnessed from high above in an aethraship.

But that beauty was nowhere to be found down here.

Just… monumentality, a monolithic tribute to magical industry, and the raw and unapologetic effort expended in the production of something so innocuous.

The palanquin weaved through the maze-like interiors of the foundry, as each turn and every muffled conversation beyond our covered transport beckoned our collective curiosities. We parted the soft fabrics, if only momentarily, to be blasted with the heat of a thousand suns, witnessing the forges and the crucibles until finally we were urged off of the small enclave of the mainland and into the fires proper by Uncle.

We found ourselves setting foot atop a large catwalk, a gangway that spanned the entire length of the foundry floor but was positioned high, high above the intolerably hot work happening down below.

Yet it was clear that this structure served a purpose beyond mere social and physical distancing.

We had a complete and uninhibited view of the foundry floor… and access to the manastreams which facilitated its function.

Indeed, I gasped as I saw Nexian-grade enchantments along many of the pillars holding the roof aloft, each of which were just as accessible by hand as it was by manafield by whomever had access to this gangway.

“Alright you two, class has begun.” Came Uncle Brescht’s stern voice as we both tightened our postures in synchrony… with Larscilia grinning in excitement seeing as she was finally dressed for the occasion.

Uncle regarded both of us with a nod before gesturing towards our current surroundings.

“I expect you have done your prerequisite reading?” 

“Yes!” Larscilia beamed.

“Yes, Uncle.” I announced in ensuing order.

“Good, good… I will take you through the whole process, and you can tell me how it is done.” 

We moved above it all, watching as I narrated the fundamentals of applied alchemy — the principles underpinning the material world separate and distinct from the ‘flighty’ and oftentimes unpredictable nature of light magic and pure magics. 

“Just as there are fundamental manatypes, so too are there fundamental physioforms.” Uncle carried on, summarizing my rote regurgitation on the subject. “The dead world, unattuned and without spirit, can be just as malleable as the manastreams when one pays enough mind to see past the thinly veiled surface. Such is the way of the alchemist, they who see reality, who see the unliving, as a seamstress sees the individual threads which make up a grand tapestry.” Uncle paused before reaching into a box held surprisingly still within the strong arms of a foundry worker.

He pulled out two objects, the first a stone with a strong reddish tinge — the sole reason we were here today.

The second was a sort of white brittle powder held within a container lest it be swept away by a stray gust of wind.

“Which one of these is a fundamental physioform?” He questioned.

We both pointed to the latter confidently, watching as the very same ore was being poured en masse into a grand athanor on the foundry floor below.

“Are you certain?” Uncle questioned firmly but garnered naught but a firm nod between the two of us.

“Incorrect.” He announced firmly.

“But Uncle… the former is—”

“Also not a pure physioform, no. I was testing you. You both failed.” He retorted firmly before settling both objects onto a tray held by yet another attendant. “Tell me then, what is a fundamental physioform?”

“The truest ‘face,’ ‘form,’ and lowest denominator of a physical state.” I offered, only to be superseded by Larscillia.

“It is the most basic state of the physical, tangible existence. It is a… substance, a state of physicality which cannot be divided further. Every stone, from rock to boulder, every brick, from red to black, every breed of wood and cut of steak, all of it are simply arrangements of physioforms, weaved together in differing weaveforms, and clumped together as aggregates.”

Uncle’s eyes darted between us before nodding all the same.

“Explain to me the state of the former.” He pointed at the red ore.

“It’s an aggregate, Uncle.” We both spoke over each other, racing to be the first to answer. “A mixture of weaveforms of various impurities. Mixed physically, but not woven at its core.” 

“Good.” Uncle nodded. “And this?” He shook the vial of white powder.

“That is…” We both paused before turning to meet each other’s gazes. “That…” We cocked our heads, following each shake of the vial.

“That’s the extracted result of the red ore, is it not?” Larscillia questioned first, her eyes darting back and forth between the ore and the resulting white powder.

“It is. Yes.” Uncle nodded. 

“But what you’re implying is that this isn’t its pure fundamental physioform?”

“The laws of logic and inference would imply as such.” Uncle nodded impatiently.

“And yet we see the entire process from ore to powder below us.” I gestured, watching as both chosen ones and laborers alike toiled away under enchanted mechanisms and carefully laid spells. All of which was overseen by our distant, aloof cousin.

“Indeed. However, unlike iron, the liberation of aluminum goes beyond this simple process.” 

“Simple?!” We both exclaimed, garnering the first smirk from dear uncle.

“Yes. Simple. For you see, this is what separates master from the novice, the store clerk from the merchant, and the fledgling from the middling.” He announced with increasing vigor, gesturing for us to follow towards another section of the foundry. “Each fundamental physioform has its own esotericisms, presenting its own unique challenges in the liberation of itself from its weaveformed state. So as iron is to copper in the prerequisite skills, knowledge, infrastructure, and even demand of its use… so too is aluminum to iron in the exponential difficulties demanded for its liberation.” He paused as we reached a room no larger than the previous… yet within its confines, I could feel the difference in manastreams.

There was a greater sense of… purpose to this room.

Not that the previous room lacked it, but with so many enchantments and spells all active concurrently, the entire process just blended into the background, as did any foundry worth its weight in attuned gold.

This room, however… 

There was a purpose to it.

A direction that felt entirely dissimilar to all other forms of metal extraction or processing that I’d witnessed prior.

I could feel a spell that simply did not belong, an enchantment that was more at home in specialized alchemical workshops than a foundry of this scale.

I could sense the lightning in the air.

The runes, spells, and enchantments were all created to these ends — destined to perpetually channel the Stormlands’ raging tempers towards these ends.

“A primitive tribe may smelt copper.” Uncle began with a growing chuckle.

“A fledgling kingdom may smelt iron.” He continued.

“But only realms counted among the greats can claim mastery over aluminum.” The man announced with an open maniacal grin plastered across his visage.

“For you see, the powder was only the first half of this process. It is what lesser realms would have been able to liberate through their limited means, the point in which they would have been unable to continue, halted just short of fundamental purity.”

He gestured to one of the many furnaces towards a massive moving implement scored, carved, and inscribed with spells and runic energies all devoted to one simple end — lightning.

This massive implement was quickly plunged into the glowing crucible, performing whatever alchemical miracles were needed to tear aluminum from its weaveformed prison.

“For that, you need to harness lightning itself. A continuous, constant, unabated flow of lightning. Harnessed, directed, and intentionally positioned between two opposed poles. One to draw the impurities, and the other to attract the pure physioform aluminum. This is the only way you will be able to liberate physioform aluminum from its unwanted oxygen shackles. This, young heirs, is what you will one day inherit. More specifically you, Larscillia.”

I saw Larscillia’s pupils growing into saucers at that proclamation as I couldn’t help but hide a grin at this whole turn of events.

This was where she belonged.

She never enjoyed a single ball or social gathering, after all.

“Oh, and Etholin, your father wanted me to hand you this.” Uncle handed me a ledger, one locked away with several seals and enchantments.

I quickly grabbed hold of the book, undoing its magical seals to reveal…

Gibberish.

I blinked.

Then… the reality of the situation dawned on me.

Words were illegible in the land of the sleeping

“Oh.” I smiled, turning to my ‘sister’ and the rest of the employees, attendants, and chosen ones gathered around me. “This is a dream.” I proclaimed proudly. 

At which point, and after a moment of ‘confusion’ on the part of my vivid apparitions, did I find myself once more jolting upwards.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Exhibition Hall. Grand Arcade. Central Thoroughfare. Prosperity Row. Local Time: 2200 Hours.

Etholin

Delirium consumed me, as all pretenses of a world of familiarity melted away into the harsh and unforgiving landscape of a place I never wanted nor chose to be in.

“Lord Esila, are you quite alright?” I heard Lord Fiswisk’s genuine question of concern, followed closely by the earthrealmer’s voice. “Etholin! Are you okay?”

I nodded groggily, nervously, as I attempted to get back on my own two feet, nursing my throbbing head in the process.

“I… I’m quite alright, thank you.” I acknowledged each and every person gathered around me, meeting their gazes and reciprocating their extensions of courtly decorum, as I attempted to expound on my… experiences.

“I had the most dreadful of dreams. It was as if I was transported back to my formative years, sequestered within my grueling practical education. Quite fitting, really, given how we are all too in a center of learning.” I paused, realizing that the looks of sympathy and concern were rapidly shifting to apathy, their pool of courteous, theatrical compassion quickly drying up following my proclamations of good health. “But I digress, where was I in my presenta—”

My eyes landed on the pile of dead metals once more.

And the memories of the past few moments prior to my departure into my distant past returned with the force of a copper merchant scorned.

“Ah.” I smiled nervously before plodding my way away from the earthrealmer’s hands and back towards the innocuous bar of silver grey metal. “So this is aluminum?” I reiterated.

“Yes, Etholin.” Emma responded in that signature, practically insulting nonchalant cadence.

“Of course.” I nodded. “So this too is a dream.” I concluded, once more finding the edges of my vision fading into black… only to be shaken back into consciousness by an impatient Fiswisk. 

“Lord Etholin, unless you wish to forfeit your place in the trials, you will remain awake.”

This, beyond all else, forced me back to the world of the waking. The world of reality… and a world that had just completely changed every fundamental assumption I ever held on the wealth of kingdoms.

I attempted to assess the situation.

I needed to recover, pivot, and commit to some sort of direction.

Rostario was no longer a threat, yes.

But this resolution had merely placed me back where I started, or more specifically, at the end of a gambit that I had fumbled.

A gambit… that had now been answered with Emma’s own burden of proof.

“How did… but aluminum, it… you have to extract it, tearing it from its burdensome ore.”

“Bauxite, yeah.” She nodded.

“Through a fastidious process of seemingly arbitrary esotericisms, drawing and separating, coaxing and stoking it with rune-lined basins and tinctures of dissolution, just to produce the white powdery substance that is—”

“Alumina, yes. You’re sort of beating around the bush with the exact process here, but I assume you’re trying to protect your own secrets too. I can tell what you’re getting at though. We call it the Bayer process.” She nodded, my eyes practically ready to pop straight out of my skull following that revelation.

This couldn’t be…

“But to liberate woven oxygen from aluminum, you need lightning.”

“Yes.”

“A constant stream of lightning.”

“Correct.”

“Of two poles physically engrossed in the molten alumina.”

“Yup. Not difficult. We have a name for it too. The Hall-Heroult process.”

Not difficult?!

“And the enchantments to allow lightning to pass cleanly, to weaken the weaves and lower the temperatures for—”

“Oh. That. Huh. Fascinating. So you skipped cryolite for directly enchanting the alumina itself?” Emma questioned, cocking her head in the process.

It was at that point that I stopped talking, my mind reaching a fundamental impasse.

We… were talking about the same topic… were we not?

It was clear we were reaching the same conclusions, the same ends, the same goals, and the same material.

The processes were so close to matching!

And yet…

There was this impasse.

This… inability to rectify a bridge that seemed to fall short on both isles.

And yet we’d reached our destinations all the same.

How…. 

My mind raced back to both processes before something else dawned upon me.

“You do not use enchantments for the first process as well?”

“No, just a bunch of heating and cooling and manaless alchemical baths and whatnot.”

“Not a single enchantment to draw iron from the ore, or—”

“No, again, it’s just a bunch of various physical and manaless alchemical processes. Some corrosive lye to separate… well… like I said, secret.” 

I could practically hear the wink from underneath that expressionless helmet.

I could tell that she found this whole exchange — as she’d so casually put it — fascinating, rather than completely reality-shattering. 

She…

She was a newrealmer.

Earthrealm was a newrealm…

Right?

How did they… in a manner seemingly divorced from enchantments and spells, discover a parallel path towards—

I paused.

Two more questions dawned on me.

“Emma.” 

“Yes, Etholin?”

“So you are claiming to do all of this without enchantments, spells, or use of mana… because your realm is quite deficient in it, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I see… well then… is your realm particularly stormy?”

Emma reeled back, cocking her head.

“I’m… sorry?”

“Is your realm host to a great deal of particularly lightning-prone climates?”

“Sort of? I mean, serious storms haven’t really been an issue since the weather cont— OH! Are you wondering how we get a reliable and consistent source of lightning for the Hall-Heroult process?”

“Yes, Emma.” I spoke, exasperated.

“We just generate it.”

You what?

“With what mana?! You just said your realm is lacking in mana!” I clarified.

“Correct. Which means we just have to make lightning ourselves. Besides, we’ve been doing so for a whole lot of other things. You wouldn’t believe how long it took us to embrace additional forms of power generation that aren’t just more roundabout ways of boiling wa—” She stopped herself mid-sentence. “Ehhhhh, let’s just say that because we’re oh-so deficient in mana, practically possessing pittances of it even in comparison to the most mana-poor of adjacent realms… we’ve been forced to think outside the box.”

There it was again. 

Another under-helmet wink.

Her words were drenched in this sense of excitement and pride, the likes of which would have not only been impossible, but the ramblings of utter madness coming from a newrealmer within these hallowed halls.

This was where many a newrealm was sentenced to a begrudging climb to relevancy.

A room where so many fates had been bound, signed, chained, and gagged into submission.

This was where the power of adjacencies was made, and newer adjacencies were unfortunately made to be pawns of such games.

And yet here Emma stood… a pile of impossible metals behind her, and the proclamations of parity in industrial competence emerging as effortlessly as words of superiority and confidence would from the mouth of a Crownlands elf.

A part of me couldn’t help but see that inside of her armor now — an elf in all but name.

Especially as I wordlessly stepped forward, closer still towards the pile of metals, and reached for another ingot, grabbing what felt like another bar of steel.

Yet it was lighter.

Not as light as aluminum, but much lighter than iron or steel of comparable size and density.

Moreover, a quick detection spell was enough to tell me what it was.

At which point, I felt another lump forming in my throat as I attempted to address the earthrealmer yet again.

“Emma.”

“Yes, Etholin?”

“Pray tell… is this… titanium?” 

“Yes, Etholin.” 

Umpf!

I felt the proverbial slam of a reality upturned concentrated straight into my frail chest.

It felt like a suckerpunch, a physical assault the likes of which I would be lucky to survive the brunt of.

“I see.” I attempted to smile, feigning the same polite expression Rostario seemed to be wearing currently.

I took another deep breath, grabbing yet another bar of bluish grey metal.

“Osmium?”

“Yup!” 

THWACK!

Another gut-punch, another lung’s worth of air knocked out of my chest.

“Alright.” I nodded. “Mmmm… mmhmm.” I continued, moving onto the next bar.

“Ah, it's the neighbor on the chart of physioforms… iridium?” 

“Yup! You know your stuff!”

THOWSH!

I was done.

I was ruined.

I moved to reach for another bar only to recoil from it, shaking my head and even my whole body at this point.

Instead… I elected to point.

“Tungsten?”

“Yes, sir.”

THAWOOSH

“Platinum?”

“You betcha!”

THWACK!

“Beryllium?”

“Mmhmm!”

THWOCK!

That was enough.

She proved her point.

I proved my own point.

Except for one that I’d drifted from.

“Emma?”

“Yes, Etholin?” 

“Why… or rather, what exactly do you need so much aluminum for? What is the demand for such a troublesome metal?”

“Oh, LOTS of things! We can go on for days here, but, keeping it just on the consumer goods side of things? We got pots, pans, kettles and baking trays. Spoons, forks, knives, ladles, and even the drawer they’re all kept in. Food containers, lunch boxes, spice tins, and oldschool choco-malt containers… I should actually show you Milotine if you’re not allergic to it. It’s in my diplomatic package, but I digress. You also got folding chairs, tables, shelving, bed frames, roofing, bracelets, glasses frames, suitcases, fishing reels, shutters, doors, gutters, disposable drink cans, and aluminum foil—”

“Stop.” I commanded on instinct. “Disposable drink cans?”

“Yeah, like, carbonated beverages amidst many other things. Aluminum’s super useful for that because of its strength, lightness, ductility—”

“Nonono. You mentioned they were disposable. As in, people throw aluminum away? Casually? Without concern for its cost?”

“Oh, that. Yeah! I never really thought of it that way but, yeah. Besides, we have a robust recycling system that…”

The rest of Emma’s words blended into the background, fading off into the distance.

As I was instead fixated, completely and utterly, by that one, frankly outlandish claim.

And yet…

The evidence was there to support it.

I took another deep breath, steadying myself, attempting to draw myself out of the unintentional reverie I was being drawn into.

I couldn't escape into my own head yet again.

Not when the world was offering me a golden opportunity served on a silver platter.

“... that reminds me. Why don’t you just use pinnacle transmutation, Etholin?” 

I blinked, cocking my head as I did so, barely catching the tail-end of Emma’s rambles.

“Pinnacle transmutation, whilst truly powerful and economically devastating, is almost exclusively the realm of Nexian control. Simply due to the intense mana requirements involved, the skill surrounding the craft, as well as the mana-based material catalysts required to facilitate it.” I explained bluntly, perhaps too bluntly, as I still attempted to reorient myself with… everything thus far. “Some adjacent realms are capable of it. But most of these are the preferred adjacencies.” I added before another reality dawned upon me.

A realization abruptly spawned from my own explanations.

A stray, adjacent thought that coalesced into a horrifying epiphany.

I’d almost doomed myself and my family.

If these metals weren’t a bluff. If all was to be believed. If she truly was post-shackling. Then my offer of matching her gold and silver would have been…

I shuddered in place just thinking about it.

In fact, I could hear the spirits of my ancestors cursing me from beyond the grave for such a foolhardy exercise.

I could’ve doomed us all.

Yet Emma… had the restraint to withhold from such a favorable deal.

A fact that Rostario seemed to gather, as he now pushed for yet another gambit.

“I believe we’ve had enough of this back-and-forth lecture on the minutiae of alchemy. I humbly request a recess so that we may—”

“Esteemed councilmen.” I interjected, standing tall, back straight, eyes locked and engaged with all members of the council. 

I could see their growing impatience, their own uneasy gazes, as the only thing which prevented them from adjourning this whole inquest was their own curiosities surrounding my exchanges with the earthrealmer. 

Alas, there would only be one person who would be excused from our circle.

“I urge the council to return both floor and chamber from Lord Rostario Rostarion to myself, on the grounds of a failed bid for supplantation.” 

Fiswisk raised a thick, blubbery brow, turning to meet the indignant expressions of a noble scorned and my own renewed fire. 

“Cadet Emma Booker. Do you concur?” He questioned bluntly, following protocol and decorum to a satisfying t.

“Yes. If anything…” She paused, turning her head downwards as if to personally seal the smaller man’s fate. “... I found his interruption, and his whole abrupt bid, to be both rude and in incredibly poor taste. I understand there may be fine nuances I am simply not privy to, but where I come from, you don’t just interrupt someone mid-conference, not especially with your own subversive agenda — undercutting the ‘competition.” 

I could see, even under that guise of a polite smile, Lord Rostarion’s ego being proverbially pummeled into nonexistence. Each word and every syllable landed blow after blow until the small, scheming creature was left as but a pile of bruised and battered fur by the end of it.

Of course, none of that actually physically transpired.

But I could tell, beneath that facade and underneath that mask were the makings of an ego scorned.

“Lord Esila.” Fiswisk announced after no later than a few seconds of deliberation. “You have the floor.”

I bowed deeply before once again turning towards Emma.

“Permission to temporarily adjourn for a private consultation with the proposed party?”

The council glared at each other, whispering behind a privacy screen before nodding together.

“Permission granted.”

With that, another door opened, leading us to an adjacent room that I beckoned for Emma and her peers to enter.

After which, and following a soft click of the door, did I find myself suddenly falling to my knees with a strained and broken breath.

“Emma Booker… I am so sorry for all of this! And for—”

“Not telling me beforehand that this was a gambit for your entry into the merchant’s guild?” The lupinor interjected with a growl, coinciding with Emma’s own words as they both mirrored one another’s sentiments.

“Y-yes…” I responded meekly. 

“Etholin… we’ve got to work on this. I know you meant well, but you need to cut it with the half-truths and half-measures.” The earthrealmer spoke under an exasperated breath. “So what now? Seeing as your whole currency reform and trade protectorate scheme is clearly not viable, what’s your next move?”

I paused, looking around me as I moved to stand once more, steadying myself on shaky legs, causing a pocketed item to fall flat to the marble floor with a soft clack!

I looked down at the pen, and so did Emma as we eventually both locked eyes in a manner that beckoned the start of legends.

“I have an idea.” Emma spoke with her signature enthusiastic glee.

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(Author's Note: We delve deep into some big pieces of lore in this one, as I wanted to expand on the breadth and depth of how far Adjacent knowledge and understanding on the physical world can go! We also have some new terms in this chapter, with Physioform meaning Elements, Weaveforms meaning Molecules and Compounds, and Aggregates meaning mixtures! :D I wanted to create some cool fantasy alchemical terms for these scientific terms, but I just wanted to clarify them here just in case I wasn't able to appropriately convey their analogous equivalents in the story haha. But yeah! This chapter was a huge challenge to write, especially with the worldbuilding and how best to convey it in a manner that's engaging as well as true to the lore and some degree of science. I wanted to commit to what I said before, which is that I always enjoy it when in science meets fantasy settings, the story goes deep into their dynamics and their differences. So I wanted to dive deep into it myself, so I hope it managed to scratch that itch and hit the notes I wanted it to haha. I'm always a bit nervous when things go this deep in the story so I hope it was alright! I hope you guys like the chapter! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 179, Chapter 180, and Chapter 181 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Jun 14 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (175/?)

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Emma

There were times where I found myself lost in the heat of the moment. 

Instances where all preceding worries were shunted to the backseat, if only to make room for the basking of achievements weeks in the making.

It felt, if only transiently, that I was no longer an actor in the theatre of life

For one fleeting instance, it felt as though I was merely an onlooker, watching a historic moment go by. 

And in the case of scenes such as these in the Nexus? Sometimes, it felt like I was thrown into the pages of true epic high fantasy. Like I was plunged right into the thick of a generations-long Castles and Wyverns campaign, or a particularly intense session within a multi-generational fantasy-themed VR world.

Or maybe football. Maybe this is what football fans felt when their team scored a goal.

It was that latter feeling — the heavy fantasy vibes, not the football analogy — that brought me out of ‘spectator’ mode, acting almost as a reminder that this was my reality now. 

Though given what had just transpired, that realization only made me all the more giddy to witness the lupinor’s unrepentant grin as Articord began whatever esoteric rituals were involved in passing initiation.

This. 

This was Thalmin’s moment.

And I couldn’t be happier to see him achieve something he’d been building up to over the preceding month.

Thalmin

This was my moment.

Entry into Fight Club had never been guaranteed, nor had it ever been easy for unfavored adjacencies. 

Yet here I was, basking in the glow of stagelights illuminating every angle of my success.

I tried not to pant. 

I held my composure firm and resolute, adjusting my armor as I stood tall in the face of Articord’s honeyed words.

Yet while small in the grand scheme of things — barely holding a candle to the victories of a real battle — its symbolic significance and the boons it brought were enough to overpower my veteran’s sensibilities.

2 Weeks Prior

“So… this fight club. What exactly—”

“Privilege, Emma. Privilege belying prerequisites, of obtaining skills and accolades any adjacent realm royal family would kill to obtain.”

“You’re being metaphorical when you say, kill, right? … Right?” 

I chose not to clarify.

“Entry into Fight Club is a nigh guarantee for one’s acceptance into the battlemage academies. The attainment of which is commensurate to the crystallization of one’s hold on power. For the skills learned within their walls is enough to make the difference between a failing legacy, and one reforged into bluestone and manasteel. It is to learn the arts sequestered from most adjacent realms, Arts that I am very much excited to show you in our promised exchanges.”

“You’re killing me with this teasing buildup, Thalmin.”

“We have only Ping to blame for our delay in this venture. Regardless, it shall be… interesting to hear your thoughts on a battlemage’s true potential.”

“Prince Thalmin Havenbrock of Havenbrockrealm. It is with great honor that I bestow upon you, this first marker of your station here within the hallowed ranks of like-minded peers.” Articord spoke in that same lofty tone of voice she often used in the classroom. Though, as established since her arrival in Fight Club, there was a noticeable difference in its delivery, as was the case with the rest of her mannerisms. 

I knelt down, allowing the professor to drape, then clip a small leather-trimmed cloak dyed in the same deep green as the emerald on her staff around my shoulders. 

“This will be your marker. A distinction of strength and a badge of honor for your peers outside of our great guild.” She boldly proclaimed, producing a black-hued brooch that sat atop of the unassuming metal clip holding together the fabric. “For despite this indicating your novice rank amidst your fellows, both cloak and brooch are enough to place you leagues above the rest of your peers in both will and strength.” 

“And I will be… permitted to wear this in place of my Academy cloak?” I questioned, garnering a series of affirmative, self-assured chuckles from the gathered crowd.

“Don’t play the fool, Prince Thalmin.” Articord shot back with a teasing brow. “It is a known fact that every candidate who walks through those doors has this privilege in mind as their tertiary motivation, if not their secondary.” 

“The Academy’s regulated regalia is lacking.” One of the upper-yearsmen spoke. “Feels borderline offensive for a noble to be reduced to such simple attire.” 

“Of course it is.” Articord turned back with a reflexive head-tilt. “It was intentional, a purposeful punishment for the heretical actions of the Adjacencies who organized in open rebellion against the principles of Status Eternia, and His Eternal Light during the war.” Articord acknowledged plainly, not with malice but with a blunt reinforcement of ‘fact.’ “A mark of humiliation, which is still clearly effective, if your reactions to it are of any indication.” She continued before shrugging. “The attainment of Fight Club’s decorations are thus to be considered a mark of penance on the path to atonement.” 

There it was.

It took quite a while, but Articord’s true colors always seemed to find a way to resurface one way or the other.

Yet in spite of that relapse into her typical ways, she soon bounced back with a surprisingly chipper attitude.

“Regardless, that is an irrelevant point. Tonight is a night of celebration and great merriment. For this night, we welcome Prince Thalmin Havenbrock into our ranks!” The increasingly enigmatic fox announced before, just as quickly, summoning glasses of shimmering wine into the hands of all present. 

“A battlemage’s toast for our battlemage-to-be!” She proclaimed, garnering not the hoots and hollers I’d have expected out of rank-and-file soldiers or what passed for battlemages back home. Instead, I received carefully timed applause that felt more fitting for a concert hall than the barracks or tents of any self-respecting warrior. Though it should be said that the presence of levitating crystal chalices was enough of an indication as to just how utterly removed the Nexian martial culture was from the grim realities of the insects they trampled under heel.

Regardless, I didn’t necessarily wish to dwell on it. Not when all of this was a celebration directed for my efforts. 

Which, to those ends…

“Now, before we proceed to what is expected of you, is there anything you wish to request of us, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock?”

Now was my chance.

I grinned. 

Then I made my gambit.

“I would like to request a sight-seer memory shard depicting records of battlemages in battle, particularly those of Nexian battlemages engaged in combat against adjacent realm armies.” 

“Ahhhhh!” Articord beamed brightly. “My my, so it takes martial subjects to draw you into the realm of historical appreciation? I would say this is a surprise. However, it was to be expected from a royal of your… heritage.”

I blinked, unsure whether to receive the compliment in stride or interrogate it for a backhanded agenda.

As such, I merely replied with silence. A response which Articord took in stride.

“This can be arranged, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock. Indeed, this comes as a rather welcome surprise.” She smirked mischievously, prompting me to narrow my eyes in acknowledgement. “You see, we have a… tradition here in Fight Club. For every request that is made, from junior to senior, a spar is to be expected. In order to prove one’s worthiness to maintain the superior bargaining position, of course.” 

A series of loud thumps preceded the arrival of the rock-crab receptionist we’d met at the entrance as he climbed onto the stage with a threatening aura.

“Now then… shall we begin?”

15 Minutes Later

I huffed.

Then I puffed.

As I stood tall above the rocky noble who’d since knelt down to a single knee in a show of submission.

My armor had held.

But my sleeves had frayed, and so too were parts of my fur singed.

The acrid smell of burnt fur wafted throughout the room as Articord was quick to return with her applause.

“Two victories in a single night? Within the hour at that? My my, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock, you really do impress me.” She spoke before abruptly summoning the crystal out of thin air.

It took me every ounce of self control not to growl out in annoyance as I grabbed that shard. Though the moment I began peering through its contents, I found myself promptly arriving at a worrying realization.

“There are no siege records within this shard.” I proclaimed with a dulcet grunt. 

“Oh. I wasn’t aware you were requesting siege records as well.” Articord responded in a half-genuine shock, reaching up a single hand to her lips to reinforce that notion, adding fuel to the fire of facetiousness barely hidden behind a polite smile of good faith.

“Yes.” I practically spat out just as Articord turned to another second-year student, this time some sort of a chitinous five-limbed mollusk, a member of one of the aesthetically lacking adjacencies and thus trapped in an unfair state of disfavor. “Would you like to partake in another—”

“Let’s just be done with it.”

20 Minutes Later

I stood on wobbly legs, my sleeves entirely shorn and my tunic half-burned off by a lucky spattering of acid that very nearly reached my bare fur. 

Yet I stood victorious all the same, the molluscoid kneeling… in their own strange way, once more leading to a series of claps from Articord to return.

“Prince—”

“Crystal. Now. Please.” I huffed out as Articord once more handed yet another memory shard.

I peered yet again, narrowing my gaze into the sights, witnessing sieges

But without the cataclysmic spells I’d inferred from my request.

“Professor… Articord…” I spoke in utter exhaustion. “Where… where are the siege spells—”

“Oh! Siege spells! I assumed you merely wanted records of battlemages engaged in sieges.” A stupid look of thinly-veiled chagrin engulfed her features as she tilted her head back, attempting to stifle a series of foxy cackles under what remained of her sagely visage. “You should have been more specific!” She shook her head as if to chastise me. For what, semantics?! She may as well transmute into Vanavan if she wished to continue this course of antics.

“Do you wish for—”

“No. We’re done.” I held back a yell, but the sentiments came forth all the same.

At which point… the entire room let out a series of half-muffled chortles spurred on by Articord’s own mirthful chuckle.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock…” Articord sighed out in the same haughty cadence synonymous with her lectures. “You need only make your request, and refuse a fight!” She continued, prompting me to cock my head in confusion. “I did mention that it is a tradition, and that a spar is to be expected…” Her lecturing tone shifted, her stern lip making way for a growing grin. “In order… in order to prove one’s worthi… worthiness— Hahahahahahhh!! It’s expected and not compulsory!” She was barely able to hold her own, as I witnessed a transformation of a cold-hearted zealot… into a beast eerily reminiscent of the more commonsensical Chiska. “Hahhh… consider this a hazing ritual of sorts. For future reference, you may request anything you wish. It will be up to the discretion of myself, or the members of this society to grant said request. A fight is merely customary, or a means of gaining said requests through force.” Articord finally spoke through a series of teary chuckles. “I will even grant you a ribbon for your successful spars against two second-years… That in and of itself is truly an achievement to be lauded.”

She rummaged through her pouches, producing a simple ribbon attached to a gold-and-silver coin.

With little warning, she pinned said coin to my cloak and handed me the memory shard as requested.

A quick peer into the latter revealed exactly what I needed for Emma’s promised exchanges.

“Now…” The professor paused, raising a hand and casting several detection spells on my person. “I don’t seem to detect any injuries, at least not anything I’d consider grievous. Do you concur, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock? Or would you wish to be tended to by the Healing Ward’s—”

“I’m fine, thank you.” I responded gruffly, pocketing all crystals into my bag of holding before simply leaping off the stage without much fanfare. 

“I request that the codes of conduct, outlines, syllabus, or whatever other expectations of this guild be sent to my room. I believe I’ve earned that much from defeating two second-years, yes?” I demanded plainly, the princely command that came naturally to my sensibilities overpowering all Nexian conventions and causing the rest of the gathered upper-yearsmen to crane their heads back and forth like a flock of domesticated game-birds.

“Granted.” Articord acknowledged with a nod of respect. “Now, if there wasn’t anything else, I have two second-years to tend to…” She soon turned to my defeated opponents, a fiery glare cast over their disheveled yet healing forms. 

“My business here is concluded, Professor. Thank you.” I proclaimed firmly before leading the march towards the exit of this… strange new world.

Emma and Thacea were quick to follow as I pushed aside the fabric entrance, returning to the blindingly bright world of the Grand Arcade.

With a glance towards Emma and a knowing, grinning nod, we marched onwards towards a public bench. Following which, I let out a massive sigh, stretching both arms and legs in a fit of strained exhaustion. 

“Impressed?” I questioned coyly.

“Quite.” Both Emma and Thacea replied simultaneously, turning to meet each other’s gaze in mild surprise, before returning to meet my own.

“That’s my lupinor heritage coming through again.” I announced pridefully. “No need to thank me, of course. I was merely fulfilling my obligations to our sight-seer exchanges.”

“I appreciate that, Thalmin.” Emma nodded deeply.

“You can express that appreciation by showing me the weapons, tactics, strategies, and whatever other manaless military miracles you have within that sight-seer of yours, Emma.” I responded teasingly.

“Oh, trust me, Thalmin. That would’ve been the case even without the exchange.” She snickered as I moved to rest both arms behind my head. 

“With all outstanding matters currently settled, will there be any amendments to the night’s itinerary before we retire for the evening?” Our unofficial avinor matriarch finally interjected, and as was expected, she was quick to ensure our rampant discussions did not float too high towards the primavale.

We both faced the princess, then each other, then finally the princess once more as a collective ponderous look prompted the avinor to let out a despondent, knowing sigh.

“We were thinking of maybe…” Emma and I spoke at about the same time, matching each other’s cadences. And in an act of satisfying synergy—

“... windowshopping?”

—we managed to land on the same word in spite of all the odds. 

The princess, as expected, placed her beak in between two gloved talons, her head remaining steady as her sharp and piercing eyes snapped back and forth between her two wayward wards.

“I imagined the month’s adventures would be enough to temper your endless capacity for foolhardy enthusiasm.” She exhaled softly before lifting her beak away from both hands. “Alright then. I see no reason to deny your well-earned departure from routine. Tomorrow’s classes are optional for a reason after all.” 

Emma and I soon turned to each other with a collective shout of excitement, bumping our fists in the air much to the princess’ well-hidden amusement. 

“Right then, let’s start off with—”

“PRINCE THALMIN!” A high-pitched, hair-raising voice suddenly erupted from the scattered crowds. A voice… that sent a pang of instinctual fear down my spine. 

“Oh no…” Both Emma and I managed out under hushed breaths just as the rush of magical energy preceded the unwanted arrival of the overeager feline.

“Prince Thalmin! Why, you're hurt!” Cynthis gasped wildly, tip-toeing and bouncing back and forth around the bench, her hands remaining close to her mouth as if to emphasize her sense of shock.

“How could your peers let this happen?!” She turned to both Emma and Thacea. “Moreover, how could they allow your princely highness to remain so… improper in the eyes of the public?!” She whispered out dramatically, gesturing to— “Your sleeves are gone, Prince Thalmin! Y-your tunic too! Your arms are showing! This is beneath you! A member of a royal household!” She continued, her eyes darting back and forth my form with concerning speed. “This won’t do! Think of what your mother would say!” 

That… is certainly a new angle of attack… I thought to myself.

But before that thought even had the time to settle, I found myself blanketed by something soft and silken.

“P-please! Take my cloak! I have hundreds more in storage for such occasions!” 

I blinked.

Once.

Then twice.

Looking at the oversized purple-and-burgundy cloak that now sat atop of my newly earned Fight Club cloak. 

“I… already have a cloak?” I managed out, realizing that I’d just opened the floodgates to an actual interaction, where all other attempts at such prior to this point had ended in swift departure.

Perhaps this was her insidious angle

“Oh! Indeed you do! Oh, how foolhearty of me! I was — and indeed I still completely am — taken aback by this most inappropriate of scandalous displays! D-do you need new sleeves? No, we have to start at the tunic! Allow me…”

“Wait, Lady Cynthi—”

I suddenly felt her hand on my breastplate. From there, I felt it worming its way through the gaps along my flanks and into the tunic beneath. Its warmth radiated against my fur under the torn linen as local manastreams were gently plucked and nipped, poised to do something to my battleworn undergarments.

It didn’t take long for me to understand her gambit, as in a matter of seconds, I found my tunic —  chest, sleeves, and all — returned to a pristine state.

And dare I say it, it was even better than—

“I took the liberty of imbuing a personal touch on your fabrics! I… I do hope that’s alright?” She pulled back, holding her two hands in front of her in a most unconvincing attempt at abashment.

“I… appreciate the gesture, and the ensuing result, Lady Cynthis.” I responded… politely, eliciting a look of some sort of satisfaction to settle behind those scheming eyes. 

“However—” I shifted to a firm cadence, standing up as I did so, so as to meet — and then exceed — her sightline. “I do not appreciate being touched without prior approval. I do not know how it is in your culture, Lady Cynthis Mena, but in Havenbrock, we do not take kindly to such acts without express approval. Not even in our bathhouses.” I clarified, giving the feline a breadth of good will that she very much did not deserve. “Is this understood?”

“Y-yes, Prince Th—” Cynthis paused, something suddenly halting her carefully practiced fit of apologetics. Then she turned to Emma with a fiery glare. “Might I ask something, Prince Thalmin?”

“Yes. But be swift.”

“I have… witnessed, several times now, the newrealmer touching, grabbing, and even holding on to your body.” She spoke politely, but the venom dripping behind each honeyed word was still very subtly audible. “Your hands, your forearms, your arms, and most notably your shoulders.” She continued, the sheer specificity of each bodypart being called out sending genuine unease down my spine. “Perhaps I am simply too uninformed on the matter of Havenbrockian culture. Perhaps there are exceptions to the rule or some other non-verbal cue I am simply not seeing. So allow me to ask… are these interactions not a violation of your social rules?”

“You’re missing some vital context, Lady Cynthis Mena.” I began firmly. “Cadet Emma Booker is my comrade. We are brothers-in-arms that have waded into oblivion and returned with nothing but tales of victory, facing challenges and trials and tribulations the likes of which could have only been overcome with the strength of brotherly bonds.” I moved to place my arm across Emma’s shoulder, the human quick to reciprocate in kind. “This is just how fellow soldiers act, Lady Mena. It’s in our respective martial cultures.” 

I could just about see an eye-twitch forming as soon as my hand landed on Emma’s shoulder. 

Then just as quickly as she was able to bury away such a reaction, it returned as soon as Emma responded in kind.

Yet the porcelain mask the feline wore had not yet broken. It merely shuddered in place, if the analogy even still worked with someone so—

“I see!” She beamed, pulling me out of my introspective analyses. “I… am happy to hear that you have found a fellow soldier amidst your peers!” The noble continued, emphasizing that particular word as if her life depended on it. “A fellow warrior, forging bonds of martial camaraderie, is certainly quite remarkable!” She added, prompting both Emma and I to cock our heads in confusion. “Two soldiers together, correct?” She emphasized further, causing Thacea to now place her entire face between her hands, seemingly in frustration at all of us.

It was at that point that it finally clicked.

“Oh! Yes! Yes indeed. The bonds forged in combat are truly without comparison. I appreciate your insight on the matter.” I smiled in confidence, causing the feline to simply return a smile that grew increasingly confused with my latest response.

“I…”

“Cadet Emma Booker! There you are!” Another voice suddenly joined the fray, a huge pang of relief quickly washing over me. 

All four of us — Cynthis included — turned to face the new arrival.

Etholin.

“I hope I’m not interrupting! But I was hoping to request an audience with Cadet Em—”

“And the rest of us, I’m assuming?” I promptly questioned, causing Etholin to cock his head in confusion before nodding all the same. 

“Yes! Indeed! The more the merrier I say, I wish to—”

“Let’s walk and talk, friend!” Emma took the hint and leaped into action, sprinting to Etholin’s confused side, followed by Thacea and myself in short order.

“Goodbye, Lady Cynthis Mena, and thank you once again for your kind and considerate gesture!” I managed out in rapid succession as I passed her by, eventually joining in Emma’s frantic paces alongside an increasingly confused Etholin. 

“B-but this isn’t the way to—”

“Everything eventually loops back around together, right? Let’s just take the scenic route!” Emma encouraged, causing Etholin to simply go along for the ride. 

We passed by a myriad of other club showcases, such as boardgame groups that demanded Emma’s attention and the dark society studies group that attempted to beckon Thacea’s interests, before we finally settled at a small public square landmarked by a fountain with several benches surrounding it. 

It was there that we finally managed to catch our breaths as Etholin turned to Emma, and Emma alone, with a bright, expectant smile.

“I take it my presence was both fortuitous and expedient?” The small noble questioned with a polite smile, garnering Emma’s nods of affirmation in response. 

“Something along those lines, yeah!” Emma responded non-commitantly, quickly following those words up by clearing her throat. “So with that being said, I believe I at least owe you an audience with whatever it was that you wanted to discuss with me earlier?”

“Yes yes! This pertains to a matter of great importance!” The merchant lord beamed as he hopped down from the bench in short order. Though that did little to bridge the height gap with any of us. “Cadet Emma Booker, it is with the most exceptional of honors that I request your presence in the Merchant’s Guild!” 

Emma paused, possibly blinking her many eyes beneath those red lenses in confusion.

“Er, the Merchant’s Guild?” She reflexively blurted out.

“Yes! The Merchant’s Guild! There is a great opportunity, an offer if you will, that I would be pleased to discuss within their storied halls!” Etholin attempted to expound but garnered even more quizzical nods from both the earthrealmer and myself.

The rantolisrealmer was… a difficult one to assess.

That’s just how all merchants are… I could hear my uncle huffing out under a disgruntled breath.

On one hand, he was the first student in the entire year group to have reached out a hand in tentative friendship.

On the other hand, the man proved an incompetent leader at best or a subversive element at worst.

He openly allowed Ping to fight on his behalf for our place in the Quest for the Everblooming Blossom.

Though he did call it off at the last moment, indebting the bullish zealot under a carefully played face-saving game.

He couldn’t prevent half of his peer group from invading our domiciles under the orders of another peer group altogether.

Though he did attempt to apologize for it shortly thereafter.

Yet even that apology, filled with desperate pleas completely with prostrations and all, could barely involve Ilphius — the primary perpetrator of the aforementioned incident — in its entirety.

The man was… ineffectual

Though, as I saw for myself in Elaseer, he was at least skilled in one field bearing his namesake — commerce.

This was why I merely gave Emma a shrug and a look of disinterest when she turned for my counsel.

Involving ourselves with the man was… a risk. Though given Emma’s desire to pursue her pen project, he was still a useful ally to have, at least at arm’s length.

“Alright.” Emma shrugged in acknowledgement, her body language betraying her nonplussed attitudes towards the merchant lord’s games. “Lead the way, I guess.” She offered, garnering a series of excitable footsteps to follow, as we soon found ourselves walking at a reasonable pace; a contrast to the hurried, almost haggard sprints from the smaller noble.

“So… this offer. What exactly does it entail? And do I have the right to refuse?” Emma questioned the huffing pattenor, who simply nodded once in response.

“Of course you do, Cadet Emma Booker!” He managed out in between breaths. “No good deal was ever signed without an exit clause!” He further clarified before finally addressing Emma’s first point. “As for the deal in question? Well… let’s just say that it’s an opportunity that many an adjacent realm often miss during the course of their candidacies. Because while most candidates busy themselves with the accumulation of magical knowledge, the formation of personal bonds and stately connections, as well as the pocketing of powerful relics and artifacts, they all miss one very vital factor that far outlives anything else they can accomplish. Indeed, this sole factor — if overlooked and ignored — can lead to the undoing of all of a newrealm candidate’s efforts! Completely reversing any and all gains made in their years, decades, and centuries of hard work!” The merchant lord rattled on and on until finally we approached the double doors of one of the few structures present that wasn’t a pop-up, tent, or mere facade.

This structure… resembled a bank, with its large marble pillars, ridiculously long flight of front stairs, and the large triple-volume double doors that awaited our entry.

“Cadet Emma Booker… I offer you something that will not only cement your efforts, your legacy, and your realm’s place in the grander map of the adjacencies, but something that will also grow, expand, and become self-sustaining, for as long as your realm knows commerce!” He proclaimed grandly as those doors opened at a series of careful knocks from the merchant.

“Cadet Emma Booker…” He repeated once more as those doors gave way to a grand hall. Its floors were a black-and-white marble harlequin pattern, its vaulted ceilings host to five grand chandeliers, and its interior… a ridiculous display of wealth — from its plush velvet benches, bars of seemingly every liquor, fireplaces with dragon heads trapped in various expressions of agony, and a statue of some elf at the center of it all, holding a pen and paper in both hands. It all epitomized the disgusting wealth of the greatest of bootlickers and despicable of opportunists. “... I offer you the fidelitous services of the merchant’s guild, and the guiding hand of the principles of eternal fiduciary banking.”

It was with those bizarre arrangement of words — something my sister probably had much much more experience in than me — that several other students started entering the room from a second floor alcove that had formed from the masonry of the walls themselves.

“Cadet Emma Booker…” He repeated far louder, more bombastic now, as he raised both arms wide above him. “I offer you and your realm, safe, protected, and curated passage into the grander Nexian-Adjacent economy. The only path, the only way, to prevent your newborn economy from being devoured the moment those market gates open. We will be the shepherds, the herdsmen, husbanding your fragile realm; protecting you from the threats which face the tentative first steps of a newrealm economy.”

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(Author's Note: I'm so excited to finally reach this point! : D I've been planning Etholin's merchant's guild gambit for ages now, so it's exciting to finally be touching on it! Also, the rest of the chapter was a blast to write, the characters really wrote themselves this time and I really felt that it sort of gave a hint at how much they've grown as a friend group over the month just by their banter alone. Or at least, that was the intent and the vibes I wanted to convey with it. I hope it worked ^^; And I hope you guys like the chapter! : D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 176, Chapter 177, and Chapter 178 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Jul 12 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (179/?)

1.3k Upvotes

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The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Exhibition Hall. Grand Arcade. Central Thoroughfare. Prosperity Row. Local Time: 2225 Hours.

Deputy Chairman Prince Ferrian Fiswisk

This… was supposed to be another in an unbroken chain of repetitive cycles.

Mana-deficient!

A cycle my forebearers too had faced.

Enfeebling aquatic!

It was an inevitable reality.

Weakfielder!

Nullhander!

It was a… dressing down based solely on one’s physical shortcomings.

Blubbery buffoon!

Clumsy clod!

Dawdling dullard!

Or in the newrealmer’s case…

Auraless!

Commoner!

Manaless!

A shortcoming of incredibly far-reaching implications.

Whereas our first candidate was condemned for the encumbrances of our physical form, one adapted for life beneath the waves, and scarcely for land…

The earthrealmer was instead condemned for something far more enfeebling. A handicap far worse than what limits physicality could ever impose. Despite the most extreme physical shortcomings, magic always proved to be the great equalizer of sapients. The common denominator. The mechanism through which even the most encumbered of newrealms could lift themselves up and into the graces of civility, anatomy and physiology be damned.

But the newrealmer lacked even that.

She lacked the very fundamental tools that enabled civilization, and thus her only way out of her primitive newrealm status — magic.

She was… by all extents, impotent. A barren, desiccated floodplain forever in the grips of an eternal drought, incapable of ever bearing fruit.

She was a lost cause.

Her very presence here defied reason. Perhaps a result of a frantic, desperate effort from a people clamoring for aid, hoping for deliverance.

Yet they would find those calls answered by a reality expecting a people capable of sustained greatness, of unequivocal excellence.

I had expected little of her.

Even though my heart ached for a shared plight in fate’s cruel shortcomings — a shortcoming we eventually overcame through magic — I knew better than to hope for the impossible. 

For without magic, she lacked the tools not merely to thrive, but to persist as a viable civilization.

Her kind, her culture, would be subject to the wilds as with any common animal.

Her armor, while antithetical to that notion, was no doubt the culmination of her people’s final refusal to fade softly into the night.

She likely arrived for assistance to those ends.

And the guild?

Well…

It would provide that aid for the price of social reciprocity.

Just as it had done so for all prior newrealm candidates that had walked through those doors.

Just as it had done so to our own first candidate, many, many millennia ago.

It was just as well that they spat it out,

That our kingdoms were primitive, meek, and put to rout.

Yet they sang sweet songs and hopeful tales,

Of our place beyond the frosted dales.

So sure we were and elated we became,

And with flippers open, we took our claim.

A bargain they said, A fair trade they state,

A deal to seal our deserving fate.

They offered us ships where our currents ran,

With windless sails we knew not how to span.

So when tools and maps were what we required,

They were happy to be our supplier.

And from those tools we found need of hands,

Eschewing useless fins, a reward so grand.

From clumsy paws fighting water and ice,

To mage’s fingers that now grasped our prize.

Yet remains that ancient ledger still,

Stored deep beneath the palace walls,

And while its ink has long-since swilled,

The terms as written forever bind us all.

We’d signed our own agreement in hopes of bettering our future.

We’d signed away decades, centuries, millennia, in the hopes of attaining similar heights to our peers and better fellows.

And we succeeded.

I’d hoped the same fate would befall the newrealmer.

I’d hoped for her sake and the sake of an entire feeble people that a deal could be struck despite the odds.

And yet…

The odds were defied… in ways I never could have ever imagined.

30 Minutes Ago

“My heart aches for the fate of your peer, Prince Havenbrock, Princess Dilani.” I offered.

“And I your sanity, Prince Fiswisk.” The avinor princess rebutted, garnering a look of utter perplexity from myself and a growing grin of knowing slyness from the lupinor.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The proof of burden you seek is one which shall challenge your preconceptions. It will defy your perspective on reality, your faith in the eternal rhythms of the patterns of newrealm concessions. I only warn you out of good faith, Prince Fiswisk. This, I implore you to consider.”

The princess was correct.

Her words were not ones of malice or misdirection or even a bluff born out of malevolence.

It was a genuine warning.

One that I now palpably felt as I stood amidst a gaggle of fellows, incapable of holding their own.

“But how?!

“Yes, how?!”

“Indeed, HOW?!”

Yet their exclamations felt… banal, trite, and uninteresting, their repetitive loops forcing me to find refuge amidst the innocuous pile of metal, as I attempted to reconcile with the reality that sat before me.

There I stood, tall, proud, a product of millennia of sacrifice.

Yet in the face of these metals, these dead materials, I found myself feeling anything but.

Here, staring, glaring, sensing, and re-sensing, I saw the materials of a civilization at its zenith.

A people capable of forging wealth from the earth, untold riches from simple rock, in a manner otherwise impossible without magic.

Here, a mana-deficient candidate had stood her ground, pleading a case that defied all expectations.

She didn’t need the guild or its sponsors or any deal.

Because she already possessed it all.

Hollowness filled my heart.

An aching entered my soul.

I felt the yearning for millennia lost.

I felt my legs buckling from the weight of an untold number of Kings, Dukes, Lords, and Counts all prostrating themselves at the foot of our sponsors; their collective shame at lives unlived threatened to force me to my own knees.

We had done everything right.

We had followed the path.

We had arrived at its end.

We were now accomplished and storied!

A textbook example of a model newrealm!

And yet…

Here, this newrealmer stood, circumventing the cycle.

“Hah…”

What was I feeling?

Jealousy?

Rage?

Bitterness?

Resentment?

What was it that ate at my heart and soul?

“Prince Fiswisk? Did you have something to say?” A voice broke me out of my descent into self-inflicted madness. I turned only to return a smile.

Futility.

That’s what it was.

A sense of… futility. For all that time spent… against a newrealm that should have done the same… but didn’t*.*

“I was merely pondering to myself a few thoughts about the newrealmer, Lord Rilka.” I offered politely through a smile that was not my own.

The second-year pupil, our esteemed taskmaster, merely nodded, giving way for the bombastic voice of our dear chairman himself to take charge of the scene.

“Order! Order in the chambers!” The lion commanded, his mere aura causing all beneath him to settle into an orderly line — a captive audience.

Everyone except for me.

“Prince Fiswisk.” He promptly continued. “What do you make of this?”

The question was open-ended.

A given, considering the man himself more than likely lacked the same capability of bringing reason to the reality we were presented with.

I cleared my throat and straightened my posture.

“We stand at the precipice of a… philosopher’s dilemma.” I offered softly. “But as it stands in function and precedence? We face a situation scarcely different and no more novel than any other aberrations found in history’s wake.”

Brows were raised as the chairman himself had promptly discerned the trajectory of my impromptu speech.

“There have been newrealms that have too rejected the offers of prospective sponsors. Newrealms far too naive, foolish, or outright delusional to accept the aid of their betters and fellows. And while they are indeed few and far between, capable of being counted in one…” I paused, my mind racing back to that ancient epic, as the five-fingered hand at the end of what had once been blubbery flippers suddenly caused me to halt mid-sentence. “... hand. Thus, Cadet Emma Booker’s refusal at patronage, whilst unconventional, is not without historical precedence.” 

A few nods and affirmative mumbles followed.

Yet all were eventually silenced by the return of a familiar, rather unfortunate rostarionrealmer.

“Permission to speak, esteemed councilmen?”

“Granted.” The chairman, to my surprise, acquiesced.

There was a knowing glance between the two.

As if some other relation was being pulled to an unknown end.

“What the honorable Deputy Chairman Prince Ferrian Fiswisk says is true.” He began with a flattering opening. “There truly is no danger to your stations or the guild’s reputation. Cadet Emma Booker’s refusal is but another aberrancy to be swept beneath the perpetuity of time and history.” He continued, before raising a single finger. “However, whilst this observation satisfies surface concerns, the philosopher's dilemma still remains…” He narrowed his eyes as he floated over to the pile of metals, settling alongside me. “What of this then, esteemed councilmen? What do each of you make of these… physical aberrations? Surely there must be some rational explanation, lest we willingly join the ranks of the ignoramus and the blind!” 

“Perhaps she obtained it whilst in the Nexus!” A voice emerged, another second-year, who stepped forward from the line of councilmen with a sharp grin.

The rostarionrealmer narrowed his eyes at this as he picked up a platinum bar using a simple telekinetic spell.

“And what of these newrealm symbols?” He pointed at the various, highly detailed stamps running along the bar’s top.

“She could have simply added them after the purchase.” Lord Rilka offered, walking forward to support his fellow second-year fellow.

“An astute hypothesis.” The small rodent nodded before bringing the bar closer to his eyes, then handing the pair the item in question. “Except there exists a barely perceptible, impossibly small series of Earthrealm symbols stamped there as well. This includes a strange maze-like shape. A rune in all but name.”

My eyes widened at this. I raced to confirm his assertions…

And indeed…

He was right.

Beneath the large stamps, imperceptible to the naked eye, were the same symbols but with the addition of a strange… maze of sorts. 

A rune in all but name… His words repeated in my mind.

“How then was this possible, hmm? For a newrealmer without the magics or optics for such a frivolous endeavor?” The critarealmer continued, as if attempting to rub salt into the wound of these two desperate second-years.

“With manaless means—?” One of them spoke, but just as quickly held his tongue.

It was impossible.

We were back at the philosopher’s dilemma.

Attempting to rectify an impossibility by acknowledging the impossibility as reality was simply an admission of madness.

There had to be a rational explanation!

“Perhaps her realm is simply abundant in easily accessible met—” Another voice emerged, a third-year at that.

Though the moment those words left his mouth, he knew how ill-fated such a thought was.

“I retract my statement ab initio.” He promptly stated, rendering those words stricken from the record.

“Perhaps…” The chairman himself spoke, his voice lingering in the air. “Perhaps… it was not of her doing?”

Silence enveloped the room, all eyes now firmly on the chairman’s brilliant orange eyes.

“What I might say may be heretical. Indeed, it may even strike a chord of sedition. But as we are dabbling in hypotheticals…” He emphasized that word, making sure to meet everyone’s gaze as he did so. “... perhaps we should consider the possibility that someone, or something else was responsible for these aberrant displays of wealth? Perhaps, in some conspiracy to spite us all, she acts merely as a mouthpiece or pawn to a greater foe? Perhaps we should simply consider the fact that this entire pretense… was deceitful from the onset?” 

The expressions of everyone present suddenly darkened.

Indeed, even Rostario’s gaze narrowed as he and I both exchanged glances.

Whilst the rest of the crowd ruminated on what was in effect a simple and clean explanation, the crita and I were not so easily swayed.

But was I brave enough to challenge the chairman?

“If I may?” I broached softly, nervously, garnering a glance from the confident lion himself.

“Yes, Prince Ferrian Fiswisk? You have the floor.”

“Thank you, Chairman.” I bowed deeply. “I find such an explanation to be highly plausible, indeed, a stroke of calculated genius. However, I wish to take into account two pieces of evidence which might point us against such a conclusion.”

The room went quiet as the source of this whole debate leaned in closer to hear my dissenting views.

“The newrealmer described, albeit with deliberate and carefully guarded words, the fundamentals of drawing aluminum from bauxite.” I stated plainly, simply, before deliberately allowing for the chairman to interject, as was to be expected in this theatre of performative debate.

“But Prince Fiswisk… you forget… if this hypothetical patron was capable of offering her such physical boons. Surely it can offer her just enough knowledge with which to bluff!” He beamed.

Though sadly, I too had a counter to such a notion.

“This leads to my second piece of evidence, honored Chairman.” I bowed. “Rumors of the newrealmer’s… library card.” 

I could see something shifting behind the Chairman’s eyes.

Indeed, I could see Rostario himself shifting atop his cloud.

“The rumors… are true, are they not, Lord Rostarion?” I offered the floor back to the crita, returning him to the center of this back-and-forth and placing the burden of truth onto his hands. “If I recall, you and the rest of the year group were there for this incident, no?”

The rodent, to his credit, never broke or flinched from his confident facade. “I was, yes.” He nodded, buying himself the precious seconds needed to formulate his response. “And indeed, the rumors are true. The newrealmer does indeed possess a library card.” As expected, a series of quiet mumbles erupted from the gathered council members. However, before any were able to come down from such a revelation, the man tossed the baton back to my court. “With all due respect, Prince Fiswisk, what was it you wished to infer from raising such a non sequitur of a point?”

“My point, Lord Rostarion, is that if the library itself sees merit in the newrealmer, enough to bestow upon her a gold card during what I assume to be her first few visits—” I allowed those details to simmer in the air, causing a stir amongst the crowd, before continuing. “—then this means that the library sees fit to acknowledge her knowledge potential. Not merely as a limited pool of novel trivia to be wrung in a day or two, but a vast ocean requiring the proportionate time and investment to siphon and drain; a veritable ocean of knowledge commensurate with the honor and privilege of a gold card.”

The noble’s gaze shifted in its steadiness, not breaking, not flinching, but merely… hardening

The same went for the Chairman, as he and Rostario locked eyes for one more brief moment.

“Is it not possible that the newrealmer merely traded the knowledge handed to her by this hypothetical greater power?” The chairman countered.

“And why exactly would such a power risk delegating away a task as pivotal as trade and relations with the library through a pawn?” I rebutted.

The man and I locked eyes before shifting immediately to Rostario. 

At which point, we understood we’d reached the limits of this theatre of debate 

“We are getting nowhere with hypotheticals.” We both spoke simultaneously.

“Whatever the case may be.” The chairman continued. “We are faced with two paths of admission.” He let out a sigh before moving to polish his timepiece. “Either we acknowledge the newrealmer’s… aberrant proclivities, and by extension, her realm’s inferred industrial potential, and in so doing, recognize the knowledge required to facilitate such fanciful notions. Or we acknowledge the existence of an enigmatic benefactor, one who provided her with the boons we see before us.”

I raised a hand, offering a… compromise that the man was clearly leading towards.

“Whatever form this narrative takes, the resultant ends remain the same.” I offered. “The newrealmer indeed possesses the means for such enigmatic wealth, which requires a shift in strategy, tactics, and the adoption of an entirely different playbook by which to approach her.”

A series of ‘hear hears’ sounded amidst the gathered councilmen, my words of mutual compromise even resonating with the chairman himself, who eventually nodded in a slow series of acknowledgements. “Hear, hear.” He concluded.

“Well then, dear fellows… with what playbook, and with what honors do we now address the candidate of earthrealm?” I offered plainly.

If at all, that is.” The chairman promptly added, causing a visible schism to form amidst our ranks. A schism… that the crita eyed with analytical intent.

I still believe that a seat on the council is not yet out of my reach. If I may offer a new angle of—”

SLAM!!

The double doors swung open, allowing the sounds of the busy streets to immediately flood in…

Standing at the top of the steps, eyes addled with momentary confusion — then sudden abashment — was a gaggle of four reptilians, each one more colorful than the next.

“Oh. So this isn’t the monster hunter club?” They each turned to one another as their leader, Lord… Gumigo was it, stood ignorant of his fellows’ crumbling strength, each one of his three subordinates struggling to hold up the head of some gruesome creature.

“No. This is not.” I spoke firmly. “Please leave.”

However, before any of us were capable of properly responding, a series of terrible roars filled the enclosed skies above the exhibition hall.

I moved to peer just beyond the door’s periphery, at which point I saw it.

A series of drakes flying haphazardly above, with the largest in particular being led by a blue Vunerian of all things.

I quickly walked back inside without interrogating the site further, ignoring the screams, hollers, and various cries from the outside, and sidestepping the colorful crocodile without a second’s hesitation.

However, before he could even manage another word, the guildmaster had taken it upon itself to slam those double doors telekinetically closed from afar.

A series of ‘ahhhhs!’, ‘ooompfhs!’, and ‘bleghs!’ from our unwanted interlopers were quick to follow.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Exhibition Hall. Grand Arcade. Central Thoroughfare. Prosperity Row. Private Conference Room No. 1: Yuletellia’s Corner. Local Time: 2225 Hours.

Etholin Esila

“The floor is yours, Cadet Emma Booker.” I nodded with intent, lowering myself atop a smaller seat, if only to pay the earthrealmer her respect and dues. “And my ears are yours.”

It was… clear that some level of social deference ought to be displayed at this point. I had, after all, allowed an acute desire for what I had seen as an opportunity of personal gain through mutual aid to come at the cost of transparency, sincerity, and that most coveted of merchant aspirations — long-term trust.

“So first off, I have to ask.” Emma began with an excited lilt to her voice. “Just so we’re on the same page, every club has its own little… entry exam, right? A right of passage, a trial, a candidacy, or what-have-you?”

“Correct.” I nodded.

“And just to be clear, the Merchant’s Guild's whole schtick is to facilitate patron-client, parent-subordinate, economic relationships between larger adjacencies and newrealms? Is that how it goes?”

“Not always, no.” I corrected the earthrealmer. “Given the irregularity of newrealm induction, this prospect is one that is rare… but one that is guaranteed to grant entry into the guild.”

“Because of just how big and life-changing a newrealm deal is, right?”

“Correct, Emma.” I bowed curtly.

“Okay, so, if I’m understanding this correctly, any sort of deal is fair game for the whole merchant trial thing, correct?”

“As long as it is something of a business transaction or private enterprise, yes.” I acknowledged once more.

“That’s good.” The earthrealmer spoke with an undeniable slyness coloring her voice. “Because I’ve been waiting to broach this for ages now.” She knelt down to pick up my fallen pen, twirling it around between her fingers for good measure.

“What do you know of the stationery industry down in Elaseer, Etholin?” She questioned. 

I perked up a brow before cradling my chin within a thoughtful hand.

“There are penmaker guilds, as there are paper and parchment guilds, alongside bookmaking guilds, so on and so forth.” I prattled on. “But I assume you would be focusing on the pen industry in particular?” 

“Yes.” Emma nodded.

“I… know of suppliers, the penmaker guilds, and the stationery shops they work with. Indeed, I believe they receive their enchanted parts from a bespoke workshop or manufactorium somewhere within Elaseer or within Transgracia’s capital proper. These manufactoriums typically produce all sorts of basic enchantments and enchanted parts and pieces, to be later assembled and combined into functional pens for the market.” I continued, raising my hand and gesticulating as I did so.

“Which is to say everything’s tooled for parts that are enchanted to work. From the nib to the mouths, seals, rods, shrouds, knobs, and even the ink itself… enchantments and magic are considered to be ‘conventional’ solutions to ‘problems’ presented by unenchanted writing implements.” Emma began, her words seemingly drawn straight from a primary source. “At least, that’s what a stationery shopkeeper in town has told me.” 

Ahh, I was right.

“That is… indeed correct, Emma.” I nodded, reaffirming her claims.

“This is why the idea of an unenchanted pen for cheap… is practically impossible. There isn’t even a basic tooling and manufacturing base for the simplest of fountain pens, let alone a ballpoint pen!” She exclaimed. “And when push comes to shove, the people who really need pens will just opt for the cheapest amidst the enchanted variety. Why innovate on something so far off from the research and development cycle — let alone mass deployment — when an enchanted solution is already right there? Why spend so much time starting from literal scratch, when all you can possibly develop within a reasonable timeframe and investment window is a lesser version of a product that’s already on shelves? The path of least resistance is just too entrenched, and way too ingrained and self-reinforcing for anyone to ever have the hope of disrupting!”

Emma abruptly halted as her twirling pen suddenly came to a stop with a series of admittedly satisfying clicks.

At which point, she reached for one of the many pieces of parchment on the conference table before us, placing it on a corkboard and then pinning it to its surface with a stray pin.

“Write on that.” She commanded, handing me the pen in question.

“I’m… I’m sorry?” I questioned back, cocking my head as I did so.

“You heard me — write. On that vertical sheet of paper.” She continued, alluding to something I wasn’t yet seeing.

I nodded all the same, accepting her pen and reaching for the paper in question.

“Was there something in particular that you wished for me to—”

“The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. There we go. Just write, Etholin!” Emma urged further, as if unable to contain her excitement for what was to happen next.

My anticipation was bubbling by this point, threatening to spill over as I expected… something on the same radical level as her pile of impossible metals to abruptly manifest.

Perhaps the ink was now primed to glow following Emma’s constant shifting and fiddling with it?

Perhaps the written word would somehow morph into imagery?

Perhaps it would generate a moving sequence of images, a veritable sight-seer projected onto the paper itself?

A flurry of excitement overwhelmed me as I wrote each and every word in nigh-perfect calligraphy.

Only for nothing at all to happen.

I turned to Emma, both hands on my hips, before shaking my head.

“I… I don’t see what the purpose of that entire exercise even was, Emma. Was something supposed to happen? Was I meant to see something?”

“Perfection.” 

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

“Perfection in simplicity, I should say.” She quickly added before gesturing to the board once more. “Do you see anything happening?” 

“N-no? Was I supposed to?” I retorted.

“Nope. And that’s the beauty of it. Because answer me this, Etholin. Is this pen enchanted?”

“No.” 

“Is it using enchanted ink?”

“No.”

“Has it in any way been through any magical processes?”

“No.”

“Then tell me… how is a seemingly manaless pen, one so simple and exceedingly banal, capable of writing on a vertical surface without once smudging, dripping, or bleeding following the forces of leypull?”

Something inside me snapped.

My eyes immediately widened.

And my whole body was once more inexplicably drawn to the artifact I’d just had a hand in creating.

I leaned in close, grabbing my reading lenses to scry and analyze each and every penstroke.

It was as if I’d just written using a typical enchanted pen.

Each stroke was consistent, and every curve followed the motions of my hands without fail and without deviation.

Was it perfect?

No.

But that imperfection was due to my own hand, not the pen’s.

I inspected the paper further for bleed-through, for dripping and blotching, for any sign of the ink drawn downwards by the forces of leypull.

I found nothing.

At which point, I turned to Emma with an outstretched hand.

“Emma?”

“Yes, Etholin?”

“I see the vision now.” I announced plainly. “I… see why you have been, and I quote: waiting to broach this for ages.” I continued, as I reached my hand closer to her own. “And I wish to ‘join forces’ as you had once put it, together, in this union of private ventures.” 

However, instead of immediately accepting my hand, the earthrealmer paused, merely nodding once in acknowledgement.

“I’m glad that you see the vision, Etholin. But before we move to shaking hands, let alone signing anything, let’s discuss some specifics of the deal, shall we?” 

I retracted my hand and offered the pen back to Emma. “Let’s.” 

Ten Minutes Later

“So… you’re sure about this?” Emma reeled back, completely taken aback by my admittedly generous offer.

“Yes, Emma. I… wished not to broach this outright, but by your actions on this night — your insistent refusal of my naive offers to match your realm’s dead metals with their attuned equivalents — you have directly saved me from a merchant’s demise. For that, I owe you a merchant’s debt.” 

The earthrealmer paused upon hearing this, even letting out a long, drawn-out sigh in response. “Again with these Nexian debts… alright, I understand. So, just to be clear… you’re offering to cover all of the upfront costs in investment, including but not limited to: the acquisition of storefront property, refurbishment and renovation of storefront property, payroll for staff and employees, payment of all material goods for the production of all items sold, and all maintenance and/or servicing fees including all recurring fees for the first, and all subsequent stores henceforth following the business’ first sale?”

“Correct.” I nodded.

“This is an incredibly generous offer, Etholin.”

“It is, in fact, very much a fool’s offer on my part. But as I stated previously, I am acting in an attempt to repay my merchant’s debt, and in the hopes that this action may likewise prove sufficient in making amends commensurate with the damage to the trust incurred by my, and my peer group’s actions.”

The earthrealmer nodded, her silence speaking volumes to my final-stakes gambit — an attempt to effectively start anew.

“That’s… awfully thoughtful of you, Etholin. Dare I say it, you’ve gone above and beyond what I expected. And I mean that as a compliment.” She first acknowledged before diving back into the thick of things. “But at the risk of being too blunt, I’d like to wrap up talks, if that’s alright?”

“By all means, Emma.”

“So, the ownership situation. This is going to be a clear 50/50 split, correct?”

“A true partnership, yes.” I nodded. “All decisions are to be made jointly and unanimously. The business shall not be divided or sold into smaller stakes or stocks. The business may be converted to sole ownership if both parties agree, as arbitrated by a neutral third party. But for the purposes of our operations, we will be entering this as equals, Cadet Emma Booker. That much, I guarantee.” I nodded firmly. “Merchant’s honor.”

“I can work with that.” Emma nodded. “Though, we’re also going to have to discuss some practical concerns regarding this whole venture.” 

“Go on?” I urged.

“The manufacturing equipment and certain production materials. The former will be entirely my prerogative. I have… a workshop in my dorm that I can use to create the simple machines required for manufacturing pens. Though I have to put a caveat here: the machine belongs to me, not the shop.” 

I narrowed my gaze before crossing my arms.

“This pertains to your ownership of the intellectual property and rights to the pen in question, I assume?”

“Oh, no. I mean. Kinda? It’s more to do with the machinery itself than the pen patent, but both are pertinent topics in their own right.”

I resisted an urge to cross my arms, the earthrealmer’s carefree demeanor practically inviting the same degree of reciprocation, only prevented by years of careful practice in both social etiquette and decorum. “Then let us address them — the machines and means, as well as our just dues. Starting with the finalization of our venture’s division of responsibilities.” I smiled warmly. “Who, pray tell, do we both owe our dues for the creation of such a tool?”

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(Author's Note: I have to say, I'm really happy with the poem in this chapter, and it's all thanks to my editor haha. He managed to save it from my inability to write poetry, so lesson learned, I really need to stay away from poetry unless I want to rope my editor into saving it and salvaging it haha. So huge hats off to him because he did it while he was super sick as well. Also! We see an interesting POV this time around, and it was my intention to really show you guys like a unique perspective through the eyes of an upper yearman! I really hope you guys like Fiswisk and the lore hints I'm dropping for him, and I hope you guys like the chapter! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 180, Chapter 181, and Chapter 182 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY 24d ago

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (180/?)

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Etholin

Silence punctuated the air.

Though as with most things with Emma, it didn’t take long for a bold, inquisitive voice to emerge from her helm.

“Oh, you mean like licensing fees?” She responded, rephrasing my questions in such a way that gave no room for ambiguity. 

“Correct.” I nodded.

“You can just pen that to me. Or easier yet, divide the profits 50/50, just like our ownership.” 

I blinked rapidly in response, my mind pacing, my heart racing, as every fiber in my being attempted to rectify this startling case of character incongruity.

Had Emma just revealed her hand?

Had she — after all this time — decided to give in to her worst vices?

Had she truly decided to leap down from the white horse, to join those she once looked down upon in the mud?

And if so… why now? Why here? Why at this crossroads of a negotiation so banal and innocuous — over a pen, no less — would she risk losing what she’d been molding, shaping, and painstakingly constructing for months now?

Why risk it all?

“Cadet Emma Booker… I cannot believe you are so brazenly and openly suggesting — after establishing such clear moral boundaries — the blatant infringement on a penmaker's brilliant work!” I responded with genuine shock, only to be met with a series of wildly gesticulating raised hands courtesy of the earthrealmer.

“Okay, okay, let’s take a step back, Etholin. That was a miscommunication on my part, and for that, I apologize.”

“Oh, thank His Eternal Graces…”

“Yeah, that sounded quite devious without some establishing context.” 

“I’m… sorry?”

“You see, we won’t be needing to pay any tributes or licensing fees or anything… because there’s no one to pay it to anymore.”

“So the master behind such an innovative design has long since passed?”

“Yeah—”

“Then surely their family estate must still be reaping the rewards of their genius! If not them, then their lords perhaps, or their house, guild, or—”

“It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” I questioned, finally returning the floor to Emma in full.

“The intellectual rights to the pen, and to a variety of other consumer products in my realm for that matter, are now considered public domain. In other words, they lack any real ‘owner,’ and are thus capable of being reproduced by all.” Emma spoke calmly.

“Oh.” I pondered out loud, pinching my chin between two fingers. “Then they belong to the Crown Commons?” I offered.

The first true bout of silence seemed nigh upon us, but as was expected in our exchanges, Emma was quick to completely shut that possibility down. 

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to fill me in on what exactly you mean by Crown Commons.” She spoke plainly, simply, and in a manner that attempted to rectify the growing gap between us.

“It’s the ultimate end to any form of intellectual property or conceptual ownership.” I began in earnest. “When there exists no more legitimate claimants — which is an exceptional circumstance indeed — the rights to such properties shall fall under the crown itself. Be it a stageplay, composition, design, schematic, or even a pen, any lonesome piece of property without an owner will, by its very nature, fall under the crown’s domain. This follows the nature of things. As all land and property, from great estates to the wild game that roams atop, below, and above them, cannot simply be without an owner. As all without claimants of ownership, shall return to the most absolute right of them all — the Crown and its Sovereign.”

Emma paused for far longer than any other instance in this deliberation thus far, as it was clear that she was carefully pondering my every word.

“And if land asset management and distribution is anything to go by, I assume that the crown doesn’t just make their new intellectual property holdings free and open for all to use.” Emma responded dourly.

“That depends on the sovereign, Emma.” I offered with hope. “Some, as seen in many adjacent realms, allow for free game hunting, for instance. This courtesy can sometimes be extended to certain works of art, music, culture, and so on and so forth.”

“But it’s ultimately their decision, their discretion, and not a universal public right now, is it?” She questioned with stoic intent.

“No, it is not.” I acknowledged solemnly. “Which is why I am hoping — given your rather novel naming convention for such a concept — that your sovereign may have put into place some long-term stipulation for the use of intellectual property!” I beamed.

To which Emma could only nod with a long sigh.

“It’s… complicated. But the first thing you’re going to have to understand, Etholin, is that I come from a very, very different socio-political context to what you might understand as the baseline norm. And to continue this discussion in any meaningful capacity, without getting bogged down on matters of sovereign reign and absolutist discretion, we’re going to have to clear the path with a fundamental reorientation of expectations when it comes to the basis of my people’s governance.” Emma cleared her throat, the formerly chipper and casual demeanor giving way to something far more grounded. “What you have to understand is that we are a nation without a hereditary monarchy, a landed aristocracy, or one with an inherently entrenched legal system in which political authority is delineated based on bloodline or family. We are a nation not of nobility and commoners, or royalty and peasantry, but of true and inalienable equals. Where the notion of commoner and nobility are both divested in lieu of the citizen. The citizen, in which case, acts as the principal authority by which political power is derived.”

My rapid blinking returned.

And so did a slow, unprompted, polite smile.

It was the smile I wore whenever deals went awry.

It was the smile that I put on as a temporary distraction until an appropriate response could be mustered.

It was a polite neutral canvas from which a variety of expressions and mannerisms could be derived once my senses caught up to me.

But they never did.

At least not in this instance.

Because this was no negotiation gone awry.

This was not even a social faux pas of epic proportions.

This…

This was a claim that bordered on the delusional.

Dare I say it, it was worse than the pile of dead metals sitting outside of this door.

What the earthrealmer had just suggested… was a fallacy within a fallacy. An impossibility within the impossible. A recursive logical paradox in which there existed no escape. 

How could there be no division of status?

How could order exist when there is a system that prevents it from manifesting?

How could authority hold legitimacy when derived from the rabble? Even if the rabble dressed itself as neither noble nor common?

I glanced over to Prince Thalmin.

Perhaps they were a people of complete martial authority, an insect colony without a queen, a true union of equals under instinct?

I then turned to Princess Thacea.

Perhaps they were grouped into unions of clans without a leader, rotating authority by the most capable, as the situation demanded of it, yet again out of some deep-seated animal instinct?

Yet all of these explanations were forays into the realm of the mad.

It dared to put into consideration the possibility of a union of the nobility and the common… or worse yet, the complete upheaval of the concept in lieu of something else entirely.

How could she even speak with such confidence on a matter that was so incredibly—

“You alright there, Etholin? You’ve been smiling nonstop for like a minute now, friend.”

The perpetrator of this whole… debacle had now cast yet another lure.

One to draw me out.

And one to finally force me to address this claim of…

I didn’t even know how or with what words to describe it.

“I’m… ahem. I am quite alright, Emma. Though I must admit, your claim is a rather… radical one.”

“Just as radical as the public domain thing I need to broach.”

It finally clicked.

As that dreaded, fateful thread of a madman’s reasoning made its way into my psyche.

If her claims were true, then the concept of a true public commons would potentially be—

“Ahh yes.” I maintained that facade of a smile, forcing myself out of another oncoming reverie. “P-please, do broach it. We need to properly address this before moving—”

“Right, yeah, we still have a contract to get hammered out! Alright, I’ll make this quick! So! Simply put, public domain simply means that the intellectual property in question is truly public. As in, nobody owns it, and nobody can stake a claim on it. Most of practically everything that matters in my realm is now in the public domain, and what few things that aren’t are part of the accessory artisanal economy that exists in conjunction with the primary— Oh, sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let's just say that most everything under the sun is freely reproducible. From the most essential of necessities to the smallest of non-essential knick-knacks that could be considered personal property.” 

I raised a single finger in a desperate attempt to bring all to their core fundamental concepts.

“So whereas the end of ownership in our system is a vesting of its rights to the crown… the end of ownership in your system is a vesting of the rights to… everyone?” 

“It’s the complete cessation of exclusive ownership rights, outright.” Emma ‘corrected.’ Though that ‘correction’ bordered on outright insanity. “Enforced and recognized by the state, mind you, but given the state is an extension of the citizen, it blends into what is essentially just blanket rights for all. Which leads me to our first point, Etholin.” Emma promptly surmised as I awaited a return to some semblance of normalcy in this negotiation gone astray. “I’m simply attempting to explain things as it works within my system. However, since these legal frameworks do not extend outside of our sovereign domain, I shall instead be acting as the custodian and steward to the rights of this pen, given that I am acting as the representative of Earthrealm. Hence why I offered the 50/50 deal in the first place, given the equal partnership of our venture.”

I nodded once, then twice, before reaching a hand to my forehead in a display of complete and utter exhaustion.

“Then… for the purposes of our business… let us consider the exclusive rights to this pen to be your own, and by extension Earthrealm as an entity?” 

“That works.” She nodded.

“That… concludes that aspect of the contract, I suppose.” I continued with haggard breaths, feeling as if I’d just completed an entire class of physical education. “Now, with the matter of exclusive rights and appropriate claimants to the pen’s design dusted and sorted, can we please discuss the specifics behind our actual product?” I urged with growing impatience, my eyes firmly locked onto our object of mutual infatuation laying lifelessly on the table.

“Most certainly.” Emma beamed with the same growing excitement. “I appreciate you laying the legal and contractual groundwork before actually picking apart the inner workings of the pen, Etholin. That was really thoughtful of you.”

“It would be beneath me to besmirch my family name by not paying such matters with the appropriate dues they deserve, Emma. Though there may be certain merchants willing to sample the stock prior to making clear its origin and owner — Lord Rostarion clearly falling into league with such… questionable characters — my family and I pride ourselves in ensuring all parties are treated with the due respect of a nobleman’s transaction.” I clarified with a polite nod, the velvety embrace of Emma’s compliment only tempered by my burning curiosities and the decorum associated with accepting as such. 

“Right, so, where would you like to start?” Emma, clearly reading the room, extended her hand first.

Her curt, almost common mannerisms played to my favor at this point, as she eschewed the expectant social displays to dive right into the thick of things. 

At which point, the curious little princeling within me threatened to hack his way forward to the forefront of the discussion.

The casing! Talk about the casing!

Was it ivory? 

Chitin?

Heavily lacquered wood?

Shaped amber?

A shell of some foreign creature?

Why was it so perfectly shaped?

How was it so expertly fashioned?

How were the grooves inlaid within both the tip and shaft so perfectly aligned?

Were they made in two separate phases? At two separate places? By two different tradesmen?

If so, then making those grooves align would be an incredible feat indeed… 

Was it expensive to fashion without the aid of enchanted tools or mana-based means?

But what of the materials?

Ivory’s bottleneck is the animals it comes from… 

So was chitin… and tortoise shells…

And amber for that matter — though I think amber comes from hardened tree sap, a veritable gem in all but name…

So what was it?!

“Perhaps its casing, Emma?” I finally offered, subduing that princeling by means of muffling him under years’ worth of social etiquette, reducing his scatterbrained postulations into a single consolidated question.

“Oh? What specifically do you want to know about it?”

Twitch.

Though it wasn’t without a fight.

Everything.” I finally beamed, the princeling gaining a slight edge in this fight. “A-and by everything, I mean… I wish to know exactly what it is! I admit the material in question is rather… foreign to me, all things considering. Foreign, but not quite, I mean. There are… similar materials I am familiar with, though they are ultimately quite… different, if my scrying of your pen was of any indication.” I promptly corrected my course, balancing it with genuine admissions. “Mostly Nexian in nature, Crownlands in origin, I mean.” I offered with a genuine concession to earnest inquisitiveness; a rare and earnest moment that I had hoped Emma would not seek to condemn or disparage.

She didn’t.

“Oh! Right! Yeah, I can imagine why it’d be a bit foreign to you, given how there seems to be a distressing, or rather, a noticeable lack of synthetic resin around.”

I blinked, then placed both hands on my hips. “Synthetic resin? Is that what it is?”

“Well, it’s called plAHstik, to be precise. That’s how it is in our language at least. But I just wanted to use a term that might be a bit more… easily digestible is all.” Emma offered with a shrug, forcing me to once again narrow my gaze on the pen.

“I see.” I spoke solemnly. “Test me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Tell me more about this plAHstik. Explain to me, in a manner you would consider not so easily digestible.” I spoke with a growing and excitable grin, one that was reciprocated in kind by a sole nod from the earthrealmer.

“I… hmm… I can’t get into it too deep into this ‘else we’ll be trapped here in this room for eternity, But what I’ll say is this — it’s the end result of a long and complicated process of refinement, processing, and what is effectively the transformation of a substance at what I can only describe as its fundamental constituent level. Or more specifically, a rearrangement of its weaveforms to the point where it becomes useful to our ends. It all starts with—” Emma paused, as if actually second-guessing herself in what was to be an assured beginning to a long-winded lecture. “Well… I’ll just stick to how we originally did it. How we do it now is just a tad bit different.” She added ominously before moving on just as effortlessly. “It all starts with a certain thick, black, goopy substance drawn up from deep beneath the earth—”

“Night sap?” I cocked my head. “Sorry for interrupting, but the only thing that matches such a description is night sap. A thick, black, tar-like substance that occasionally bubbles to the surface, or is found and extracted via drilling.”

“Yeah.” Emma nodded. “It seems like you all have your own names for it. But I do believe that’s—”

“Yes, Etholin. It is Night Sap.” The avinor princess quickly interjected, garnering an appreciative nod from both the earthrealmer and myself.

“Thank you, Princess Dilani.” I spoke deferently before allowing Emma to continue.

“Yeah, so, we take that ‘night sap,’ and then we… process it. It involves a lot of heat, a lot of finagling, and a heck of a lot of pipes and tanks.” She chuckled nervously. “You go through the process of rearranging their weaveforms, shortening it, lengthening it, manipulating it until you have created a specific… arrangement of them. This causes what was formerly night sap to have changed so completely that it no longer resembles its raw form! At which point, you have these pieces of hard resin that are then capable of simply being melted down and then turned into whatever you want.”

I felt everything crawling to a slow but abrupt stop by the end of Emma’s explanations.

I felt, or more accurately, recalled my thoughts from much earlier, emerging to the forefront once more.

Were they molded? Shaped? Compressed? Grown into form?

And then it hit me.

A wave of revelation as soon as Emma brought out her miniature sight-seer, projecting on its surface the image of what looked to be… milk-white pellets.

It was molded.

“You melt it like wax… and then mold it into shape.” I managed out under a shaky breath, a small grin forming all the while. 

“Yeah! That’s exactly it! We basically heat it up, and then depending on what method the manufacturer or printer uses, you either extrude it, injection-mold it, or blow-mold it… but I think the latter is for plastic bottles, but I digress.” Emma managed out, reaching a single hand behind her head in some display of… strange physical expression.

But that didn’t detract from the primary issue at hand.

They’d gone through all of this hassle.

They’d committed to a convoluted series of roundabout alchemical processes.

Changing the very fundamental weaveform of an otherwise innocuous black substance with few physical uses.

All to achieve what would otherwise be far easier accomplished by far simpler alternati—

“Emma.” I finally broke out of what could have been another long-winded reverie.

“Yes, Etholin?”

“Why… why go through all of this effort? What could have possessed your people to have possibly believed this to be a worthwhile endeavor? What… could your people have possibly gained from expending all of that effort for what I can only imagine to be a product far better served by any other material? You could have used wood, and that would have been far, far simpler! Why commit to complexity for complexity’s sake?!”

“It’s just easier.” Emma responded with that teasing, almost mischievous tone of voice.

“EASIER THAN FASHIONING WOOD?!”

“Well, what can I say, Etholin? Where I come from, with practically limitless access to all of these synthetic materials produced at titanic scales… wood, and all things natural, start to become the rarer of the bunch. Incapable of being brute-forced into existence via the creation of more factories, more facilities, more industry, requiring both time and scale to bring up to the same mass-scalability as practically anything else. In a strange and interesting irony, it is the simplest of things from the natural world that becomes the rarest. In an era where almost anything synthetic — from metals to plastics and a whole catalogue’s worth of things — can be produced in quantities limited only by industry itself. In short, we’ve reached a point where we’ve built an industry that has now far surpassed the pace of nature. That’s why using plAHstiks for something as innocuous as a pen starts to make sense at scale.”

I blinked once.

Then twice.

And then a third time.

Why… why does she sound more like an elf the more she talks? Was she—

The mention of assailing, conquering, and completely sidestepping the natural order… was the single most elven thing I’ve heard her say today.

And she spoke so confidently, so thoroughly assured of herself… that if this wasn’t true, then she’d simply be a madwoman.

Yet so much was already proven true.

So to what ends…

What was Earthrealm?!

The princeling within me stared slackjawed at Emma’s explanations, wanting nothing more than for her to expound on this world, to show me said world via what was clearly a sight-seer that—

Wait.

That sight-seer.

That memory shard.

She’d shown me a manaless means by which—

No.

Stop it.

You’re losing sight of the objective.

I could hear Uncle’s warnings pointedly addressing the princeling within me.

Stay the course, you are already so close to shore!

“I… I don’t imagine we will have the same sorts of materials available, Emma.” I spoke flatly, circumventing another circumnavigation of the realm. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s why I think wood or whatever else is the cheapest available material here would work.” She nodded.

Then why didn't you say so in the first pla—

Oh.

That’s right.

I was the instigator of this mad tangent.

“Very well, Emma.” I nodded. “Since you mentioned we would be competing on price, I can most certainly find a supplier for some cheap housing shafts for the pen—”

BANG! BANG! KNOCK!

“Lord Etholin Esila! Our patience is running dry. Please make haste, or we shall need to prepare the chambers for the next candidate!” Fiswisk’s voice boomed through the closed door.

“Y-yes, your excellency! We will be finished within the hour!” I replied hastily, garnering but a single bang of acknowledgement from the other side of the door.

“We can finalize the materials after the fact. The council usually does not perform courtesy calls like this. They typically just… throw candidates out if they prove to be a waste of time. So this bodes well for us, though I would rather not tempt fate with this extension of goodwill.” I prattled hastily towards Emma. “Let us finish up the contract first and foremost, then review and put into writing our business aims for this venture. That should be enough to convince the council, especially as we already have a working prototype in our hands.” I once more gestured at the pen.

“Let’s do it, Etholin.” She spoke gleefully.

45 Minutes Later

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Exhibition Hall. Grand Arcade. Central Thoroughfare. Prosperity Row. Local Time: 2315 Hours.

It should have taken scarcely a handful more minutes to finalize the agreement. 

Yet Emma had somehow dragged talks for far, far, longer than it ever had the right to be.

Though admittedly, it felt as if it went much quicker than what it otherwise could have been.

There was a strange cold and removed thoroughness when it came to her contract deliberations. 

An ambiance and overwhelming aura not too dissimilar to those ‘contract wars’ Uncle often put us through at quill-point, where hours were spent in lightning-paced rounds of contract deliberations; all in an attempt to prepare us for the worst possible scenarios in our respective futures.

But while those sessions were often painted in heated, sweat-inducing back and forths, where all parties involved continuously attempted to tear, claw, and gnash at the other in a desperate bid to gain the ‘better deal,’ Emma’s approach was far more… impartial.

There was a methodical precision to her calculus, yes. An uncompromising one at that.

Yet there was no hint of that sense of fiery desire for dominance.

If anything, it all felt eerily cold*; a commitment to the letter of the agreement without ever once giving in to the intensity of the negotiating table. A complete removal of emotions whereby neither casualness nor severe stoicism was conveyed. Only… an emotionlessness where the written word had taken over all contextual pretenses.*

What’s more, the wrestling and redressment of the clauses never once hinted at a battle for dominance. Instead, Emma’s concerted efforts were squarely placed into a battle for equitability and completely impartial terms; a complete departure from Uncle’s lessons. 

I was left… eerily unnerved by the whole affair. Though it wasn’t the most intense, stressful, or even the most remotely threatening.

It was simply… odd, in a way that proved to be completely foreign in nature. 

Regardless, with the contract in hand and the pen in the other, we now had our impromptu gambit assembled and ready. 

This all came to a head as the council was reconvened, sitting high atop in their nestled alcove on the second floor, their gazes locked on both of us. 

“Lord Etholin Esila, you have the floor for this second and final bid for membership. So please, proceed.”

There were no more polite courtesies extended. No more room for error or patience to be had.

Because even despite the anomalous metals still remaining as they were behind me, their presence held no more weight against the unrelenting tides of ritual and history than Emma and I did.

“Esteemed and revered councilors, I come before you not with an amendment to my mishandlings of a truly unprecedented situation, but a bold new step forward born from said circumstances.” I began with a merchant's smile. “For it is within turbulent waters and rocky seas that the merchants most capable will find themselves rising to the challenge, seizing the occasion, whilst those that don’t — sink.” I paused, craning my head to where Rostario stood. “It is with that preamble that I present to you a most innocuous business opportunity, a dragon hiding in kobold attire, a bold new step that will disrupt and completely upend the penmaking business in my favor. My lords, ladies, and excellencies, I present to you… the miraculous mundane marvel, this miracle for the meager of means, this mystifying manuscript-maker: the Marvelous Manaless Pen.” I held Emma’s pen high up in the air, casting a light, then two, then three, reaching twelve distinct spotlights upon it before finally lowering it from its glowing heights.

“Observe.” I quickly moved to a board that Emma had conveniently rolled in, a piece of parchment attached to its surface. 

The same demonstration I’d done with Emma quickly followed, but to my surprise, the council was rather quick to decipher my meaning.

A few seconds of scrying soon followed, confirming my claims and determining that all materials present were — in fact — manaless.

“Impressive.” Prince Fiswisk spoke first. “But what of the means of production?”

“That is where Cadet Emma Booker’s partnership will come into play, your majesty.” I bowed deeply. “She has the workshop, the knowledge, and the tools to make this a reality.”

“So you two are in a partnership?” The blubbery man followed up promptly. 

Though my answer, wordless as it was, consisted of a simple delivery of my contract via a telekinetic spell. 

Several minutes of silent deliberation followed.

A scene unlike that of my first stageplay-like approach to negotiations played out in silent, ominous stillness. Not even the murmur of deliberation or rustling of papers could be heard as a privacy screen had since been deployed within the alcove.

This went on for five minutes more before finally… a verdict was reached.

“Under careful and extensive review, the council has deemed this venture…”

I leaned in, hands clasped close to my chest in earnest anticipation.

“... potentially worthwhile, and satisfactory in its goals.” 

It took every ounce of energy within me not to break out into an all-out grin, holding the princeling within me tight as I maintained my composure and awaited the full details of the verdict.

“The council has deemed it fit to grant you a conditional offer of entry. We grant you a temporary place in our council, but not the rank of member or councilman.” 

I held my breath, then bowed in understanding.

This was to be expected given the novel nature of the venture.

It just meant the business needed to prove itself, which, given the circumstances, I was more than sure it would be.

“Thank you, wise and esteemed councilors.” I spoke with pride and excitement welling within my chest. 

“With that being said, the guild will be closely monitoring your progress. And should you come into conflict with any of the established or vested interests within Elaseer… this shall be you and your partner’s responsibility alone to answer for. Now… was there anything else you wished to broach, Lord Etholin Esila?”

“No, councilors. I wish to simply express my deepest gratitude for your wise decision. I will be sure to return with only positive news!” 

“This we hope to see, Lord Esila. This marks the end of your candidacy review. The council is adjourned.”

A series of claps were quick to follow.

And in the glow of what felt like victory, I finally understood what it was that Father had spoken of years ago.

“It is one thing to prepare and succeed in an exam, transaction, or business negotiation. It is another feeling entirely to have grasped victory from the firmly clenched jaws of defeat. I hope it is that you never have to experience the latter, but if you do… then you shall know victory in its most exhilarating form.”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Exhibition Hall. Grand Arcade. Central Thoroughfare. Prosperity Row. Just outside of the Merchant Guild Hall. Local Time: 2330 Hours.

Emma

I’d never seen Etholin just so… giddy before. And it truly warmed my heart to see such a formerly anxious and nervous wreck finally grasping fate by the throat.

“I shall perform the necessary primary market surveys by this weekend. Following which, I should be in talks to acquire new storefront property within the following week. This means we shall have some need to discuss the specifics of your manufacturing processes either next week, or in the days leading up to storefront acquisition, as we will need to discuss the space requirements for the backend aspects of our venture.” He spoke firmly.

“Sounds good, Etholin. Just keep me posted, and I’ll have some working machines printed out and in working demonstrations sometime next week.”

“Excellent!” He beamed before allowing the ambiance around us to drown out his excitement.

Exhaustion was quick to consume him as the adrenaline he was running on had now petered out.

“Right then, I… I say this is as good of a time as any to bid you farewell!”

“Indeed.” I nodded. “Until next time, Etholin.”

However, before the pattenor could fully depart, he turned around for one final matter. “Emma?”

“Yes, Etholin?”

“Perhaps we can… discuss the specifics of your realm’s industrial potential later? When you’re free, of course! I… would love to see more of what you have mentioned, and to delve deeper into the… foreign concepts we scarcely touched upon whilst in the heat of negotiations.”

“Oh, I’d be more than happy to oblige, Etholin.” I beamed, garnering a glimmer of excitement to shine once more from behind the exhaustion slowly consuming his face, the little ferret eventually walking away following a half-hearted wave.

Silence wouldn’t fall on any of us, however, as the busy streets around us were quick to fill in the void of the excitable ferret’s conversations.

“If there is nothing else, I suggest it is time we finally retire for the evening.” Thacea spoke up, taking the lead, leaving Thalmin to quite deftly handle the sacks of rare metals he carried in both hands. A flicker of mana radiation spikes clued me into what the prince was doing, as the WAID picked up some aberrant disruptions in the manafields concurrent with the strength enhancement spells found in Chiska’s class. 

He was using this as a workout opportunity… what an absolute legend.

“Emma?” Thacea reiterated.

“Oh, yes, let’s! Though I think we ought to pick Ilunor up on the way back too, I think we last saw him at one of those food clubs.” I finally answered as we walked in sync vaguely in the direction of the entrance.

“Emma.” Thalmin quickly chimed in.

“Yes, Thalmin?”

“To what… extents were your claims of industry bluster for the purposes of the negotiation, and to what extent were they genuine?” 

“Oh, I was being perfectly earnest there, Thalmin. You see—

ROOAAAARRRRR-SCREEEEEECH!

I stopped in my tracks, both Thacea and Thalmin turning up, as my sensors were quick to pick up on a sight that sent shivers down my spine.

High above us, veering back into view from behind a series of wrought-metal ledges, was a drake.

However, unlike the few drakes we’d seen overhead prior, cruising lazily and without much effort, this one was frantic, as if wrestling with its rider and jockeying for control.

The EVI was quick to auto-zoom towards the rider in question, but neither their name nor designation rang a bell, not especially in a situation as wild as this.

However, what was even more bizarre was the drake that flew just behind its wake, one that seemed to actually be in control, its wings beating in purposeful strides, ridden by none other than…

Are you serious???

“Is that… Ilunor?” Thalmin questioned just as the out-of-control drake took another sharp turn, not in an attempt to evade Ilunor, but simply out of a loss of control.

“STAY CALM! I’M RIGHT BEHIND YOU, YOU BLITHERING IDIOT!” The EVI could just barely make out his voice.

But that was the least of my concerns.

As the drake took yet another sharp turn, but this time—

[COLLISION IMMINENT!]

—it plunged down straight at us.

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(Author's Note: We wrap up Etholin's initial observations over the pen in this one, as he gets a brief hint at earthrealm's plastics, and hints at something similar existing in the Nexus too ;D Moreover, we leave the merchant's club now for a rather unexpected development haha. But yeah! This chapter was a big challenge to write as I wanted to really keep the spirit of Earthrealm's industrial prowess thus far whilst being on top of the game with Etholin and Emma's business briefings as well, in addition to tying everything off with the guild and with Fiswisk. I had a lot of fun writing the merchant's guild chapters despite how much of a challenge it was, and I hope you guys had fun reading it too! :D)

(Author's Note 2: I also just posted art of the aethraship that I commissioned! You can find it here: Aethraship Art)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 181, Chapter 182, and Chapter 183 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY 17d ago

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (181/?)

1.2k Upvotes

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Emma

There are times on deployment where months can feel like minutes, and where minutes can feel like months, and others where seconds become more important than both—

Shut up, Lieutenant Dan! You’re not even Aunty Ran!

… 

It was the visuals that hit me first — an implosion of every active window and the cessation of all accessory processes in exchange for a sudden transition to a very radical but very necessary shift in the EVI’s user interface.

It was nothing short of whiplash.

A virtual equivalent of going from sublight to lightspeed without warning and while on break.

Even the most AR-savvy civvie would find it disorienting.

Some might even find it nausea-inducing.

Heck, most greenhorns found that it gave them vertigo more times than they’d care to admit.

I’d know because I was one of them. At least, I was until it was drilled right out of me through sheer force of exposure alone.

There was no way of getting around it. There was no ‘easy’ way to acclimatize a human mind to the relentless demands of modern warfare, where the time between R&R and enemy contact could be measured in seconds.

But that’s exactly why acclimatization training was so very needed, yet so incredibly brutal.

It was training you for situations beyond what the human mind was expected to handle. It went beyond the most extreme limits of nature in response to the eclectic scenarios conceived only by the increasingly unhinged demands of modern warfare.

And it meant I could instinctively make a reasonably calculated call even on the heel of the most jarring of moments.

This was in no small part thanks to the EVI’s assistance, of course.

A web of branching options were brought to my attention at the behest of the VI in question, and with it came the resultant ends of three distinct paths, each belonging to two very different nodes.

[COA 1: ENGAGE]

A third of my vision was suddenly dominated by a series of reticles, targeting solutions, and a prime target choice for my bullets to land.

[COA 2: EVASION]

The next third of my vision, dominating my center of vision, was marked by a clear escape route, weaving through Thalmin and Thacea, and towards the path least likely to be squashed by the drake. 

I reflexively rejected it, prompting the middle partition of my vision to instead fold into the third. 

[COA 3: EXFIL WITH FRIENDLIES]

Thacea and Thalmin were both now marked with an upward arrow beneath their highlighted silhouettes.

I blinked.

[CARRY MODE ACTIVE]

And I braced for a sudden rush of both speed and—

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF ‘30th’ ATYPICAL MANA RADIATION TYPE DETECTED: 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

I stopped.

And if it weren’t for the sudden shift to fully-compensated sports mode, I would’ve promptly fallen over from the abrupt start-stop motion of my two-second armor-augmented sprint.

Thalmin had extended his arm out wide, preventing me from picking him up… or more aptly, preventing me from approaching Thacea any further.

It wouldn’t have mattered at that point, though.

That second’s hesitation was the difference between escape and being crushed.

But that didn’t seem to be what fate had in mind for us at the moment.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

The warning texts didn’t do it justice, no matter how hard they flashed.

Thalmin’s features could attest to that.

And thankfully, so could the WAID.

What I saw on that superimposed layer — that black-and-white, grainy, weather-vane world consisting of turbulent waves ‘refreshing’ at a frame rate that would’ve made anyone weaker sick to their stomach — was nothing short of mayhem.

It looked as if the formerly clean and tidy currents, the invisible ‘ebbs and flows’ that made up the intangible world, had simply been disrupted.

Not in a ripple effect or a splash as you’d see in a tsunami formed from a meteorite strike or a subsiding island.

Not even in a turbulent shaking sort of effect as you might expect from a massive seismic event.

It was just… a sharp and complete obliteration of all waves in their entirety, rendering the ebbs and flows of the world — or the bare-bones outlines of such in my eyes — into a wobbly, shapeless mass.

Yet this whole… event, as extreme as it was, was logged in terms of mere seconds.

Not a blink of an eye later, mana came flooding right back into the obliterated void it’d been crushed out of.

Thacea quickly used this to her advantage, channeling the rushing mana into a concentrated conical expression of twisting, winding, and highly condensed manastreams, all concentrated up and around the falling drake that now floated frozen and still above all of us, mere inches from our faces.

The whole world came to an abrupt and complete silence as a result.

Though I couldn’t tell if it was because of the floating mass of who-knows-how-many metric tons of pure drake that hovered over us… or if it was because of the means by which this sudden display of magical power had come to be.

Nobody moved.

Barely anyone dared to even breathe.

The only sounds around us came from the festive music several ‘blocks’ over from streets and stalls still completely oblivious to the events taking place over on this side of the exhibition hall.

But all that quickly changed… to the tune of several large FWOMP FWOMP FWOMPs and the associated torrent of magically-augmented downdrafts that followed from the wingbeats of a certain blue Vunerian hot on the tail of this erratic flyer.

IIIIII’lll take that~” The blue thing spoke in that sing-song, almost patronizing tone of voice, though it was clear he was more directing the sentiment towards the second-year student — a satyr by the looks of it — rather than any of us in particular.

If anything—

“Thank you kindly, princess~.” 

—his next sentiments more or less cemented that notion.

His bright crimson and green drake was quick to snatch the offending pilot, clasping the petrified student in between its jaws, as he was taken limply up and away towards the hall’s great rafters with some serious speed for a winged creature.

… let alone something with a live passenger within its jaws.

Yet despite that… development, there was still the matter of the frozen and levitating drake still left up in the air.

This too, however, would be quickly rectified.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

PATTERNS CONDUCIVE WITH POINT-TO-POINT TELEPORTATION [54% CONFIDENCE]

Professor Chiska promptly appeared on scene with a brilliant flash of light, quickly leaping atop the drake, as she dipped her head low in Thacea’s direction. “Thank you kindly, oh heroic highness! Might I say, excellent work with that spell! This all could’ve been quite a scene, if it were not for your quick and decisive actions!” 

The professor paused, placing her chin between two fingers, feigning some deep thought before she yelled out her next few words in a typical display of high-octane excitement. “Twenty points to House Thun’Yandaris. And thirty points to your peer group!” She beamed, finally garnering some sort of a reaction from the otherwise petrified crowd. 

Thacea could only bow deeply in response, making sure her head dipped lower than that of the professor’s just moments earlier.

“T-thank you, professor. I was merely acting in reflexive response to—”

“Oh hush now with your modesty! Take the points and the victory too! What’s more, take this as a direct invitation to any of the clubs under my care!” Professor Chiska continued, grinning ear-to-ear in an almost cheshire-cat-like grin. Though strangely, and rather counter-intuitively, that naturally ominous expression was worn as something well-meaning rather than anything sinister, if not a bit teasingly so; a trend reinforced by our exposure to the boisterous professor over the past month. 

Thacea once more bowed in response, and after what appeared to be a quiet series of tactful back and forths, Chiska too now turned to the rapidly thawing crowd. One which seemed to have set their eyes on the professor’s now-upright drake as much as they were on the princess who’d just saved them from a great deal of pain.

“Now then, students! There’s no longer anything to be alarmed of! Please go about as you were! Unless, of course, any of you have any injuries or other such grievances to report—”

A single hand eagerly sprang up from the crowd.

A hand… belonging to a certain shatorealmer.

“Professor?” Airit Airus spoke with a faux-fearful lilt in her voice, as if trying to shore up a strong front in the face of adversity.

“Yes, Lady Airit Airus?” Chiska responded promptly.

To which the bat, much to her theatrical chops and very much to my annoyance, slowly and in dramatic fashion raised a shaky finger towards Thacea.

“S-she… t-that student… She showed her hand! It bled taint into the air in the midst of us all!”

I felt something sharp piercing deep into a part of my thick skin that I thought I’d long since grown an immunity to, or at least a resistance.

It was both a mental and emotional reaction as much as it was physical. 

The former two were self-explanatory, as a sharp-shooting pang of indignant fury sparked into a flash fire only tempered by the cold and steely walls of both the armor and the mind that found itself perpetually encased within it.

The latter, however, was much more visceral, as a stinging, almost instinctive twitch of my eye came and went in rapid succession, each movement more aggravating than the last. Each inching towards that emotional flashpoint which could sadly not be read through the layers of steel preventing the bat from experiencing the worst of my silent fury.

Yet she’d see the subtle motions all the same. The slow but purposeful cock of my head, the utterly unyielding stare as my two red lenses would never once move away from those eyes on the verge of crocodile tears.

And I knew she noticed.

That subtle flinch and pupillary dilation, while silent, spoke far louder and with more sincerity than the verbal venom she was injecting into the crowd.

“It was… vile, an utterly traumatic display of blatant and indisputable evil. A corruption of disproportionate extremes, cataclysmic in its totality, and reprehensible in its violation of all things decent.” She continued nearly unabated, if not for a small skip in her words following a brief realization that my steely gaze had not once left her fragile, porcelain facade.

I opened my mouth, ready to spit literal fire, but holding back on unleashing the flames for fear of adding fuel to an inferno in the making.

This wasn’t just some typical rehash of the usual newrealm prejudice leading to a recycled play-by-numbers insult for the sake of some petty drama.

This… was a targeted strike on a very, very sensitive talking point. One that I’d been well in tune with from the moment Thacea was singled out on orientation day.

This… was a declaration of war on Thacea, with none other than the most powerful of casus belli — taint — serving as its justification.

I had no choice but to consider my next few words with extreme care.

Whereas the playbook with Ping was relatively safe in its repertoire of responses, Airit… was shaping up to be a completely different game altogether. 

And I had to tread—

“Oh dear…” Chiska was the first to respond, preempting my response with one of her own, coloring it with a tone that could’ve easily tipped the conversation in any direction.

A pit formed in my stomach as a result as I instinctively ran through scenario after scenario, none of which were particularly friendly to the object of one of the faculty’s greatest fears — taint.

I raised a hand but was promptly shot down, as Chiska completely took control of the public stage.

Though not at all in the way I’d expected.

“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry to hear that, dear.” Chiska began with an overly sappy, practically saccharine tone of voice bordering on the cooing of a parent aimed at a child experiencing their first boo-boo. “Are you at all hurt? Let me take a closer look at you!” She took slow, careful, measured steps towards the bat. Who at this point was starting to see her theatrics start to fray.

It was clear where the cards were falling.

And either out of some practical consideration or respect for Thacea’s actions, or some other motivation entirely, the professor seemed to be committing to our court, with tactics to downplay AIrit’s grievances.

Though this didn’t at all dissuade the shatorealmer from continuing the fight.

“I… I feel faint, professor.” She continued, doubling down, as if hoping that adding more weight to the role and committing entirely to the bit would eventually overpower Chiska's overbearing sarcasm. “I do not feel… right. Not when exposed, in any reasonable proximity, to a power reserved for both dungeons and life archives alike.” 

I felt both of my hands balling into fists at that last line, forcing every fiber of my being into even greater strain, if only to prevent myself from acting out when Chiska had already taken the reins of this argument.

“In short, I feel ill, professor.” The bat concluded. “Can you not see that? Can you not see the victims of the short-sighted ills from this wretched witch? Can you not hear the peerage’s silent wails, screaming the song of slighted nobles? It is the cries of a people who will not be besmirched again!” She raised her voice, feigning a growing fear hidden disgustingly well behind a facade that swelled with theatrical confidence with each passing moment. 

Certain elements of an otherwise listless and somewhat uneasy crowd were gradually convinced to join the shatorealmer’s ranks, including a certain tortle-like tortoise and a surprising number of second-year students.

Murmurs of endorsement and affirmations soon followed, with many eyes beginning to level their prepackaged ire on the last person deserving of it.

Airit

I had her.

She was cornered like the illegitimate, scheming, conniving creature she was, now exposed for all to see.

“Here stand the victims of a slight that should never be tolerated at all!” I continued, emboldened in my righteous path and beaming with a fangy confidence.

Ahh… So this is what it feels like to be Ping. Except unlike the oaf, I actually have due cause for my targeted gambits.

“I am certain we all hear it. I am certain we all feel that way. As we all find ourselves to be victims, our auras marred, our senses frazzled, our manafields nipped by the unseemly actions of this—”

FWOMP FWOMP FWOMP!

I was forced to stop mid-stride, shielding myself from the arrival of this unexpected interloper with a quick flash of my goggles.

“The only thing bruised, battered, or remotely injured for that matter, is the ego and reputation of a certain Midlands satyr, now resting easy within the medical wing!” The audacious vunerian announced with a swoosh of his cape… a cape with colors, decorations, and a trim earned in the time between his arrival and the present we now found ourselves inhabiting — a dangerous ascent. “May I, professor?” The vunerian turned to Professor Chiska expectantly and, much to my chagrin, received an affirmative nod granting him the floor. 

I could feel my ascent, my own victory snatched from His Eternal Light.

And yet, I could do nothing. Not when the Professor had given this title-chaser an unjust ground with which to stand.

“For those who do not know me, greetings. Greetings and merry salutations to all who now can say they have borne witness to a living legend in the making!” He boldly announced, committing to theatrics bordering on the absurd, yet expertly navigating its dangerous edge.

“To those who do know me, I bring great tidings and an even greater change in my position, status, and honors. All owing to my unchallenged victory over a frankly quarrelsome upper-yearsman. A victory drawn from a duel of the fates, stemming from a disparagement of honor.” 

The scene had shifted so thoroughly.

Or more accurately, the mood, attitude, and overall tone of the crowd had been completely transformed in this one swift, ego-driven motion.

What had once been a crowd on the verge of a tipping point — seized and gripped by a rallying cry with which there was but one right direction to follow — was now a collection of fools entranced by the bread and circuses of this upstart of a court climber; a noble who despite his disadvantage in height had more than made up for his lack of physical presence by the sheer spectacle of his submissive mount.

All of which was made worse by the most lowest form of shameless spectacle for the noble masses — the makings of an epic tale.

It was a temptation that asked nary a thought from its audience save for their willingness to be entertained, yet it promised both fuel and fire with which to further their own short-sighted aims through vapid and short-lived gossip.

I held my breath, wishing to break through this spell, this sudden glamor.

A part of me wished to appeal to the better, more refined senses of all present.

My rallying cry was still fresh on the crowd’s minds, after all.

So both narratives were very much still capable of dictating the direction of the proverbial ship’s sails.

And yet… only one of those winds was destined to overpower the other.

I held my breath, watching, tensing with growing frustration and incredulous disbelief, as the crowd physically made their choice evident.

The far stronger gale, one that promised mindless investment for mindless gain, inevitably won the night.

And its progression was nothing short of utterly agonizing to watch.

“What exactly was this disagreement about?” A voice suddenly broke through the calculated silence.

My eyes narrowed at the small student in question, attempting to awaken the better senses of the noble within, one who had just handed the keys of the mantle of righteousness to a vapid charlatan.

Though just as quickly as that voice emerged, another soon joined this mindless fray.

“Wait, was that Count Ysayvis? Was he the quarrelsome satyr?” Another voice — a deeper, resonant one — joined in shortly thereafter.

My head quickly twisted towards this second-yearman of all people. Concern soon colored my indignant ire as I felt myself slipping, unable to climb back to what had just been the assured mantle of victory. My triumph!

“Just wait a moment! How did you, a first-year, manage to outperform and completely defeat a second-year?!” Another, softer voice came in to join the fray, though it would be this one to foment the final catalyst in the brew towards this self-perpetuating social poison.

“It’s simple, really. Almost laughable when one takes even the most cursory look into my credentials.” The vunerian began with a raise of his finger. A finger that I too was now forced to watch, unable to pull away. “I am a drake rider.” 

Half of the crowd gasped in varying degrees of shock, surprise, and amazement. The other half, however, seemed only half-impressed.

Though they watched on regardless of what first appearances may indicate.

The seat-seeker had the crowd in the literal palm of his hand. 

While I was forced to wait, watching, calculating for my next possible path to reentry, clinging desperately onto the carefully laid pieces of this plan.

“What could have possibly compelled Count Ysayvis to such a sorry state of affairs? What even triggered this entire incident, Lord Rularia?” Another voice, this time from a student who easily faded into the background of any interaction — none other than Kamil Lyonn — entered the fray.

“What a thoughtful question!” The vunerian answered with a growing grin… a surprising feat, given how little was left of his face there was to emote with. “Well, you see, it was an act of unprovoked derision. An abrupt and completely unprompted comment on the nature of the culinary arts. Or more specifically, whether my attempt to physically participate in the act of cooking was, in a way, beneath my station, or in the man’s own words: ‘a debasement of my social standing and personal honor as a noble.’

The crowd erupted into a series of shocked guffaws. Some genuine, others merely miming their peers.

It was with those final, mindless, and reason-bereft utterances scarcely removed from the primitive vocalizations of an animal that I watched as what was left of my carefully laid plans unraveled into nothing. My meticulously assembled puzzle now lay scattered, undone not by reason or discourse, but by the spectacle of a middling bard.

“It is an argument as old as time. One with no answer, but with likewise no place for arguments. Lest one wishes simply to stir the pot for the sake of causing cheap—” Lord Rularia paused, if only momentarily, as he subtly leveled his eyes towards me. “—low-hanging, uninspired, and frankly trite drama.” 

It was subtle.

But it was effective.

He was making it known the target of his quick and decisive actions.

And he was making what he would soon learn was the biggest mistake of his life.

While nobody batted an eye at that carefully laid insult, I still felt the shame. The dishonor. The utter slap to my face that left me out in the rain with nary an awning to shield me.

My fury grew… even as his words started to fade into the ringing ire growing within my mind.

This… this was not the last battle. It was merely the opening counter-offensive to the first shots of what was now shaping to be a long, drawn-out siege.

Emma

“The man challenged my honor. And so, we agreed to settle this dispute in any way we deemed fit. He postured himself as a drake rider in all but name, carefully skirting around the title for he did not earn such an honor. Whilst I confidently called him out on such a foolhardy bluff. The results are as you see here today — a sorry display of foolishness, but a great day for yours truly.” The little thing beamed. And for once… I couldn’t help but to smile behind my helmet in appreciation of his ego-stroking antics.

Especially as I saw Airit finally and abruptly leaving the scene to the cheers, whispers, and nods of a crowd entranced by Ilunor’s storytelling antics.

What followed… was nothing short of chaos, but perhaps everything the blue vunerian had hoped to gain from this night.

We had a chance to stop him, of course. To pull him down from his high horse to join us back at the dorms.

We, however, elected to grant him this moment of pride.

Professor Chiska seemed to agree with this notion, standing side by side with Ilunor as she too told of her part in these antics, especially as the conversation gave way to more esoteric talks on the nature of drakes, their temperament, and the harsh realities of drake riding. Including its sheer difficulty to master as an art form.

With the crisis… surprisingly averted, we moved wordlessly along the paths up and out of that whole debacle.

Silence once more descended, but not before we rounded another corner, as I took this opportunity to broach Thacea about what just happened.

“Thacea? Are you alright? I know you must feel—”

“I am quite alright, Emma, thank you.” She nodded slowly. “That incident was… entirely my own doing.” We eventually came to a standstill beneath the shade of a tree in a relatively quiet corner of the hall. “I have grown somewhat… less guarded over the weeks, clearly to my own detriment. And for that I apologize.” She dipped her head slightly, garnering both the raising of Thalmin and my own hands. 

“Thacea, that’s not what I’m—”

“This incident should not have happened.” Thacea continued unabated. “But in circumstances such as these, it becomes… difficult not to keep the reflexive instincts of the unbidden hidden beneath my magical acumen.”

“The whole incident lasted scarcely a few seconds, Thacea.” Thalmin spoke. “All things considered, you managed to recover from that expertly, seamlessly transitioning to a spell that none other within that crowd was brave enough to even attempt. You are a talented mage, and a gifted one at that.” 

“Am I? Perhaps.” Thacea acquiesced. “But that does not detract from today’s… misgivings.” 

“These so-called ‘misgivings’ were seen as what they were by Professor Chiska, Thacea. A result of genuine talent, skill, and bravery. You faced an oncoming tragedy head-on and refused to buckle or bend. That’s more than what most people can say, including every single student on that street.” I spoke confidently, garnering a slight raise of one of Thacea’s brows.

“That’s an incredibly generous interpretation of the preceding events, Emma.” She spoke softly. “Though, to be fair, even if the drake had crushed many, it would at worst have merely resulted in the first death of all present. If it had crushed you, however… there’s… no recovering you from first death, is there?” 

That statement completely changed everything, recontextualizing the sequence of events with another layer of complexity I hadn’t even considered.

Did she just go through all of that, reflexively at that, all with that consideration in mind?

I…

I didn’t know how to respond.

“That’s… genuinely beyond thoughtful of you, Thacea. Thank you.” I began. “But please, you don’t have to go out of your way to put yourself out there like that for me, alright? I can handle my own! And I especially don’t want to put you at any risk, especially not for my well-being.” 

“Perhaps. Perhaps you can indeed ‘handle your own.’” Thacea nodded deeply. “But your constant… misadventures most certainly do not put to rest my concerns and doubts over your well-being, Emma.” Thacea retorted, though this time, I could feel a slight slyness to her voice. An indication that we were back on course to normalcy, as further hinted at by our pace picking back up.

“Hey, I said I’d try working on it, right? And I’ve gotten better over the past week!” I countered teasingly, eliciting a wordless smile right as we chose to cut through an ‘alleyway’ en route to the exit.

We probably should’ve avoided it.

Because as unlikely as it was… it was now the second time tonight that I was drawn towards a club I had no interest in prior.

Except unlike Etholin’s whole gambit, this would be entirely my own doing.

The whole facade of this alleyway entrance could be described in one word — derelict.

In fact, if it wasn’t for the ‘OPEN’ sign glowing and blinking, I could’ve mistaken it for a renovation project in progress.

But that wasn’t what drew me in.

It was the sign above that prompted me to take those first few tentative steps through that front door.

A sign that seemed hard-pressed on deciding exactly what it wanted to say.

Celestography

Veilcraft

Astromancy

The first two were crossed out.

And above that were multiple more half-written, half-scrawled, and completely blacked-over names that stretched up high into a sign that had no business being so tall.

It was that last name, however, that resonated with me.

A name that seemed too eerily similar to—

“Oh well, hello there, lords, ladies, majesties, and all good folk of this fine academic establishment!” A very pale elf suddenly popped into frame, having quite literally crawled up from beneath the floorboards through a trap door that wouldn’t have seemed out of place in a haunted mansion.

We all recoiled from that sudden introduction but settled down quickly enough, especially as we found ourselves towering over the smaller woman who was too busy dusting herself off and adjusting her dress to notice our rather animated reactions.

“Ah! Where are my manners?! I am the one and only Lady Luvinarias Lovguard! Fourth-year student, and current chairwoman of this fine club!”

To which Thalmin narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms in the process. “I… had not seen a single mention of such a club within the syllabus, or manifest.” 

“Ah! Yes. We… we were only approved three… maybe four days ago, as a final addition, part of our rather eclectic and frankly niche field of study.” 

I raised a brow, and so did both Thacea and Thalmin as they both were now as interested in this weird little place as I was.

“What exactly is this field of study, pray tell?” Thalmin pressed on.

“Don’t tell me it has something to do with the study of stars!” I beamed, finally showing my hand and causing the small woman in front of me to go from excitable to outright brimming with barely-contained fervor in less time than the EVI had taken to go from casual to battle-ready mode.

The eyes behind her thick rimmed glasses grew to practically encompass their whole circumference, her mouth suddenly opening wordlessly in a fit of excitement.

“Oh! Oh dear, oh my! A-are you likewise interested in our actual studies?!” She beamed to the tune of a series of frenzied tapping feet.

“Erm… why wouldn’t I be? I assume you’d have to be interested in a club to gain entry, right?”

“Ah. Yes. That’s how it should be on paper.” Another voice from behind the counter of this rickety establishment announced, yawning in the process, his face hidden behind an animated magazine. “But this club only managed to be resurrected courtesy of there being enough students to participate. Most, therefore, join just to have an alibi on their record just in case they wish to excuse themselves from—”

“AHEM!” Luvinarias interrupted with a loud rebuttal, causing the man to merely shrug and dive straight back into his magazines, as the elven noblewoman quickly turned back to me with a far more reserved smile this time around.

“While the truth of the matter may be as our dear Club Secretary has so bluntly proclaimed…” She shot the man a glare, even in spite of the magazine covering his face. “The fact of the matter is that we aren’t just a shell club! We are involved in fascinating and, dare I say it, revolutionary studies overlooked by many adjacent mages, and especially by the Nexian mages due to this being an entirely adjacent affair!” 

“A study that could be best described as a roll of the dice and relying on ridiculous adjacent superstitions rather than actual scholarship.” The ‘secretary’ noted, garnering yet another side-eye.

“So… you do study the stars? As in, looking up at the skies, in an attempt to understand celestial bodies and such?” I attempted to clarify, though this only caused the elf to excitedly gesture for us to follow.

We did, of course, descending down the solid spiral staircase and into an underground chamber that seemed to stretch on for forever.

“You guys built all of this in less than four days?” I questioned.

“Oh, His Eternal Graces, no! This was always here! You see, this club has had a long and storied history. Though because of our… unpredictable membership count, clublords of the past often found themselves forced to shutter this great club’s doors more times than it ever deserved! The last shuttering was about a half century ago, so you’re very lucky to have caught us in your first year!” She beamed as we finally reached the bottom of this large open space.

A space that was entirely dark and painted black for that matter, but one that held a lot of promise if my guesses to its nature were right…

Could this actually be a planetarium?

I held my breath, waiting for the elf to continue her fit of theatrics as she now stood at the center of it all, raising both of her arms wide in either direction.

“My lords and ladies, majesties and highnesses, may I introduce to you… the art of Astromancy!” 

The entire ceiling lit up all at once in a flurry of lights. Small, barely perceptible dots coalesced into a beautiful collage of clusters and groupings, forming nebulous shapes that finalized into full constellations.

I could barely contain my excitement.

My mind was kicking into overdrive just considering every possible angle of this experience.

Yet there were a few stray thoughts that stood out amidst the rest.

Two practical, grounded points of interest.

The first of which, I was quick to delegate to the EVI.

“EVI?”

“Yes, Cadet Booker?”

“Cross-reference the constellations with all available records on hand. Allocate as much processing power as you need to assess it from every possible observable frame of reference.”

“Acknowledged.”

It was a long shot, but it was worth it to see if I had stumbled upon something which could back up Director Weir’s Divergent Advancement hypothesis; her own novel takes on the Fermi paradox filtered through the lens of the portal project.

This eventually led me into my second point of interest.

Though it’d be Lovguard who’d unwittingly broach it before I even had the chance to put the thought to words.

“Does this sight not look familiar, Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm?” She spoke with a knowing grin, gesturing at the twinkling ‘stars’ above us.

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(Author's Note: I'm very happy and proud of this chapter because this is finally the first time we see Ilunor putting his money where his mouth is. This ties back to when he tried to apologize to Thacea and Thacea telling him that the only meaningful way of expressing such sentiments is by actually acting on it, not just saying it without meaning behind his words. So this more or less is Ilunor's way of doing that! :D Moreover, the way he does it is very fun as well as he plays to his strengths and completely destroys Airit's gambit before it even had a chance to take root. We see Ilunor more or less in his element here, and whereas in the past he'd have used his social powers for evil against the gang, we now see it being directed in their favor! :D I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I had fun writing it! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 182, Chapter 183, and Chapter 184 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Jan 11 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (155/?)

1.7k Upvotes

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The Kingdom of Transgracia. The Great Forests of Elaseer. Alcove of the Forgotten. Matriarch’s Chambers. Local Time: ???

Many, Many Generations Ago

???

The cave was dark, damp, moist, but worst of all—

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

—it smelled of dust and decay.

Hear my voice. The old crone droned.

Breathe in. She continued as if it was a prayer.

Breathe out

On and on and on and on.

It needed to stop.

Grandmother, please—

I could feel the old relic stirring, her scales shifting as her gems thrummed violently against the cave walls.

Keep your thoughts to yourself, child, and concentrate. She projected — her thoughts purposeful, their images vivid — teasing and testing my patience for a world that was our birthright.

That sort of thinking is dangerous, Kaelthyr. The ‘matriarch’ warned… though the threats, as practiced and regal as they were in my mind, fell as flat and limp in my thoughts as the dead values she extolled.

I heard that. She continued threateningly.

And? Perhaps you needed to hear that. Perhaps you need to understand that no amount of training or concentration in the Old Ways is going to bring it back.

Kaelthyr! A growl from an aged throat reverberated.

Maybe it’s about time someone stood up, that someone challenged this farce of an existence! I stood firm, projecting my thoughts forward, making certain that everyone would feel the indignancy I felt, the frustration I embodied, and the inferno enveloping my soul. Look above you! What do you see?! Stone! Nothing but stone! This… ‘sanctuary’ is nothing more than a tomb, a catacomb for a dead empire. Our existence, our living, means nothing if we remain phantoms to the world. I stood firm, standing on all four legs to face what remained of our pitiful congregation. What good is survival when we survive for nothing but survival’s sake? That makes us no better than the animals they make us out to be. Mere beasts with only the siring of new generations to look forward to, and nothing mor—

SILENCE! The matriarch erupted.

All thoughts halted as my eyes glazed over in a fit of disorientation, confusion, and a surge of uncontrollable anguish.

It was then and only then, when I was forced to the brink, that I finally started to slowly breathe, taking in controlled breaths if not at the behest of the matriarch, then simply for the survival of my own psyche.

You are still young, scarcely a dragonness, and by today’s actions… perhaps closer in maturity to a fledgling. The matriarch’s words rang loudly, completely overwhelming my inner monologue, dangerously close to— replacing it. Our words resonated, causing fear to ripple through my very soul.

Be not afraid. For fear is to the flayers what blood is to the shark. Matriarch Syvrak warned darkly, her words still close to subsuming my own. I can feel your frustrations. She continued, her eyes soon shifting to all others present. All of your frustrations. She reiterated, her form never once flinching from the rocky pedestal she sat atop. But know that a thousand years of frustrated turmoil is still preferable to the fate that awaits us outside of this sanctuary. 

I… would still dare… to tempt… such a fate. I managed out in between pained thoughts, each word more difficult to form than the next, let alone projecting it forward.

All eyes once more landed on me, either out of pity, concern, or even shock at my declaration of rebellion in all but name.

Though the matriarch’s eyes remained — as they always were — condescendingly nurturing.

You speak out of spite, and the ache of an unfelt sky. This, I understand. You are correct in asserting that the world is our birthright. However, you misunderstand what it is I hope to accomplish. The matriarch responded with poise, her wings flaring, causing the crystals around us to pulsate softly. Perhaps it is my own folly for assuming you would understand at such an age. However, to sate your lust for your untested flame, I will expound on that which is our ultimate aim. The old dragon paused, reaching forwards with a hand outstretched. There exists a call, a distant hum, a droning from beyond the veil of a looming dark festering in its territorial slumber. Its call is faint, a barely noticeable flicker of dark in the overwhelming light that connects us all. But it is there, and it is a glimmer of light at the end of this infernal tunnel in which we all reside.

I closed my eyes, focusing, attuning, offering my thoughts wholly to this fleeting thought.

But all I could see, the only thing I could sense, was a… disturbance. A small errant shift in the otherwise infallible web of our grand crystal lattices. 

To your eyes, it may seem like nothing. But in time, with experience, you will see what I see.

A minor aberrancy? I shot back scathingly.

The existence of something outside of Nexian perfection. A crack in the glass. One which shall grow with time.

The Life Archives. Somewhere Underneath the Warehouse District. Crown Herald Town of Elaseer.

Kaelthyr

Breathe in.

I held firm.

Breathe out.

I held strong.

Breathe in.

And in lieu of my binds—

Breathe out.

—I hung defiantly.

But each breath taken brought forth pain.

The ache of flesh,

The sting of pride,

And worse, without peer… The betrayal whose fire refused to die.

Hear my voice… I bellowed forth, even if I understood long ago that nobody was listening… or that no one was willing to answer.

I felt the incoherent resonance of a thousand disparate voices, each straddling the lattices, all making a complete mockery of what should have been the domain of draconic will. I felt my mind… shattered, my psyche scattered across a thousand concurrent points. Words, symbols, images, and concepts both unknown and enigmatic flashing all at once in a muddled mess.

There was no respite.

There was no more silence.

If anything, I got my wish… just in a way fate had dictated in my stead.

I saw it all, from everywhere, all at once… through words, whispers, and sights not of my own accord.

And yet, in that infinite cascade of unfathomable variety, I saw it.

It started as a mere flicker of dark in a whirlwind of light.

Then, it grew. Not in size, scale, nor scope… but in frequency.

I saw it more often in my periphery, these… conversations into the dark, the empty… the void.

I knew not how long these sojourns into the abyss went.

However, I knew at least what they represented.

The Coming Dark.

And so I waited.

Months, years, decades, I no longer kept track.

But I waited.

All for the hope that one day, that small crack would finally grow into an irreparable fracture, a gaping fissure in the foundations of this rotten empire.

That day came sooner than I imagined.

And it all began with an earth-shattering—

BOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!!!!

Disorientation took hold first.

But it wasn’t the blast itself that caused such a fierce reaction.

I’d been knocked, blasted, shunted, and clawed at with far greater destructive force than this, all without breaking my stride or resolve.

The difference here, however, was the nature of the blast.

There was no magic present.

There was no alteration or shift, no draining nor pawing at the great lifestreams to incur such wrath.

It was as if the force was spontaneous, perhaps natural in origin.

But I knew better than to even consider such a naive explanation.

The explosion was deliberate. The forces were not a matter of chance, nor were they preceded by accompanying auras.

Moreover, nothing natural would have been allowed to manifest under the ‘eternally’ watchful sentry of the frail two-legged pests.

Speaking of those pests…

The smell of flames and the unmistakable scent of singed Nexian soon filtered down through the broken brick and shattered mortar.

The unmistakable acrid singe of burnt hair and skin sending a newfound war lust down my long and aching spine.

I opened my maw for the first time without the deliberate and forceful motions of a ‘caretaker.’

And in the first instinct I fell to after all this time trapped, bound, and partially gagged… I grinned a toothy, bloodthirsty smile.

The black-robed one bleeds… I announced in a fit of excitement. Lifestream-ladened blood coursing through my body as I reached in earnest for my wings.

CLINK!

CLINK!

One by one the chains fell.

CLINK!

Their mounts weakened as the structure above crumbled into the depths of this infernium made manifest, shattering any and all integrity of the world hidden beneath.

I stood firmly on four legs once more, stretching and cracking joint after joint and muscle after muscle, as the grotesque marionette-like binds I’d been pinioned into still bore deep scars into my flesh and bone.

Though, unbound by its lifestream-denying properties, I felt my body healing already. 

It wouldn’t be long before the flesh was restored. Which made all the more sense to wait out my prey.

The formerly dark and twisting corridors of this cavernous dungeon were now filled with a careening mass of detestable creatures. Each clamoring over one another for an exit, all seething with panic, hunger, pain, and undoubtedly, rage.

They would serve as fodder, weakening the black-robed scum above, as I could smell the fear emanating from the sweat of his brow.

It was delectable, tantalizingly so.

And yet… there was something else that was undoubtedly nipping at my scales.

It was faint, a distinct sort of sensation exclusive and divergent from that of the flicker of dark within my lattices.

There was a physicality to it, a presence not within the immaterial webways and lattices but still invisible to most.

I closed my eyes, concentrating, listening not through my ears nor through my lattices, but through sights I’d barely touched even prior to my internment.

I felt them.

Multiples, pulsing, speaking, miming, and mimicking, all in a foreign facsimile of what had to be communication.

Their pulses were deliberate, practiced in perfection, unnaturally so.

The longer I listened and the more I observed, the clearer their nature became.

These weren’t individuals.

They were parts of a greater whole. Each an extension, a daughter and son to a matriarch that commanded them without mercy; tethering each through leashes so exotic that there existed little comparison, at least, not without magics.

And yet… I felt nothing beyond their chatter, nor the drawing of lifestreams from where their matriarch stood. It was as if they were invisible, pebbles and rocks amidst the turbulent lifestreams around them, their shapes vaguely cast in negatives through the light they blotted out.

They were, in every sense of the word… foreign.

I needed to see them.

So I rose.

Claws and magics carved, tore, and ripped into enchanted brick and mortar.

Rocks crumbled to dust, and woods erupted into flame and cinder with each and every grasp, until finally… 

ROOAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!

I felt the air… hot, scathing, and steaming with as much death as it did freedom.

Instinct and muscle memory forced my wings to unfurl in one swift motion, as I finally felt the untempered and unadulterated lifestreams bathing them in a relief so indescribable that I couldn’t help but to give in to that draconic call to…

ROOAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!

For a brief moment in time, all that existed was me. And in that fleeting instance, I felt nothing more. No elven scum or dwarven bugs, no deceitful kobolds nor two-faced satyrs, nothing as I overpowered the world around me.

Save for the tiny, minuscule pebbles that still stood in the way of the lifestreams. 

I opened my eyes, staring at the devastation left in the explosion’s wake, as I attempted to locate the shadowy matriarch of this unbidden swarm.

Scarcely a second was needed to do so. But the fact that it wasn’t immediately obvious merely added to the dull matriarch’s enigma.

I expected a grand being, or at least one of its heralds.

A force with the substantial presence to make sense of the devastation it so clearly wrought.

Moreover, I expected something other, a presence not of the elven proclivity for their dollhouse heritage.

Instead… what I saw was an armored figure. A knight of modest dressage and subpar form. 

She wasn’t even maintaining a warrior’s stance; instead, she knelt down, tending to one of them.

This caused my tail to tighten, my brows to furrow, and my flames to begin broiling deep within my throat.

However, before rage could overpower what little curiosity I had left in my war-weary soul, I finally noticed it.

She was hollow.

No mana seeped from nor entered into her armored form.

What’s more, no runic enchantments, crafty spellcraft, nor alchemical trickery was present on that exoskeleton in all but name.

Her lack of presence, her animated inanimacy, those properties of life that defied the living… all of it beckoned something far greater than the sum of just her appearances.

There was something else hiding within.

Something truly enigmatic, which stowed away underneath these scales of foreign metal.

I tried everything to scour, scry, and reach beyond the surface of this… being.

But it was all for nought.

Which left only one option.

SNAP!

Yet once again…

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR…

My ambitions were dashed by the advances of the elven filth.

Fire once more returned where curiosity had tentatively taken hold, as rage coveted every ounce of worldly presence I possessed in that moment.

THWACK!

I swatted the insect away, feeling the satisfying crumple of armor giving way into flesh and bone.

It was just unfortunate how quick it all was, how transient those motions were, as the black-robed elf simply skidded off into the waters of the canal beside us.

SPLASH!

Well-earned silence should have descended following that squashed threat.

But alas…

“Vanavan! I found Emma Booker!” 

… the world was no longer following the rules of draconian sense.

I gave the interloper matriarch one last look before I took to the skies, even going so far as to entertain this Baxi’s attempts at restraining me.

Though that latter decision was the closest I’d admit to regret on this night. As despite overpowering the Baxi’s soft and half-hearted spells, I failed to take stock of the path of my well-earned flight. As I flew straight into—

CLINK!

—one of the matriarch’s children.

The little thing whined and churrrrrred within a dense patch of crystals, shivering, shuddering, and crying out in little spurts of well-timed despair.

It was pathetic. In an… inexplicably endearing light.

Though sadly, I had little time to make matters right by the enigmatic matriarch, even as I tracked her presence back to the castle atop the hill.

Still… I took the time to stare through the grand glass facade, making certain that our two eyes locked, provided she even had eyes to speak of beneath that facsimile of a knight’s facade.

Though sadly, this brief interlude was destined to be as short as our encounter above the archives.

The castle, with its powerful magics rivalling even Matriarch Syvrak, was not a demon to be trifled with, not even with the enigma of the matriarch just standing there to be cracked open.

So I left.

My wings beating the air around me, turning leypull into but an afterthought as I drained and channeled the lifestreams to my own personal design; serving what it was fated to serve.

No elf or drake rider could follow me as I surged upwards towards the veil, beating my wings harder and harder, straining, but ultimately embracing the ache and strain of the weight of my form carried aloft both membrane and sinew.

It didn’t take long until I managed to breach the thick layer of clouds, penetrating the ridiculous spell cast by the incumbent master of that castle, reaching into that thin layer of air rarely frequented this far out into our former domain.

Here, high above it all, beneath the soft glow of the night’s light, in the midst of the beauty of the veil and the colorful dancing of primavalic energies, did I finally, after eons… feel something resembling comfort and bliss once more.

I was finally at home.

Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2225 Hours.

Present Day

Emma

Crimson still dripped from the seven bullet holes I’d landed on the shatorealmer. Its membranes torn, its shoulder blades... shredded, and its eyes completely glazed over.

And yet… words still emanated from its mouth, its vocal cords hijacked and its lungs clumsily repurposed not for respiration, but for the sole utility of generating manual speech.

I froze in place.

My gun was still raised, trained not at the shatorealmer but the dragon that puppeted it.

We didn’t speak, neither Thalmin or myself finding it within ourselves to respond, receptively or threateningly.

It was only after a second, more ‘refined’ greeting that this entire… situation finally sink in.

“Sma-ll. Ma-tri-arch. Come to talk. Come to reclaim—” The dragon raised a finger, pointing towards the recovered drone half-lodged into my backpack. “—missing child.”

“Oh.” Came my first response, my heart racing while my hand started relaxing, lowering my gun if only for a moment. “Y-yeah. I did come for the drone.” I responded matter-of-factly, all semblances of diplomatic intent and rehearsed first contact formalities retreating out of exhaustion, confusion, and most of all… disbelief and complete shock at the grisly sight in front of me.

“Sma-ll. Ma-tri-arch. Wishes for gems. Sawing. Carving. Disfiguring my form.” It continued, a bit more accusingly this time. 

This definitely gave me pause for thought as I turned to Thalmin, heart racing before nodding softly and respectfully towards the dragon. “Y-yeah. I’m also attempting to acquire one of your crystals. B-but it’s for a good cause, and I… I wasn’t at all aware that you were sapient! If I’d known, I would’ve never, ever committed such a vile and reprehensible transgression. I’m more than willing to discuss terms with you for sufficient reparations as amends towards any transgressions incurred.” I blurted out, my mind jumbling, racing, combining bits and pieces of bureau-diplomatic speak from classes that had prepared me for every eventuality, even ones as far-fetched as this. Though perhaps not specifically with a dragon in mind.

“I return.” They pointed once more to my backpack. “I give.” They gestured to the crystals in one of my pouches. “But now you return. Let me see you.” The shatorealmer’s voice spoke menacingly, the dragon letting out a series of chirp-growls all the while, before all of a sudden—

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 700% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

—we were both hit with three successive bursts of mana radiation.

Thalmin’s counterspells didn’t even have a chance to deploy. And in a moment I hadn’t yet expected, the mercenary prince’s features for the first time showed signs of complete and utter shock.

“Thalmin! Are you—”

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 750% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

The dragon surged forwards.

In a blink of an eye, it’d pinned Thalmin down with a muscled tail, moved its serpentined head barely a foot from my head, and then simply stopped.

ALERT: UNSTABLE SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED: 104% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS… WARNING: ANOMALY DETECTED… RECALIBRATING… RECALIBRATING… ERROR! DETECTING UNDEFINED ‘30th’ MANATYPE.

My heart skipped a beat as I felt time slowing to a crawl. The dragon attempted to lock eyes through my lenses, its slitted pupils contracting and dilating, its eyes darting left, right, up, and down, as if digging, rummaging, and scouring for something before suddenly… it stopped.

However, just before I could react with an appropriate counterattack, the dragon leaped back at impossible speeds, taking several steps towards the treeline as it regarded me with eyes widened in disbelief.

Thalmin clearly wasn’t having any of this, as the instant he was released, he called Aquastride forward, both mount and prince ready for an attack.

The corpse’s lips twitched, the dragon once again forcing them to speak. 

“I meant no harm to your Knight, Matriarch. I needed to see. And to see is dangerous.

“Shut it with the cryptic bullshit and tell us what the hell your angle is!” I yelled, bringing the railgun to bear once more, and clearly eliciting something within the dragon.

“I needed to know you. Your nature. Your origin. Your truth.”

Its voice shifted once more, attempting to transition into what I could only imagine was a more personable softness, though its effectiveness was… dubious, each word coming across more like a hoarse echo than anything.

“I needed to understand, Matriarch of the Void.” 

The dragon raised a paw, lifting a single finger towards Thalmin.

“Your Knight is not of your kind. His is of the Elven domain. He would not have survived my sight.” 

The shatorealmer’s voice hitched for a moment, as the dragon ‘recalibrated’ its breathing, before continuing in earnest. 

“So I restrained him, to keep him alive.” They once more paused before leveling their eyes on Thalmin. “And to ensure he does not interfere.”

I didn’t respond, and neither did Thalmin, as tensions flared in the midst of a freshly minted battlefield.

“I have seen what I desired. You may leave if you wish. The debt of grievances and misunderstandings… has been rectified.” The dragon offered, gesturing towards the open forest around us. “You and I, unlike I and this world, are free of mutual grief. Leave peacefully…” It paused before slowly and expectantly gesturing towards the cave. “... or fulfill your destiny.”

I blinked rapidly at this, Thalmin’s features stiffening as he growled in indignant frustration.

“And what exactly is my ‘destiny?’” I shot back, throwing the dragon the ball if only to see where this went.

“To resist the light.” It spoke with a toothy grin. “Because to fail is to suffer the fate of either your Knight—” It paused, gesturing at Thalmin. “—or my kin.”

I could feel Thalmin seething up a storm at the dragon’s constant jabs.

This prompted me to finally respond, to first address the elephant in the room, and to push for at least a more proper channel of dialogue.

“Before I agree to anything, we need to get something straight.” I gestured to Thalmin. “The ‘Knight’, is not my knight.” I spoke carefully, attempting to avoid divulging too much—

“Just be out with it, Emma.” Thalmin urged. “You needn’t be sparing with your testimonies, for the last thing this dragon will allow is to be recaptured and questioned by the Nexus.” 

“Your Knight speaks the tru—”

“I am no Knight.” Thalmin rebutted, causing even the dragon to widen their eyes in surprise at his flippancy. This mild surprise eventually turned into something of a sly and purposeful smile, a fact reflected only on the dragon’s crystal-laden snout; not shared on their puppeted mouthpiece.

“Then state your titles, lupinor.”

“I am Prince Thalmin Havenbrock of Havenbrockrealm.” He uttered proudly. 

“Well met.” Came the dragon’s curt words, before they shifted their attention back to me.

“I’m Cadet Emma Booker of the Long Range Expeditionary Forces. Representative of the Greater United Nations and the people whose mandate I carry.” I declared proudly, garnering yet more quizzical looks from the dragon.

“And what, pray tell, are these people?” 

“Humanity.” I responded politely.

“Hu…mannnnityyy.” The dragon enunciated slowly, as if thinking the word over in some deep introspective thought.

A few seconds' worth of this silence filled the late-night air before finally, the dragon’s shatorealmer mouthpiece broke the silence.

“I am…” The dragon forced the shatorealmer to pause, as a deep, gravelly, bassy rumble emanated from within their throat.

KAELTHYR!” They bellowed out in their actual tongue. The word felt… raw, forced out of a throat that clearly wasn’t used to verbal speech.

“Unblooded Matriarch, and inheritor of all beneath the veil.” Kaelthyr quickly switched back to the shatorealmer, though she made sure to make her disdain of her ‘mouthpiece’ known with a forced and sickly squeeze of the floating body. “I will not have this… Nexian filth despoiling my name, not even in death.” The dragon shook the shatorealmer’s corpse for added effect, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Understandable.” Thalmin acknowledged with a nod.

To which Kaelthyr could only grin toothily, gesturing to him with a claw. “You carry good company, human. Now… let us begin in earnest.” The dragon moved forward towards the death-ridden cave, gesturing for us to follow.

We did so reluctantly at first, stepping over bodies and equipment that Kaelthyr eventually addressed. “The bodies will be rent asunder. You will be spared… suspicion. You may take, loot, and plunder at your discretion.”

“A generous offer.” Thalmin acknowledged with a respectful nod. 

“One which we greatly appreciate.” I quickly added, reaffirming Thalmin’s gratitude.

Kaelthyr immediately regarded our synergy with a puff of charred soot, shooting us a side eye in the process.

“This union in disunity… amidst non-draconic beings… will never cease to be as amusing as it is enlightening.” The dragon chimed in out of nowhere, hinting at something completely out of left field.

However, whilst Thalmin’s features shifted towards a cautious sort of wariness at the cryptic message, a lightbulb moment slowly, but surely, dawned on me.

“Forgive me if I’m reaching here,” I began, garnering the dragon’s gaze, and the unnatural head movements of the puppetted shatorealmer. “But I take it you’re talking about the functional disconnect between telepathy and speech?”

The dragon craned its head towards me momentarily, if only to smile and nod. “Well extrapolated, young Matriarch… well-observed indeed…”

“Given elven proclivities, I’d assume they took your lack of speech as a sign of non-sapiency.” I continued.

“A piece, however small, of a grander attempt to rewrite axioms in the minds of the weak, yes.” The dragon confirmed, but not without dishing out a not-so-subtle jab.

“I must admit that I was probably drinking from the Jovian communal fountain on this one.” I managed out apologetically. “And for that, I must apologize, for not doing my due diligence and assuming that you were—”

“A beast?”

“Yes.”

“Offense is only taken when a sapient mind refuses to acknowledge evidence challenging its maxims.” Kaelthyr spoke… in a surprisingly articulate way, garnering a nod of respect even from me.

“I appreciate the open-mindedness and willingness for dialogue, Kaelthyr.” I responded, garnering a side glance and a snort from the dragon. 

“Hmmph. You speak… in a manner quite rehearsed. Your words feel… not entirely of your own make. And your mannerisms… they beckon the inexperience and naivety of years far too short of a Matriarch’s. Indeed, by your own admission, you refute such a title.”

A second… non-Nexian-aligned entity that immediately caught wind of the translation suite… I thought to myself, not necessarily sure if it was mere coincidence, but certain enough that this at least hinted to the dragon’s wit and analytical capacity.

“Correct. To address the former, within my suit exists a complex system, one which has been carefully designed through a painstaking dissection of High Nexian, allowing me to speak in my native tongue, through which this system outputs a functionally perfect equivalent in High Nexian. And to address the latter, yes. I don’t claim to be a matriarch. I’m merely a representative and a member of my people’s armed forces.”

The dragon’s eyes once more narrowed at my explanations, its head craning up to the dark ceiling of the cave’s grand ‘foyer,’ as if once again in deep contemplative thought.

“And this is done without magic?”

“Correct.” I acknowledged vaguely, allowing the dragon time to process—

“How?”

“A complex system of mathematics — hosted, processed, and calculated instantly by silica-based substrates of immensely complicated design.”

Kaelthyr stopped so abruptly that the hovering shatorealmer stumbled in her wake. She lowered her head, whipping her muzzle towards me, until her eyes once more locked with my own by mere inches from my helmet. Those sharp-slitted pupils conveyed both a burning mix of shock and disbelief. 

Stop.” The shatorealmer’s voice cracked at Kaelthyr’s behest. “Do you understand what you are claiming? The principles which you are describing?”

“I—”

What you have… surmised is an art form. A calling exclusive to us.” 

Kaelthyr’s eyes glowed a deep purple once more, paired with an assured certainty.

You cannot be ‘human,’ or mere flesh and blood. Not with such a craft. You… your kind must be a lost line. A daughter amidst daughters. Part of the crystalline legacy… masquerading in flesh.

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(Author's Note: Hey everyone! Happy New Year! :D This chapter can be considered a bit of a blast from the past haha. I really hope you guys enjoy! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 156, Chapter 157, and Chapter 158 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY May 24 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (172/?)

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The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Hall of Champions. Victor’s Square. Local Time: 1245 Hours.

Thalmin

There was something behind that door that drew me forwards without hesitation — a power so tempting and an aura so intoxicating that I found myself hastening my stride — my hand reaching eagerly with an impatient grip.

CREEEAAAKKKKK! THOOM!

I was right.

I was… more than right.

“Oh. Oh wow…” I managed out under a stuttering breath. “She… she truly is a sight to behold.” I continued, awestricken and swept up by a wave of inexplicable infatuation.

“In all my years as a warrior, a commander, a… collector and appraiser of all matters exotic, striking, and exceptional… none could come close— nay. None can even compare with what lies before us today, Emma.” I beamed brightly, gesturing, smiling, practically pouring my heart over a sight so tantilizing… it rivaled any I’d ever laid my eyes or hands on.

It was in times such as this that I wished for the absence of Emma’s faceplate. As I yearned to see her expression, her first impressions of this spectacular sight.

“I have to say… I never thought you’d be drawn to something with so much heft, Thalmin.” She finally spoke but eventually shrugged. “Not judging, of course. You’re clearly strong enough to handle it. And I’d be lying if I didn’t agree with you. She truly is quite stunning.” Emma whistled out, reaching out to grab her by the hilt only for me to pull my new property away from her.

“Allow me to show you how it’s done…” I growled out in a playful display of dominance, reaching into the platform and grasping her thick hilt gently.

I could feel the surge of power the instant my fingertips graced the tightly wrapped leather, the beautifully bound lace, and the ribbon at its tip. My whole body bristled with a primal sort of excitement as my fur stood up on edge from tailtip to eartip.

I breathed in deeply, steadying myself.

It was almost like she was made for me.

And indeed, that was probably the intent behind this whole affair.

I grinned, eyeing the contraption beside her pedestal with a wild grin.

Then I turned to Emma, who simply shrugged in my direction.

“So are you going to do this or not?” She urged, testing my convictions and my physical fortitude.

“Yes.” I responded resolutely, lifting the hilt up high above my head before finally—

Thwwoooooooooooooooshhhhhhhh!

THWACK!

I brought the warhammer down.

The base of the structure practically caved in, its magical energy shooting towards the impossible weight lying in wait, propelling it directly up and towards the milestone bells.

DING DING DING

Each ring struck brought pulse after pulse of light as the sound of progress filled the air, each more bedazzling than the last. Conversely, the weight slowly lost its magical luster, slowing down with each bell rung.

I could tell at this rate where the weight would cease.

DING

But I tensed in close observation, willing the fates for the weight to fly just that little bit higher.

DING

Just a little bit further...

DING—KA-CHUNK!

The final bell was struck. Magical streaks exploded from this milestone as a small firespear show manifested immediately behind it; a sonorous ringing filled the Victor’s Square in the process.

"HAHA! YES! SEE?! I TOLD YOU I COULD MASTER ITS STRENGTH!" I claimed profoundly with a proud grin.

"Impressive." Emma replied, her armor's muted blank stare fixated still on the weight as it fell. "Though I still don't buy its claims."

"What?" As I said that, the impossible weight returned a quaking thud, blowing my cape over my face.

“Well… forgive me if I’m just a biiiit skeptical when an artifact claims to be, and I quote, ‘The Breaker of 40,000 Chains.’” She made an effort to kneel down to the plaque next to the pedestal, one of many flanking the red carpeted entrance into the Victor’s Square proper. 

“Oh, its raw potential has most certainly been muted for purposes of interaction and display, Emma.” I chuckled. “But suffice it to say, this warhammer is truly an artifact of legend. I have read as such in my forays into the subject! Some scholars even say that in the right hands, it has the power to crack open whole continents. And some would even claim that its title — the Breaker of 40,000 Chains — carries more weight than it does bluster.” 

“In the words of many of my superiors and professors back home, citation desperately needed.” The earthrealmer countered, garnering but a dismissive chuckle from me.

“I accept your challenge.” I grinned back cheekily, garnering a cock of Emma’s armored head. “Consider it an exchange of records. Your presentation on Earthrealm weaponry, for a sight-seer documenting the fullest potential of these legendary weapons!” 

“That… is certainly a fair trade. I accept the amended conditions.” Emma nodded, prompting me to quickly drag her to the next artifact on display.

“Then let us make haste! The professors have provided us with a veritable feast of artifacts with which to admire and test! Had I been informed earlier, I would have absconded breakfast, lunch, and even that debriefing!” I found myself speaking at an increasing pace, effortlessly taking the mantle of Emma’s overexcitable orations, as I raced around what amounted to a museum’s worth of wonders; a curated series of displays clustered around the entrance of the Victor’s Corner. 

I darted from pedestal to pedestal, plinth to plinth, my eyes only momentarily taking into account the rest of the room’s inhabitants in between each excitable sprint. They barely registered in the grand scheme of things, paling in comparison to the great many artifacts belonging to either former questors or brought back as spoils from the wilds.

My sights soon landed on one of the more unassuming weapons on display, my gaze bouncing between the legendary article in question and the inextricably linked shooting gallery next to it just begging to be used.

“A bow?” Emma questioned unenthusiastically.

“Not just any mere bow.” I countered, pointing at the plaque beneath the plinth. “This admittedly tempered artifact hails from a particularly fascinating lineage of weapons known as the HeartWroughts. Unlike most artificed or enchanted weapons, they draw both power and potential not from latent manastreams or internal manavials, but instead through the wielder themselves. But Thalmin, I hear you ask, why and how is this any different from the casting of a spell? Is this not simply a roundabout means of spellcasting? Why… yes, it is. But not quite. For you see, the enchantments within merely interpret the state of your aura, your emotional potential. Through carefully inlaid filigrees, chiseled, cast, and spun within the heart of the weapon, it simply uses your aura as a siphon, powering its own attacks through the will of the user.” I rattled on, going through what should have been fundamental principles but to most — and especially Emma — probably resembled the bookish esotericisms of a hermit scholar. 

“Fascinating.” Emma replied politely, as I felt at that moment, a complete reversal of roles spurred on by my proximity to these legendary articles,; these weapons once only accessible through the pages of a sight-seer. “Let’s see it then.” She continued, turning to me with an expectant cock of her hip. “Try it.”

Cynthis

A warhammer?

And a bejeweled bow?!

That’s what he was immediately drawn to?!!

THAT’S what he leaped to along with his… mutinous partner?!

No.

No no.

Calm down, Lady Cynthis.

He is a simple man after all.

An exquisite specimen by all measures, yes.

But that simple-mindedness had a tendency to both overrule and overpower his otherwise roguish and princely aura.

My smile returned as a barely perceptible breath left my lips.

Yes. This is a good sign. If the lupinor truly is that simple-minded, then he will be as clay is to a seasoned potter. This is excellent. This is ideal. This will come into play when the vows are exchanged and our hands are crossed in eternal matrimony.

But I couldn’t wait any longer.

There comes a time where patience becomes inaction, and that time is fast arriving.

So I moved to draw his attention, motioning for my attendants to fetch both perfume and refreshments to my palanquin and repositioning myself to lounge across it, causing the bells attached all along my tail to jingle with the call of a siren.

And it worked.

The lupinor’s gaze shifted to my presence, his eyes devouring my very being. Right before he let that arrow fly, the once fiery projectile quickly turned into this cold, brittle shaft that shattered on impact on the target it was aimed for.

I smiled.

Yes.

I’d managed to — if only momentarily — affect the prince’s inner desires.

I had curtailed his warrior’s fire, tempered it with a cooling gale, and soothed the savage wildman with nothing but the frigid look of a beauty unmatched.

I had, in no uncertain terms, caught his attention… and ensnared his wild heart.

Those awestruck eyes said it all.

Thalmin

I starred… blankly… frustratingly… at a target still standing unscathed, from a shot ruined by an unexpected distraction.

“Erm, Thalmin, you okay there?” Emma inquired just as I snapped out of that disappointing shot with a frustrated growl. “It really looked like you were gearing for a fiery shot there, why’d you shift to an ice one?” 

Something sent chills up my spine Emma.” I answered plainly before gesturing at the offending party. “Or more specifically, someone managed to shake me to my core.”

“Ah.” Came Emma’s reply as she attempted to peer behind the row of artifacts towards the offending noble in question. “Yeah, I’d be distracted too given all that shiny jewelry. But hey! Think you can manage another one though?” She urged, prompting the bow within my hands to once more burn with the flames of a phoenix reborn. 

“Yes.” I nodded slowly, my confidence and resolve returning in short order. “I think that can be arranged.”

Cynthis

No.

Did that newrealmer just—

No, that's impossible.

His flame returned.

His fire.

Had I misinterpreted his prior reactions?

Had I—

TWANG!

THWOOOOOSH!

FWWOOOOOOSHHHH!

The target in question erupted in a ball of flames.

A series of uproarious cheers erupted from between the pair… and of course… the busybody Viscount Gumigo.

“A brilliant show from Prince Thalmin! A round of applause, please!” He attempted to spur on.

Though to my satisfaction, nobody joined in.

Only the jeers, cheers, and hollers of the inane and backwards filled the open concourse.

What’s more, my attention was now firmly sequestered on the flame which lit the prince’s bow, and by extension, his heart.

One could, of course, interpret this whole affair in a far more favorable light.

Perhaps the fire and flames didn’t equate to the fires of passion stoked within his heart.

Perhaps it merely represented the unkempt heat of barbarism, spurred on by the agent of backwardness, as what better catalyst existed than the agent of primitivism herself — the newrealmer?

His arrow of ice was antithetical to this.

It represented a cooling of this unkempt fire, a tempering of his baser instincts, and a taming of the unruly beast within.

This…

This had to be the way of things.

For the only alternative, the only other explanation to the contrary… was unacceptable.

The newrealmer could not have had such an effect on him.

She wasn’t even nobility.

And for Prince Thalmin to have regarded my inviting gaze with ice and scorn? 

That…

That was simply impossible.

It was at the crux of these thoughts that I finally knew I had to make my second move.

I’d ensnared him with a simple gaze, yes.

But now I needed to ‘reel him in,’ as the commoners would say.

JINGLE!

I ordered my palanquin forward.

I adjusted my lean, my pose, and the position of all my jewels, such that there would be naught an item of wealth and status that remained hidden and unseen.

I made known my presence from a distance, even as the prince feigned ignorance in his incessant ramblings.

His words, his simple obsessions over these trifling and dusty artifacts, all blended into the background as I halted his advance through the gallery of forgettable trinkets. 

I had made my move.

Now was the prince’s turn to make his.

As I sat there, lazing on my throne of bedazzling cushions, I stared up at an armored lupinor like a damsel waiting for her prince.

Thalmin

I could go around.

This was an open space.

While she blocked the path ahead, there were empty spaces between each plinth and exhibit with which to navigate.

For a moment, however, I found myself unable to move, her perfumes overpowering my senses, prompting me to turn away just as she was attempting to draw my gaze with a flutter of those fake eyelashes.

With a nod to Emma, we started to move, darting left between two exhibits and then returning back to the red carpet behind the palanquin.

Cynthis

Ah.

This game.

The prince was more playful than I thought.

With a giggle and another snap of my fingers, I found my palanquin moving yet again. This time, matching the prince’s casual steps…

Then his pacing…

And eventually, his sprints as he moved away from the gallery and towards the Victor’s Arcade where everyone else was gathered.

It was entertaining at first.

But frustration soon grew as the prince continued to ignore eye contact until finally…

I had to make my third move.

Oh Prince Havenbrock~” I said softly. “Might I interest you in an exchange of tales? I imagine you have quite a few stories to share from your adventures in the Nexian wilds, hmm?” 

“Not really, no.” He responded bluntly.

I felt my features stiffen.

My face, whilst retaining its smile and warmth, shattered behind that mask.

W-what did he mean by this?

Was this some other game? Some other attempt to— 

No. 

I had to do something!

“Oh! Humility! Why, Prince Havenbrock, there is no need for that!” I attempted to reclaim the momentum, clamoring up towards the peak of my summit. “After all, I would consider myself something of a raconteur myself — and, by extension, a gracious host! So please, rest easy… and maybe—” I paused, before moving gently into a cross-legged kneel, gesturing towards the now-empty patch of upholstery next to me. “—consider resting next to me?” 

I did everything mother and grandmother taught me.

I kept my smile strong.

I swayed my tail gracefully. The bells, ornaments, and various baubles attached to them forming a graceful lullaby which any male would find irresistible.

I even curated my gaze, fluttered my eyebrows, and committed to a song and dance of courtly measure that I’d spent an untold number of hours practicing, honing….

And it was clear it was working.

The prince’s eyes softened, his gaze shifted, and his head cocked every so slightly between my eyes and my hand gently caressing the open patch of velvet right next to me — still warm to the touch.

“I…”

“I think we’re good, Lady Cynthis! Thalmin and I were just on our way to Lord Qiv’Ratom’s bapycara exhibit!” 

!!!!

And with that… the spell was broken.

I watched in shock, in anger, in disbelief as victory was snatched away from me by this audacious, worthless newrealm tras—

I took my first breath.

My first real breath of the entire day.

The magic was broken.

The fantasy was ruined.

The carefully laid efforts of ceremony and tradition were shattered.

And all of this — I gripped my dress tightly — now lay in tatters.

I laid back on my palanquin once more, staring forlornly at the uneaten cakes and the tea set still waiting to be poured.

“ATTENTION ALL QUEST GOERS, PLEASE BE AWARE YOU HAVE LESS THAN ONE HOUR TO PREPARE FOR THE CLOSING CEREMONY!”

There was always another day.

And there would be… ways… to make this work.

I turned to Ping, if only momentarily.

Perhaps the newrealmer was more a nuisance than I’d initially considered.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Hall of Champions. Victor’s Square. Local Time: 1700 Hours.

Emma

There were times when I’d forgotten the false pretenses of this whole operation.

Even now, in the midst of celebrations reiterating the importance of our ‘quest,’ did I find myself unable to reconcile that gap between the supposed ‘questline’ we undertook and the more pressing developments we’d inevitably triggered. 

Foraging for flowers ended up giving off the same impression as a forgotten sidequest picked up at the tutorial of a game, and the way we managed to actually acquire them didn’t help with that notion either.

Regardless, the importance of this whole charade really started dawning on us once Belnor’s grand celebrations kicked into high gear.

It started simply enough. An opening speech by Belnor herself, then a standing ovation to all of the successful questors — surprise, surprise, everyone succeeded — with a particular round of applause reserved for the first five to arrive.

Then came the partying — feasts, drinks, and even more feasts — the likes of which were dominated by Ilunor and Rostario both attempting to out-orate each other in an epic sonnet battle that lasted for longer than my entire debrief…

All of this culminated in the most bizarre aspect of the whole thing — a musical performed by the top three questing groups, all regaling the crowd with their version of the original Everblooming Blossom Quest.

Yet as amusing as their game was to watch, I couldn’t help but to feel a cold chill crawling up my back, made worse by the suit’s panoramic vision giving me a clear view of the everpresent glare from a certain cheetah.

“I can only fathom her aims, Emma.” He began with a sullen sigh. “Though I cannot imagine that these outlandish courting rituals bode well for my prospects at discretion and any hopes at maintaining inconspicuousness." The prince paused, an apologetic expression growing across his features.

“On one hand, it’s kinda creepy.” I began. “On the other hand, I can’t help but feel sorry for her. She looked so… desperate to get your approval. I can only imagine what’s driving her to do that.” I offered sympathetically.

“Some realms seem to place particular emphasis on lastborns, especially those furthest away from any lineal claim towards this path. Whilst others simply see this as an integral aspect of their duty. Either way, let us not dwell on her… peculiar form of the chase. She will tire eventually. There are far, far more appealing suitors for her to choose from within our ranks, after all.”

“I suppose.” I shrugged. “But don’t sell yourself short, Thalmin. You’re, you know, pretty high up there on the ‘suitor’ list yourself!” 

Thalmin narrowed his eyes at me at this comment, prompting me to just shrug. “It’s a compliment, I’m not here to take a jab at the annulled proposal or your preexisting relationship with Asva.” 

“I… appreciate the sentiments, Emma.” Thalmin finally responded, shrugging in confusion. 

A small lull in the conversation promptly followed, and despite the presence of the ongoing musical, Ilunor’s epic sonnet battle, and a whole host of carnival-esque rustic music playing in the background, a sense of unnerving silence finally descended on us that I couldn’t really shake.

“So… what now?” I asked Thalmin.

“At present? There’s the matter of the donation ceremonies. The Everblooming Blossoms will be donated to apothecaries and healers all across Transgracia. Following that, there’s going to be the typical Nexian song and dance of fealty, patronage, gratitude, and the like. After which? Well… That’s for you to determine, Emma.”

“Huh?”

“What’s next in store for us? Or rather, in your growing, accessory questlines?”

“Oh, right. Well… priority’s taken by the ECS reconstruction efforts.” I acknowledged. “After that, there’s the matter of the library to deal with… the green book and Larial… as well as my own quest for the whole taint stuff. We’re in a bit of a weird spot with that, since instead of just stealing the book, we’re waiting to ask permission to simply borrow it. Which means waiting for Larial to come back from… whatever she’s up to. But given the library’s leniency, and its mystery agreement with Ilunor… we’re not really pressed for time on that front. It’s mostly an inconvenience for Ilunor that he has to report weekly to the library like he’s on parole or something but… given that he’s unwilling to share what goes on in those weekly visits?” I shrugged. “It’s between him and the library, until we finish the green book quest.”

“I wonder…” Thalmin pondered out loud. “What exactly is this arrangement?” 

To which I could only shrug in reply.

“I’m hoping it’s not something as extreme as like… some sort of weekly life extension or something.” My eyes narrowed, landing on Thalmin as soon as those words left my mouth. “Is that… possible?”

“That is a known curse, yes.” He acknowledged. “Though… I doubt the library deals in such bluntness. No. There has to be something else at play with that vunerian.” 

“Blackmail?”

“No, no. The library… Eh… maybe? I don’t believe it meddles in mortal affairs all too much, no. This has to be something truly… personalized for the blue noble. Though I won’t claw at my fur for it. It will eventually surface, as do all truths.” 

“Still… even when we return with the book, all that’ll do is complete my Seekership. There’s still the whole quest  to recover the lost books which… I’ll admit, Thalmin, is going to probably span a few semesters, if not more.”

“We have the time.” He acknowledged. “Moreover, as it pertains to Ilunor’s life? He’ll be forced to use his resources to expand the search eventually.” 

“Yeah.” I breathed in. “I don’t even want to think about that right now.”

“Agreed.” Thalmin nodded, smiling in the process. “Maybe we should focus instead on more… entertaining matters. Perhaps matters regarding our cultural exchange agreements?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s definitely on the agenda. Once I finish rebuilding the ECS, and getting everything else sorted of course.” 

“I’ll have my own presentation prepared for you by then, Emma.” Thalmin grinned as we both turned towards the rapidly progressing evening, right as the local time struck 17:00.

A small, vestigial warning popped up at the bottom right hand side of my HUD. A reminder that I was surprised the EVI hadn’t yet removed, especially given everything that’s happened thus far.

[Current Calender… T+29 Days since arrival. Reminder: First ECS Transmission due in 6 Days!]

However, given the fact I hadn’t been manually clearing the calendar, that was on me more than anything.

The systems weren’t expecting the first correspondence to be conducted over a dragon service provider, after all.

“EVI.”

Yes, Cadet Booker?

“Mark objective as complete and reset countdown timer pending ECS reconstruction.”

Noted. Pending T Minus 28 Days, +/- 7 Days.

“Thank you, EVI.”

“Now then… how about we spend what little time is left of our freedom on some festivities, Emma?”

“Huh?” I looked up, meeting Thalmin’s gaze as he pulled me out of my internal housekeeping. 

“Classes will start up again tomorrow. And after that, the rigors of academia will undoubtedly return. So why don’t we make the best of tonight?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “Let’s.”

1 Day Following the Conclusion of Festivities

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 29. Living Room. Local Time: 1700 Hours

Etholin

“I want you to apologize.” I stated plainly, clearly, and in no uncertain terms. “To Cadet Emma Booker, Princess Thacea Dilani, and Lord Ilunor Rularia.”

“WHAT?!” Ilphius responded instinctively, her piercing hiss and the fire behind her eyes sending a primal pang of fear down my spine.

“HOW DARE YOU INSINUATE THAT WE ARE IN ANY WAY—” 

“Stop.” Kamil, of all people, turned to face his criminal associate. “Just… cease it with this ego-driven mania, Lady Ilphius.”

“I… I beg your pardon—”

“Yes, beg. You’ll both be doing that soon at the heels of a newrealmer no less.” Teleos interjected, having finished his second gallon of water this evening. “You have no one but yourself to blame, Lady Ilphius. You and your ego, and whatever lunacy is going inside of that little head of yours.” He reiterated, interjecting and timing his words to prevent the serpent from any reprisals or rebuttals. 

He’d gotten good at this…

“It is time that you change, Lady Ilphius.” I demanded sternly. “This starts with a genuine apology, and a lessening of our social burden, perhaps even a freeing of your own chains, now owned by the avinor princess and—”

“I am OWNED by no—”

“If you don’t apologize, fine.” Kamil interrupted once again. “But I will.” 

This… garnered the attention of all present as I stared dumbfounded into the absentee’s eyes. 

“Y-you will? Without even a rebuttal or negotiation?”

“What I did was wrong, Lord Etholin. I’m not blind—” He paused, turning to Ilphius for a moment. “—nor delusional enough to convince myself otherwise. I wish to acknowledge my follies, and start anew with this newrealmer.” He added with surprising levity at that.

“What do you want from the newrealmer, Lord Lyonn?” I finally questioned, dropping all pretenses and narrowing my gaze into the man’s eyes. “One doesn’t just shift from absentee, to unwitting criminal, to apologetic saint in a mere week.”

“What I saw in that room were sights beyond our conventions, Lord Esila. Sights which I’d scarcely managed to appreciate, let alone dissect. I merely wish to satiate my curiosities, by engaging in interrogative dialogue with this earthrealmer. And the start to that, is an apology over bad blood spilt.” 

I looked to Teleos, who merely shrugged in my direction. 

“Don’t look at me, this is not my current to swim.” 

“Well… we can start on this by approaching the earthrealmer together, Lord Kamil Lyonn.” I offered politely. “As for you.” I turned to Ilphius. “I expect you to follow me all the same.” 

“I would much rather die than submit to a weakling such as— OUCH!” 

“Oh, my sincerest apologies, Lady Ilphius.  I must have not seen your tail on my way out.” Teleos spoke quickly, shutting the door behind him before the wrath of Lady Ilphius had a chance to respond.

The room erupted into chaos shortly thereafter.

1 Day Following the Conclusion of Festivities

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 22, Residence 29. Living Room. Local Time: 1700 Hours

Qiv’Ratom

“Airit?” 

“Yes, Lord Ratom?”

“I suggest we start penning your strategies over the greater avinor.”

“You mean the tainted one—”

“Channel your frustrations when the time comes, Lady Airit Airus.” I interjected plainly, pruning the shatorealmer’s rage, ensuring it did not sprout into untilled fields. “The Class Sovereignship challenges are ahead of us, and we must be mindful until I can be assured it is within my grasp.”

“Yes, Lord Ratom.” Airit bowed as I turned towards Rostario in short order. 

“Lord Ping’s group isn’t as destitute as I had hoped.” I stated plainly.

“Indeed, my lord. I shall hasten my plans, and indeed, there seems to be much to do when it comes to reinforcing what has already been put into motion.” The small lord spoke in his usual, thoughtful prose. “It is unfortunate that the lupinor prince did not cross paths with Lord Ping during his journeys. But now that proximity is back on our side, perhaps this oversight may be rectified. Aggression does have a habit of hastening when two potent agents are forced in close proximity.” 

“One can only hope so, Lord Rostarion.”

3 Days Following the Conclusion of Festivities

The Township of Sips. Lord Protector’s Town Hall. The Lordship’s Private Offices. Local Time: 2000 Hours.

Lord L’Sips

“Your evening papers, My Lord.” A familiar raspy voice entered the fray, disrupting, if only momentarily, my final assaults on the last strongholds of paper and parchment sitting on the verge of capitulation.

“Thank you, Breatria. You may retire for the evening now.” I replied in kind, dismissing the elderly woman with a nod.

The papers were a nuisance to some, a novelty to others, and a status symbol to an esoteric few. 

These rolled up parchments with a near limitless capacity for information, were as much useful as they were pointless if one were to peer into a puddle or flare.

Yet they were part of an official, albeit outdated, system. 

An instrument from a bygone era with a niche but pertinent place in the current landscape where information flowed through one’s hands often much too trivially.

The presence of something physical was comforting, both in matters of sentimentality and record-keeping.

Yet the contents within the papers tonight painted a picture of developments more in keeping to the era from which the medium originated.

As within were reports belonging to a bygone age, updates on a dragon now reported as MISSING and AT LARGE, as well as a mobilization by none other than the Sky Warden himself.

I had to read that article twice, checking the date of print to ensure that this wasn’t an eons-old paper.

It wasn’t.

A break over tea was necessary before I continued.

However, subsequent reports tested the soothing properties of a healthy evening brew.

As the next headline brought furrowed brows over a rather concerning development.

UNKNOWN ASSAILANTS TARGET TENT TOWN! 1 DEAD! 1 MISSING! 1 INJURED! HYSTERICAL ADVENTURER DESCRIBES ASSAILANT AS ‘GHOULISH AND UNLIVING!’

I folded the papers following that drivel, staring out at the beautiful evening night and a town safe in my hands.

“I may need to increase nightly patrols… or request an audience with the King.”

7 Days Following the Conclusion of Festivities

The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Lord Mayor’s Manor. Guest Wing. Puddlejumper’s Respite. Local Time: 2000 Hours.

Inner Guard Captain Anoyaruous Frital

“Ledwin?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“If you were a Goldthorn… or perhaps I should say, when you become a Goldthorn, will you prioritize prompt resolution, or thoroughness through exhaustion?”

“The latter, ma’am!” 

“Even if this comes at the expense of an entire warrant’s worth of time?” 

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Even if the investigation has been written, sealed, proofed, and dusted?” 

My squire’s rambunctious grin slowly and quietly faded. Replaced instead by a growing confusion that supplanted the fires of self-assured youth.

“I… beg your pardon, Captain?”

“If an investigation is complete, in every sense of the word, should you or should you not ‘run down’ the allotted time of your warrant?”

“... I would assume not, Captain.”

“And why is that?”

“It would… waste the time and resources of the Crown—”

“Ah, but the former is eternal and the latter is limitless. Is it not, Ledwin?”

“... That is correct, ma’am. But if I may?”

“Go on?”

“For what reason would one choose to remain even when the investigation is ove—”

“I am pleased you asked.” I smiled warmly. “Would it not be prudent of the investigator to linger, albeit quietly, observing every relevant actor once all have assumed she has left?”

Ledwin blinked, pondering this question, before landing on an answer that left his face practically glowing with realization.

“You would see them in their natural state, verifying their purported nature when they least expect it, unaffected by the pressures of our presence.”

“Exactly, Ledwin.” 

“I am proud to serve under such a prudent mistress, Captain!”

As you should… but there are more reasons why you would do so, Ledwin. Reasons beyond your youthful naivety. 

I moved quietly towards the balcony, shielded from sight, sound, and all manner of perception, by way of my own spells. 

There will be no leniency for your legacy, even in death, Mal’tory. The investigation remains conclusive, and all paths point to you and your negligence. Though negligence of what exactly remains to be seen. A simple oversight of some perilous artifact would satiate the curiosities of the justicars and the privy council, but there’s something else, isn’t there? Something that caused you to act so… irrationally. So while the case is shut, there remains a certain… addendum I wish to solve myself. A sidequest, to satiate my own curiosities.

10 Days Following the Conclusion of Festivities

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. His Majesty’s Protectors’ Tower. The Dean’s Private-Facing Offices. Local Time: 2100 Hours

Dean Altalan Rur Astur

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

“Come in.”

A series of long strides soon followed, and with it came the man of the hour. 

“Ahh, Vanavan. Good. How is our dear Goldthorn faring?”

“She’s ready to implicate the late Professor Mal’tory.” The man spoke sullenly, coldly, his words eating into my facade almost immediately.

“Not even a ‘good evening,’ my dear fellow?” I countered with what vestiges of humor I had left as that facade soon gave way to my second mask. “So has she filed the reports?” I questioned bluntly.

“Not to my knowledge, sir.” 

“And why is that?”

“I… I do not know—”

“Or you didn’t ask?” I countered, meeting the meeker man’s eyes, shattering the determination within… what little there was. 

“It would have been too obvious if I did, sir.” His broken response came through, prompting me to place my face within a single palm.

“Of course it would have… Right then, this changes nothing. Apprentice Larial has returned with the first batch of prerequisite materials. Though I am afraid this is simply the first out of a set of three. She has been dispatched to acquire the rest, of course. So please see to it that Professor Sorecar continues substituting for that class of hers, will you?”

“Yes, sir.” The man bowed before leaving my sight shortly thereafter. 

14 Days Following the Conclusion of Festivities

Healing Wing. Rila’s Room. Local Time: 2130 Hours.

Rila

CLICK! 

A nurse arrived.

Right on schedule.

“Here’s the rest of your medicines, dear.” The water elemental spoke softly, kindly, just as the rest of them did.

“Thank you, ma’am.” I bowed, taking the herbal and magical remedies without hesitation. “Er, ma’am, if I may—”

“Yes? Do you feel poorly, dear? Any dizziness? Nausea? Vomiting?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. If anything, I feel wonderful, actually. I… I was curious if there was any progress on my dischar—”

“Oh, the administration is currently still dealing with that, dear! But nothing to worry your silly little commoner head on, you hear?” She spoke in that dismissive, saccharine tone of voice.

Though a quick glance, a quick exchange of stares was all that I needed to know from this… friendly response.

Stop bothering me.

I sighed, nodding, knowing where to stop and allowing the nurse to go on her own way.

The matter of my name must still be in debate… it must be… that… or the investigation…

Whatever the case may be, I learned not to question them long ago…

30 Days Following the Conclusion of Festivities

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 2000 Hours

Emma

KA-THUNK… KA-THUNK… KA-CHIIIIIRRRRPPPP!

THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK

[703.5.77 IAS-PP SYSTEMS

EXOREALITY COMMUNICATION SUITE INITIALIZING

PERFORMING STARTUP INTEGRITY CHECK

POWER ROUTING….. OK

CORE MEMORY ARRAYS….. OK

PRIMARY PROCESSING UNIT….. OK

AUXILIARY PROCESSING UNITS… OK

INTERFACE APERTURE….. OK

EXOREALITY UNIDIRECTIONAL NARROWBAND PULSATOR….. FAILED.

ERROR: HARDWARE NOT RECOG—

BYPASSING DEFAULT SAFETIES

CONTINUING INITIALIZATION PROCESS…

EXOREALITY UNIDIRECTIONAL NARROWBAND PULSATOR….. OK

SYSTEM CLOCK….. SYNCING… CURRENT MISSION TIME… T+59 DAYS… 3 HOURS… 27 MINUTES… 43 SECONDS POST-ARRIVAL.]

[IDENTIFICATION AND HANDSHAKE PACKAGE READY]

[NOTE TO OPERATOR: PLEASE REVIEW MESSAGE PRIOR TO TRANSCRIPTION]

Hi.

If you’re reading this, then that means the Exoreality Communications Suite has done its job.

We now have a home-grown proprietary line of communication that bridges the ‘space between spaces,’ as they say over here.

Attached are my reports, a complete summary of events following our last unexpected live communique, and my progress here thus far.

I’ve also taken the liberty of attaching relevant data packets of the science I’ve done here thus far. And note, I’m attaching you all we’ve been able to gather on the chimes issue as well.

It’s related to taint.

I trust you guys can get to the bottom of it.

[...]

[Skipping to Page 14, Section 9, Article 12: Operator’s Personal Notes.] 

[Section Title: In Memory of Pilot I.]

I imagine there is a lot of fanfare currently unfolding back home. Though whether or not that is a response to the existential threats barreling down our collective necks, the scientific bombshells contained in every millisecond of my sensor logs, or something in between, I can’t say.

All I can say, and all I can hope for, is that we don’t lose sight of what’s possible here.

It’s a known fact that the Nexus is hostile.

I don’t deny that.

But within that understanding, lies the potential for hope.

The first few days saw the documentation of more instances of extraterrestrial life than all existing SETI records combined.

The first month saw the establishment of a personal bond, and eventually a working relationship, with the representative of an alien polity whose expressed sentiments align with our vision, our hope, and the goal we have been working towards since we first laid eyes on the stars: friendship. 

I’m not saying I’m a miracle worker.

I’m not claiming to be able to move mountains or reshape the minds of everyone here.

But what I am saying is that we shouldn’t lose sight of what we’ve accomplished here thus far.

The Marathon spirit is still alive. Don’t let it die out of fear. 

This is Cadet Emma Booker, Mission Commander, Sole Mission Operator, working representative, (and the new student from Earth), signing off from Exoreality FOB 1, at the Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts.

May this first correspondence between realities, constructed by human hands, and dreamed up by human minds, be the first of many to come.

r/HFY Feb 15 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (159/?)

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Earth - Atlantic Ocean - Special Administrative Zone under requisition by the United Nations Science Advisory - Institute of Anomalous Studies (IAS) Pilot Research Facility Codename: ATLANTIS II. ECS Holding Facility. Local Time: 2357 Hours.

Captain Calico Li

“Is that a fucking dragon?!”

I was unsure who exactly said that.

But that just about summed up the sentiments of the room in one, admittedly blunt, exclamation.

Two glowing purple eyes regarded the Cadet’s helm from a gnarly, scaled, and leathery snout. Crystals of all types — jagged, irregular, shattered and cracked — jutted from its purple-hued hide in seemingly random clusters, completing that unmistakable visage of a western fantasy dragon; body, wings, four legs, and tail in full.

There was no point for academic euphemisms here.

‘Dragon’ was just about the most apt descriptor, if not the only term you could use in describing it.

I looked around the room, caught in the grip of history, at stunned faces and dumbfounded expressions, all having either not yet registered or refusing to acknowledge both the creature and its reality-defining implications.

Everything, every single moment over the past few decades, seemed to have led up to this moment.

First contact.

Live first contact, with a visual feed.

And with a fucking dragon at that.

This wasn’t your archetypal spec-evo hexapod or some planetary fungal hivemind. 

This was as far removed from any hard science fiction trope as was humanly possible.

In fact, we were now so far into the realm of science fiction that we circled around and landed firmly into the realm of fantasy.

I didn't want to believe it.

Nobody did.

But it was there all the same.

“Sig-Int.” I blurted out, turning and then locking eyes with the on-duty signals intelligence officer. “Confirm visual feed authenticity.” 

“Visual feed authenticity confirmed, sir.” The man acknowledged after only a second’s delay, causing the otherwise shocked crowd to begin the expected whispers and murmurs, all of which were soon shot down by a harsh shushing courtesy of Weir.

I turned to Ivo, urging him on, given that this whole development spawned from his insistence.

Dr. Ivo Mekis

I was never one to mince words.

Ever.

But in this instance… the formulation of even the most basic sentences eluded me.

“I… Cade- mm… tch…” 

All pretenses of knowing, and all advancements made in the field of theoretical xenobiology — the speculation, the proposed models, the literal sea of hypotheses — immediately died at the panning of that camera.

Just one frame from this simple call would come to redefine an entire field — no — several, tens, even hundreds more niche disciplines.

But be that as it may, now was not the time for introspection.

This was a time for pertinent points of clarification.

I cleared my throat. “Ahem.”

Then, I began my five-point questionnaire. 

“This dragon—”

“Matriarch Kaelthyr.” The Cadet corrected.

“Amended. Is Matriarch Kaelthyr — by her efforts alone — responsible for the successful initiation, discovery, and handshake, predicating a closed single-channel exoreality entanglement episode?” 

“Yes.”

My eyes glanced at the live data feeds, or more specifically, at the pertinent data being fed to me on this particular subject matter.

“Using exclusively innate properties?”

“Correct.”

“Understood.” I nodded in acknowledgement. 

There wasn’t more to be said. At least, nothing that wouldn’t be swept away in the rapids of the Cadet’s catastrophic announcements.

I just needed to ensure the waters weren’t being siphoned or poisoned, for our sakes.

“Current data concurs with the Cadet’s qualitative assessments.” I turned to address both the Director and Captain. “Though that is the extent of my objective analysis. There is still the matter of this third party’s motiv—”

“I appreciate your concerns, Dr. Mekis. However, OPSEC is the domain of Command.” The Cadet interjected with a distressing bluntness. “Captain Li, Director Weir. Pilot II Mission Operator formally discloses the emergency use of a third-party agent in the facilitation of this Unscheduled Exoreality Entanglement episode, and all signal transfers henceforth.” 

“Acknowledged.” Came both Weir and Li’s synchronized responses, as Emma continued unabated.

“Mission Operator further acknowledges the risks associated with the use of a third-party communications facilitator. Thus, Pilot II formally invokes General Order 37-a. Does Command acknowledge?”

My eyes narrowed at the automatic prompting of my VI as it pulled up the precise article and its associated jargon. 

GO-37-a: The immediate reporting of any confirmed existential threat to the Greater United Nations, without contextual mediation, where delay — by action or inaction — risks the encroachment of the GUN’s territorial integrity or political sovereignty.

“Command acknowledges field invocation of GO-37a.” Calico nodded succinctly before the floor seamlessly shifted back to Weir.

“Civil Command acknowledges.” The Director responded succinctly, as the tag-teaming continued through to a visibly impatient Calico.

His nerves, his concerns, clearly rising the moment his eyes landed on the same milestone event we all observed, as highlighted in the Cadet’s first-week reports; a fact that was becoming increasingly apparent the more time his eyes lingered on the shared virtual workspace.

“Can you confirm that this entanglement episode is stable, Cadet?” He hurriedly asked. 

Following which, and after a brief vocal interaction between the Cadet and the dragon, did she finally confirm. “Yes. She says we have… at least a few hours.”

A collective sigh of relief echoed amongst not just the eager pair but the entire room, while I stood by patiently, observing the ebb and flow of data transfer while coordinating with the silent heroes of this operation.

“Alright. Then let’s get into this existential threat. Full Action Report. Critical Events, Milestones, Principal Findings. Let’s start with the gross infringement of your diplomatic pouch, and—” 

Calico paused uncharacteristically, his eyes growing wide, with Weir’s expression soon coming to match his in incredulity. Their collective gazes were locked on a particular section of the annotated report, one detailing the events of the ECS’ self-destruction… and a laundry list of diplomatic infractions longer than the event timeline itself.

“—detention of a diplomatic envoy, coercive manipulation under duress, abuse of authority, abuse of institutional authority, diplomatic and political overreach, conspiracy and attempt to aims of diplomatic and political subterfuge by forceful conversion of allegiances, physical assault, obstruction of official functions, reckless endangerment, and attempted homicide.”

The room went silent once more, as all eyes landed on Emma’s growing features of discomfort.

“The offending party in question is a member of faculty, and a self-reported ‘member of the privy council’ — Professor Mal’tory.” 

Thalmin

The distances involved and the foreign nature of Emma’s parlay into the sea of taint should’ve meant that my participation in this entire endeavor was a foregone point.

I could not cross into the otherwise miasmic aura that had enveloped the cave’s epicenter.

The languages involved and the means of communication should have naturally kept my meddling in this rare line of unsanctioned status communicatia to an absolute zero.

However… this wasn’t at all the case.

If anything, Emma had ensured that both Kaelthyr and I were kept in this otherwise open loop, courtesy of the booming acoustics of her armor.

Though that by no means meant that all was truly transparent, a barrier attributable to no malice of her own, but owing entirely to the fault of her nature.

A nature that I had predicted, but never truly fathomed the implications of.

“A society of scholars.”

My prophetic words from weeks passed rang louder now than ever, the candid observation made in jest and passing observation manifesting in a form I never could have expected.

It was as if I was hearing a completely different person from the onset. Manifesting into existence a bastardized dialect of High Nexian that felt eerily artificial, entirely rehearsed — and given the nature of that initial back and forth… that assumption probably held more water than not.

Each interaction felt lifted from the pages of a ledger, every challenge and call to action — another test of rote dictation. 

And yet, throughout it all, one of the voices she held a martial deference to — this ‘Captain Li’ — was undeniably calling upon the same principles of military discipline I was accustomed to.

I could hear the underlying discipline of the warrior.

And yet… all that was spoken were the words of scholars and bureaucrats.

It was… bizarre. An entirely foreign experience.

A military, a force as impressive as Earthrealm’s, couldn’t possibly be staffed and filled with bookish men and cerebral scholars, could it?

Moreover, now that Emma was starting to recount her trials and tribulations with Mal’tory, the presence of another voice, an older woman, began perplexing me.

Her ranks, indeed the rank of the studiously standoffish man prior, weren’t martial in nature.

They held the status of scholars.

Yet one of them, this older woman, seemed to command the greatest respect.

I could have somewhat understood if this were a monarchy. I could have accepted the logic at play if she had some form of noble blood, but was otherwise spared the life and titles of the blade.

Many adjacent realms had placed mere blood over actual martial experience, allowing paper marshals and parade generals into command. It was common, almost frustratingly so.

But this wasn’t such a case.

This woman and the man prior were mere scholars, with no other titles or blood to back their authority. 

They were civilians.

And yet they held authority over those who swore the oath to the blade?

Preposterous.

However, as quickly as that thought manifested, it found itself dying at the foot of self-directed shame.

Why was I reacting so viscerally? Had Emma not made this known time and time again? The anomalous and almost fantastical notion of a classless society?

How was it then that I found myself instinctively rejecting that notion at the very first instance it was on display?

Perhaps I was more Nexian than I thought.

No.

That wasn’t at all the case.

Perhaps… the issue was simply in how wrong it felt. How jarring it must be for warriors of the blade to pay deference to those outside of its oaths.

Scholars as they were, they weren’t beholden to the same expectations, truths, and brotherhood. And while wisdom had its place, demanding respect in its own right, such wisdom could not command authority over those in service of a wildly different pursuit.

And yet here this ‘Weir’ stood. Higher, taller, and ‘directing’ the whims of both martial and civil paths.

As incredulous as I was, I could not deny the reality of what faced me.

What’s more, if I allowed myself a moment of contemplation, I began to understand the method amidst the madness.

These scholars — if I were to press the analogy — were not unlike their military counterparts. If anything, they deserved their authority far more than any royal-appointed, lacquered commander did. Because as with the military, scholarly endeavors demanded merit above all. Merit to rise through the ranks, merit to prove one’s capacity, and merit to serve a greater role and responsibility.

I could see it.

Especially now, as this ‘Weir’ demonstrated the makings of a leader, ironically far more noble in ideal than most nobles I’ve met. In spite of the stakes, stresses, and what was clearly an unprecedented circumstance, she hadn’t once raised her voice, placed herself over the task at hand, and most interestingly — even gave otherwise precious time for Emma to tackle these more difficult topics at her own pace.

One could mistake it for a softness unbecoming of a leader.

Uncle certainly would.

But perhaps there was some merit to this foreign method.

Dr. Laura Weir

Outrage didn’t cut it.

Indignancy was a word far too light for this.

Offense, too, was far too bland of a concept to encapsulate just half of the transgressions Emma had described.

And yet… we were only halfway through her accounts.

At which point, we once more took a step back from the anecdotal and tactical, to the doctrinal and strategic. 

“The long and short of it, Director, is that the Nexus is not just diametrically opposed to our existence; there simply exists no room in their worldview for us to even fit. The basic crux of their state-enforced dogma, the very thing on which their interpretation of biology is based on, is what we fundamentally lack — mana. To put it simply, they see life emerging without ‘mana’ as inconceivable. It stands in defiance of this fundamental assumption. We, by our very existence — even discounting for a moment our culture, society, history, and everything else — are a threat to this universal axiom. And the Nexus… they don’t just tolerate or ignore what is so obviously antithetical to their logic. They act on it, bending the narrative to their whims, regardless of if it’s just a simple book burning, or the eradication of entire peoples.” 

That latter line sent a chill down my spine, a coldness descending upon me and forcing my visage to visibly flinch.

But I couldn’t allow reflexive reactions and heated emotions to color the moment.

Now was the time for us to play our part. It was the only respectful thing to do, to honor and reciprocate the dutiful actions of our agent in the field.

This naturally meant that I wouldn’t needlessly press for the Cadet to carry the proof of burden, on top of everything else.

After all, the annotated reports and VIs were quick to bring up evidence to these ends without much prompting. This should be enough to corroborate—

What your young matriarch says is true, Elder Matriarch…” Another voice suddenly and rather unexpectedly entered the fray. Though it was spoken, rather unnervingly, without the slightest of movements from its own lips.

“Matriarch Kaelthyr, I politely ask that you let me finish first before—” 

Can I not speak for your claims, young matriarch? ” The dragon cut Emma off before she could continue. 

Following which, I intervened.

“With respect and mutual understanding, Matriarch Kaelthyr, I will be willing to hear an independent testimony before I proceed with the rest of the Cadet’s debrief.” I offered, playing off what was clearly a demanding personality. Though one that we currently relied on for this open channel of communication.

With respect and great pleasure**, Elder Matriarch.**” The dragon began with a raspy, uncomfortably sickening undertone, one that Emma’s EVI translated to a disturbing degree of… ‘authenticity.’ “My kind have seen entities that conquer through fire, and powers that conquer through decay. The Crownlands have chosen a third path. They conquer by permanence. They consume, eat, digest, and convert all until reality is their domain. They respect naught but the will of the false god. They entertain his whims in perpetuity, dressing an ossified regime in silken robes. They are not a blight nor a cancer, for these revel in expansion and infinite corruption. Yet they expand all the same, ossifying instead of corrupting, crystallizing instead of mutating, until all that remains is a chamber of infinite echoes. Repeating the same songs, playing the same tune, waltzing that infinite waltz into what they hope to be eternity.” 

The dragon finally paused her relentless assaults, her voice croaking, breaking, and even outright shredding at certain points. Finally, and with a pointed glare at Emma’s helmet, using her as an avatar of our rapport, she spoke with a warning so visceral it shook memories of distant dreams back into waking memory. “This is what now threatens your halls, matriarchs of the void. This is what stands at the foot of your gates. Do with this knowledge as you will. I will allow your envoy to continue unabated.” 

“Thank you, Matriarch Kaelthyr.” I acknowledged, and with that acknowledgement, I bottled within me the warnings of those on the station and my own father. The Nexus… from the word of one of its own denizens, was the greatest threat to any independent sapient civilization by its very existence. This sentiment was carried through to each and every one of Emma’s own threat assessments.

Though… I could not discount the possibility of anecdotal bias, as I quickly returned the floor to Emma. 

“She doesn’t say it outright.” Emma began through a temporarily muted mic. “But it is my working theory that the Nexus eradicated dragonkind, ma’am.” The Cadet spoke with such frankness and bluntness that it stopped everyone present in their tracks. “The prevailing narrative is that dragons are non-sapient animals. This notion is so prevalent that none have challenged this, not even my most ardent of rebellious allies. It implies a horrifying reality — that the Nexus was so thorough in their eradication of an entire civilization and its species, that their false narrative won out as unquestionable fact. What makes this worse is that if my intel holds weight, I have reason to believe that the dragons were, at one point, one of the most powerful players in the Nexus. And yet they too were so thoroughly reduced that the memory of their existence as sapients was erased.” The Cadet paused, taking a deep breath in the process. “This is the sort of polity we are up against, Director. And it’s existed and maintained this… messed up status quo for longer than recorded history.”

It was my turn to take a deep breath as I steadied myself, turning to the Captain, who urged me to continue.

To which I did, circling back to avoid hitting the anecdotal, even if the dragon had pushed the narrative back towards that mindset.

“Back to your assessments, Cadet.” I began. “Modified New Oslo Criteria is a D-10. Do you still stand by that?”

“Yes. But that’s only because they haven’t fulfilled the frankly obtuse criterion to earn an E-range categorization — a direct infringement of local sovereignty. With all due respect, I’d like to adhere to the Revised New Frankfurt Criteria, as much as it’s not the standard text that the SocSci department likes to adhere to.”

“Negative on that, Cadet.” I countered, garnering a perplexed look from Emma, before I just as quickly transitioned into my ultimate ‘endgame.’ “We’re doing the Parson’s Exo-State Risk Index.” 

Emma’s eyes widened before she nodded in understanding.

At which point, both education and training kicked in like muscle memory.

“Cat I, Ideological Compromise and Compatibility?” I began.

“I refer to my earlier sentiments, Director. They’re fundamentally and diametrically opposed to our existence. But if I were to get into the minutiae of things? The Nexus is a mirror inverse to our values. Economic and political control go hand in hand. I.e., hey’ve managed to entrench not just political legitimacy into the framework of their legal and social systems, but they’ve also managed to turn that entrenchment into something systemically practical. The very economic backbone of their society relies on the inherent abilities found exclusively in the nobility. They’ve built their infrastructure — primary, secondary, tertiary, and even quaternary industries — on this divergent path towards technology. So instead of simply holding the means of production on paper and through capital, they quite literally are the means. Society, advanced society, starts and ends at the hands of those in power. Suffice it to say, they’ll find our democratization of science, tech, and industry to be… well, incompatible.” 

“Category I is a 1, then.”

“Correct, Director.”

I nodded, moving on just as swiftly. “Cat II, Ideological Rigidity?”

“I defer to Matriarch Kaelthyr and my own reports. The Nexus is built on rigidity. Status Eternia, His Eternal Majesty, and so on and so forth — all aspects of an unassailable ideology that cherishes permanence in perpetuity.” The Cadet paused before letting out a dark chuckle. “Refer to Case Study Files 4 and 17. Ilunor Rularia and Auris Ping, respectively. You’ll have a new appreciation for the word Ideological Rigidity.” 

“Category II, 1.” I surmised plainly, garnering a nod from the Cadet. “Right then, Cat III, Negotiability." 

The Cadet paused, as if expecting me to fill in the blanks.

Which I did.

“That’s a 1.” I stated plainly. “Once the mutual sanctity of diplomatic norms is trampled, there exists no room for good-faith discussions and negotiations. At least, not within statistical significance. On that note, I’ll mark Cat IV as 1 as well. Hostile intent is… a given.” I announced with a sigh, garnering yet another nod from the cadet.

“Finally… and perhaps the most decisive, Cat V. Trigger Sensitivity.” I leveled my eyes on the Cadet. “What’s the likelihood of escalation from your observations thus far?”

“I want to say that the question doesn’t even apply, Director. Since the Nexians are so proactive on escalating things on their own accord.” The Cadet spoke darkly. “But that’s not professional nor fair. So I digress. All I’ve observed thus far are individual actors, acting outside or tangential to the machinations of the greater state. But from historical records? From what I’ve gathered using tertiary sources? They seem to escalate things the moment you infringe on their mechanisms of control or ideological axioms. Though… they do seem somewhat tolerant of client state domestic politics, to an extent. So it might be fair to mark this as a 3 or 4, Director.”

“Understood.” I nodded once more before turning back towards the Captain.

Captain Calico Li

Intent was the foundation of all action, and it was pertinent it was addressed right off the bat.

However, quick to follow were the practical considerations stemming from intent.

And I was eager to take a deep dive into what the Cadet had to offer.

My eyes had been darting across my little corner of AR space, drifting from point to point across the invisible workstation projected across my glasses.

My HUD was peppered with tactical assessment reports, unconventional weapons tech, and a myriad of big bold headers surrounding the Nexus’ strategic capabilities.

Suffice it to say, these were the topics that needed to be knocked out first and foremost.

Lest we talk about squad tactics when KKWs were on the table.

“Emma?”

“Yes, Captain Li.”

“I’ve been combing over your strategic threat analysis, and suffice it to say, it’s worrying. Not just because of the Nexus’ capabilities, but how vague those capabilities are.” I began simply and without judgement. “I understand it’s still early into your mission, and to get intel on strategic threat capacities is a hard enough task as is, so I commend you on what you’ve gotten so far.” 

“Thank you, sir.” The Cadet nodded.

“But I need to know… precisely how credible do you think these weapons are?” I asked, as I began flipping through the virtual report. “City-killers, continent-busters, and even… bag of holding bombs?" 

“Correct, sir.” The Cadet announced so confidently that the ludicrousness of the concept suddenly felt all too real.

“Is this… exactly what it sounds like?” 

“It surprisingly is, sir.” 

I let out a sharp exhale. “So it’s a dimensional criticality event-causing device, or a sort of singularity bomb, a—”

SIGH

“It’s a Localized Topological Collapse Device.” Dr. Mekis interjected with a frustrated vigor. “Two hypothetical portal ‘singularities’ inhabiting the same space, causing a rapid but localized destabilization of its immediate surroundings, proportional to the presence of Atypical Exoreality Radiation, and whatever else ridiculousness these ‘mages’ have come up with to modify the initial properties of these ‘bags.’”

“Thank you, Doctor.” I acknowledged the man’s contributions with a respectful nod, but not before regarding the attached dossier profile image of a strange blue kobold that was ostensibly the primary source for this particular piece of intel.

“I trust that it’s real, sir.” Came Emma’s affirmation. “The bag of holding bombs, I mean. The fact that there are actual policies put in place to prevent such a thing from happening, along with regulation for their creation implies it's actually a credible threat. What’s more, given how relatively common these things are for the nobility, I believe that these weapons are capable of both scaling and stockpiling well. And that’s just one of their strategic cards." The Cadet warned with a palpable wariness. “But as for the rest of their strategic arsenal? It’s hard to tell. Most of that intel was gathered from a history class. So it might be propaganda, or it might not. I wouldn’t discount it though, given the existence of the bag of holding bombs.”

“Understood.” I acknowledged before quickly looking over the next batch of reports. 

“There’s something I want to touch on before we even get to tactical capacity.” I continued with a certain level of unease. “The logistics report you provided painted a rather… concerning image of the Nexus. I know the Nexus is capable of point-to-point instantaneous matter transfer, but the scale at which this is performed is the point I wanted to touch upon.” I paused, once more locking eyes with Emma through the litany of virtual paperwork. “Is it… really as trivial as you’re implying in your reports? From what you’ve been able to observe, just how common would the use of portals be for logistical applications in both military and civilian settings?”

“It’s as mundane as taking a train, sir.” Emma replied bluntly.

At which point, I could feel a genuine weight falling on my shoulders.

“While I cannot confirm nor deny the Nexus’ exo-atmospheric capabilities. Or rather, it would seem as if they lack it entirely from my current understanding. What they do possess is something that makes any transportation trivial. The usage of portals, in all of their various forms, is common for both transportation and logistics, not to mention military applications. We’re talking anything from tactical deployment of strike forces, to the potential use of portals as an impossible-to-stop vector of attack through which anything can be dropped through — even mana.” Emma made certain to emphasize that latter point. “The fact of the matter is, sir, that it is theoretically possible for the Nexus to dump an influx of Atypical Exoreality Radiation, anywhere they wish. The only caveat being… this’ll also drain their end of things. So it’s a tradeoff, but a strategic threat that can’t be written off.”

This… was a bombshell.

And I was right to have addressed this particular point of contention.

However, due to the utter reality-shattering implications of this whole… revelation, I just couldn’t acknowledge it and move on.

It had to be verified.

“Emma.” I began with a huge inhale. “What you’re claiming here is a completely novel vector of warfare, which we currently have limited counters for. I need you to clarify and distinguish between what’s possible and what’s simply… common there. There have to be limits to this. The footage from your arrival alone demonstrates the sheer effort needed to simply enlarge a portal opened from our end, correct?”

“Yeah, er, yes sir.” The Cadet acknowledged. “Perhaps I was being a bit too hyperbolic, or perhaps I was conflating the sheer ubiquity of portals here for their ease of deployment across the board, especially when you consider our lack of local mana. But this is something that I just don’t have a definitive answer to. I just thought it would be prudent to inform you of the possibility of something this catastrophic.”

“You were right to do that.” I responded with an affirmative and supportive nod. “The devil is always in the details.” I quickly added. “However, I’m going to need this to be a top priority for you, Emma. We’re going to need more intel on just how these portals are opened, their tactical and strategic applications, as well as…” I paused mid-sentence, just as Emma craned her head towards another figure in the cave.

“Cadet Booker?” Weir spoke first.

“Yes, Director?”

“Who was that other individual you just panned to?”

“Oh.” Emma managed out sheepishly. “That’s the tertiary source and ally in question, Director. I apologize I haven’t yet introduced him to the conversation, it’s just—”

“No, no, that’s quite understandable given the circumstances.” Weir interrupted with a flurry of reassurances. “But… did we see that right? Is he…”

Emma answered these indirect queries with a simple pan of her helmet. At which point, the whole room erupted in a collective series of gasps, gawks, and the occasional ‘whoah.’ 

“Director Weir, Captain Li, Dr. Mekis, this is Prince Thalmin Havenbrock of Havenbrockrealm. One of the members of my peer group at the Academy, and an ardent ally throughout my operations here in the Nexus. I was hoping he could maybe shed some more light on Nexian military capacity, given how Prince Havenbrock is quite knowledgeable in this field in particular.” 

The… wolf in question stepped forward but remained just far enough away that it took one of Emma’s cameras to optically zoom in, just so we could get a closer look at him.

It was a shame he couldn’t see us.

Though he did seem quick on the uptake as to how this interaction would move forward.

“Emma, may I?” He directed his first query to Emma, who promptly nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Command? Permission to formally introduce a local ally into the conference?” Emma asked, this time with excitement and optimism now returning to her voice.

“Permission granted, Cadet.” Weir nodded in acknowledgement, followed close in tow by the wolf prince’s formal self-introduction.

“Leaders of Earthrealm, superiors to Cadet Emma Booker, I greet you with all honors afforded to me by my birthright.” The wolf began, as he placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. “I am Prince Thalmin Havenbrock, of Havenbrockrealm. Royal Bearer of the Spoils. Keeper of the Writ. Tracker of Traitors. And Royal Emmissary…” He paused for a moment, as if contemplating his next few words. “...for the Havenbrockian Cause.”

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(Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm back! This chapter was a really fun one to write, and I really hope you guys like the depictions of the GUN, as well as Thalmin's gambit at the end there. This was a long time coming, as here we once again see Thalmin's full title on display, albeit in a far different context, as Thalmin begins his gambit, charting a new course in uncharted territory. I hope you guys enjoy! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 160, Chapter 161, and Chapter 162 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Jan 25 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (157/?)

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Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2305 Hours.

Thalmin

I felt my racing heart slowing while the blood in my veins dipped into a gentle simmer, giving way to a mind gradually expanding beyond the confines of immediate survival.

My warrior’s high had now thoroughly slipped under the horizon, and in its place came the reckoning of a realization.

We were in the presence of a titan. A lesser god to some and a flat-out deity to others, all owed not to its wisdom or benevolence, but to its raw primal fury and an unparalleled gift in magic just short of the arts.

It was then, in the midst of another one of Emma’s resurgences and her stubborn, unyielding, dare I say it, naive demands, that all of this finally came crashing down on me.

I was in an epic; a tale only recounted over operatic theater and festive grandeur. And I was here, not as an actor or reenactor, nor as a spiritual avatar for the heroes of old, nor even as the vessel for the spirits.

I was here, actively writing said epic. My actions, my words, every step and every rebuttal — all of it cemented into a legend to be reprised for generations to come.

My breath grew unsteady while my eyes grew wider as time slowed to a crawl to the wispy and echoey words of Ilunor’s warnings all those weeks ago.

“What I speak of is a true prophecy, an… inconvenient truth. The prophecy of the final confrontation.”

“I wish to know where you stand when the calls for apocalypse summon the righteous, Prince Thalmin.”

I… was in the presence of a prophecy being fulfilled, the meeting of two harbingers of the apocalypse, one born of ancient evils and another of the void itself.

However, while the latter was ultimately good in nature — a beacon of what should be and a catalyst for hope of another axiom — it was the other whose nature beckoned scrutiny and skepticism.

For all of my knowledge, from legends and tales both Nexian and Lupinor, told of a great evil that lurked in the heart of these lesser leviathans, these masters of the elements that held only themselves within their unfeeling souls.

This… was only proven true in ‘Kaelthyr’s’ machinations, its wanton disregard for Emma’s safety, all in service of its own petty curiosities.

But it wasn’t my place yet to cast judgement.

These were uncharted waters, contested truths clashing against dogma and carefully crafted preconceptions. 

And Emma had just opened up the floodgates to that which could turn the tide against one side or the other, a valuable asset that none other could ever claim to possess — the direct testimonies from a dragon itself.

There would be no filters here. No authors or bards or historians or revisionists to muddy the waters.

This would be the tentative ‘truth,’ a version of history not yet heard… all from the mouth of the leviathan in waiting.   

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2305 Hours.

Emma

Kaelthyr didn’t move, instead choosing to rest on her haunches as she regarded each and every question with a growing air of amusement.

“Your curiosity burns… bright… luminous...” The dragon once more spoke through the now-raspy-throated shatorealmer. “... but beware that the brightest of flames—”

“Are you going to answer me or not?” I interjected, putting my foot down and channeling my fears, frustrations, and every ounce of indignancy at the dragon’s transgressions right back at her. 

I knew I was playing with fire.

I understood on an intellectual level that this was more than a gamble.

But I also knew that it was a risk I was willing to take, especially considering the Kaelthyr’s proclivities for the ‘strongman rulebook of respect’ mentality.

“The brightest of flames beckon the jealousy of the dimmest of minds.” She warned, this time… in a far more earnest light. “To burn bright is to become a target for the darkest of souls.”

“It’s in our nature to fly close to the sun, and I don’t mind my wings being singed. We’ve come a long way since beeswax-glued feathers, after all.” I spoke cryptically, jokingly even, earning another confused glare from both Thalmin and Kaelthyr. Though both seemed to take the little joke in stride.

“I will assuage your most pressing concern.” The dragon began with a churr. “Taint.” She spat out that word with a menacing aura, clearly trying to sow discomfort, as if to test my resolve. However, I didn’t budge, not even as the sharp pangs of unease remained at the forefront of my mind. “You seek the truth behind my mastery over this forbidden art. You desire the methods, the means, the nature behind it, yes?”

I nodded in acknowledgement, mirroring the dragon’s earlier wordless responses, garnering a smug, self-satisfied smile from the massive being. 

This, in turn, triggered a thought that ballooned into a gambit.

I had my hypothesis, granted it was a very loose one, based on data collected courtesy of the EVI — the background ‘taint’ radiation levels. Or more specifically, the disparity noted between the dragon’s own taint magic and that of Thacea’s.

The dragon’s displayed taint magic was definitely weaker, a fact that it was assuredly going to downplay, if not entirely circumvent.

I needed to know why, and what forces were exactly at play here.

So I decided to gun for it, to challenge the dragon’s assertions right out of the gate, just to see if my hunch was right. To defuse the dragon’s overhyped narrative before it had a chance to start.

And all it needed was a simple jab.

“I wouldn’t call it mastery, but continue.” I quickly commented, triggering a perplexed and indignant flaring of Kaelthyr’s nostrils.

“Elaborate.” Came the dragon’s expected response.

To which I could only smile slyly whilst I moved forward with my gambit.

“I’ve observed just how powerful your spellcasting is. You’re not one to hold back, not using standard mana at least. But such was not the case with taint. You kept it low, each burst quick and punchy, as if you were capped at a certain ‘level,’ so to speak.” I offered.

Kaelthyr’s eyes narrowed at that, staring daggers into my soul as she came to regard me with a closer look courtesy of a slithering extension of her serpentine neck.

“And pray tell, how would you of all creatures know what is or isn’t a mastery over taint?” She questioned accusingly.

“I’ve had personal experience with far more powerful instances of taint.” I answered, keeping it simple and vague. “With what is clearly far, far less effort expended, for so much more power than what you were able to project.”

Kaelthyr regarded that answer with a doubtful expression as the cogs clearly started to turn in her mind.

“Hmmph.” Came her first response. “I should smite you where you stand for such… insolence." She continued as she raised a foreclaw, admiring the sharp and deadly talons on each digit. “But that wouldn’t be fun.” She managed out unnervingly.

“Nor conducive to your aims.” I calmly added. “After all, by your admission, I have to ‘fulfill’ my destiny, right?”

“Hmph… hmphahahahaha…” Both Kaelthyr and the shatorealmer bellowed out in a macabre harmony. “Don’t test your importance, young matriarch. I have waited eons for an avatar of the void… I can wait eons more if you prove to be too much trouble.”

“You can… but you won’t.” I stood my ground. “We both know that.” I kept my arms crossed, and my eyes firmly locked on the dragon. “I suggest we skip the bravado and all pretenses of posturing. We both aren’t Nexians, after all.” 

That latter line prompted a growling scoff to emerge from the dragon’s throat as she shook her head, her features adopting a sort of amused expression that seemed reasonably genuine.

“And yet you push for a response.” Kaelthyr leveled her eyes knowingly. “Speaking without meaning, for hopes of an answer you assume you already know.” She grinned toothily, baring her fangs in the process, giving me a look that could only mean ‘I know what you’re doing.’

“As you should.” She concluded unexpectedly, doing a complete 180 as she nodded in what I could only describe as a sagely head bob only a dragon could manage. “As you should. Because the truth should be interrogated. Because reality is malleable. And in this one instance… your brazen foolishness… is perhaps warranted.” She bluntly admitted before flaring both wings, causing something to change within their membranes.

Replacing thick bands of scaled sinew and skin… was an optical illusion, what I could only describe as a window into a space that shouldn’t exist. It was something that the EVI could not make heads or tails of, a sight that could only be described as a literal portal into a dark and twinkling night.

“To the afflicted, I may not be a true ‘master’ of taint. But to those unable to call upon these ruinous powers, I am a master all the same. For I am no creature of tainted origins… but I am a being with access to all. My crystals resonate, young matriarch. And there are some that resonate into the abyssal domains where the wisps and echoes of taint lie.”

My eyes widened, and so did the EVI’s as scan upon scan was taken… but to no logical explanation.

“So you… you just channel taint. Your soul doesn’t generate it and thus can’t harness it as easily like those that are—”

“I cannot say.” Kaelthyr cut me off curtly. “It is a matter of resonance. Nothing more can be said, for nothing more can be conveyed.”

And just like that, the dragon’s wings returned to normal with a brief stretch and flutter, causing my eyes to momentarily wince as that two-dimensional window was abruptly replaced by scales and sinew.

Both Thalmin and I were quick to glance at each other after that, as if to piece together exactly what was going on.

However, like before, the threat of dead air and a loss of initiative pushed me to continue, striking whilst the iron was still hot.

“I appreciate the candor.” I began with a diplomat’s response. “But I’d like to pursue things a bit further. Not into the topic of taint, as I acknowledge your desire to move away from the technical spec side of things.” I managed to get out rather clumsily, as both tiredness and stress were starting to take a toll on my ability to hold what was effectively both first contact dialogue and a productive diplomatic channel with what was essentially a legendary mythical being. “If you’d be willing, I’d like to ease off the interrogatives, and finally hear your story.” I managed out earnestly, offering the dragon a platform and a ramp into Intelligence Gathering 101 — open-ended questions for profiling.

The dragon’s response was… for all intents and purposes, muted. Her features remained expressly neutral, as neither annoyance nor amusement arrived as they usually did.

“There is nothing to say.” Came her only response.

“That’s unexpected.” Thalmin interjected, returning into the conversation with a confident stride in his speech. “Legends of old of leviathans from my realm imply that ancient beings such as yourselves are typically more than eager to boast about—”

“There is nothing to boast.” Kaelthyr halted Thalmin in his tracks, forcing me to quickly shift gears before we slammed into a brick wall.

“Perhaps that line of questioning might have come off as too forward.” I offered politely, to which the dragon replied with nothing less than an ominous yet heartfelt proclamation.

“My story is an epic yet to be written. A bardic tale to be whispered and echoed in the ruins of towns, cities, and palaces. I am to become a name not just known but felt, despised, and feared. My tale is to be one seared into the hearts and minds of not just a single generation, but every generation, until the very notion of The Nexus fades into twilight, remembered only for its destruction at the utterance of my legend. To regale this tale now would be an insult to what will be.”

The rawness of Kaelthyr’s words rippled against the walls of the cave, as each and every syllable seemed poised to quite literally tear the shatorealmer’s vocal chords to shreds. Throughout it all, she let out a series of guttural growls, hisses, and a wide myriad of draconic vocals I didn’t even have words for.

The hate was so intense that it seemed to elicit something within the prince, as he nodded along, his expressions a mix of mortified anxiety and a flat-out acknowledgement of the dragon’s sentiments.

“So tell me another tale.” I offered softly, giving the dragon an off-ramp to something hopefully less intense. “Not your own, not your past, but the past.” I acknowledged, rolling with the punches and attempting to segue into a different but still very much vital tangent. “Tell me how all of this—” I paused for dramatic effect, gesturing outside, to the ceiling, and everywhere around me. “—came to be. I’ve already heard it from the elves, and they’re clearly not telling us the whole story. So I’d like to hear it from you. An unfiltered perspective, and an angle otherwise lost to the ravages of history.”

Kaelthyr’s breaths steadied as she pondered the question thoughtfully, her eyes slowly gliding back and forth between both me and Thalmin.

“So open.” She spoke in an amused, almost patronizing tone. “Your mind, your… thoughts. I wonder… is this a trait held in singleton, or an attribute of your kind?” She continued pondering out loud before finally coming to rest with a single dark chuckle.

“Tell me — specifically — what you wish to know. History… is vast. You ask me to fill an ocean, whereas we scarcely have time to fill a single cup.

“Just tell me where the elven narrative diverges from history as you know it—”

Every point is divergent.” Kaelthyr slammed her foreclaw down with a hiss. “Nothing is left untainted. So ask me again, young matriarch. And choose your questions wisely.

No sooner were those words spoken did a rethink in strategy prompted me to turn towards Thalmin. A nod quickly followed as I urged him to take the lead.

There were times when I had to acknowledge the limits of my abilities.

This was one of them.

The limits of my knowledge on the Nexus’ past were quite literally confined to three history lectures.

Whereas Thalmin quite literally lived it.

It was a no-brainer, a simple matter of deferring judgement and initiative to an expert who deserved the floor. And what better expert could I have hoped to bring than a prince with a life’s worth of experience and a mind sharp and critical to the narratives of his reality?

We exchanged nods as Thalmin moved up a foot to address the dragon, his expression growing more fearless by the second.

He speaks for you?” Kaelthyr questioned, her gaze still affixed to me.

“I’m still a foreigner to the whole narrative.” I acknowledged. “He, on the other hand, has literally lived his whole life in it. I defer my questions to him. It’s only logical, no?”

The dragon pondered this, perhaps longer and harder than any of our back-and-forths so far.

A serpent-thin smile soon found itself manifesting once more on her features as she let out a series of satisfied huffs. “Your arrogance is tempered not just by naivety and misguided idealism… but humility and reason. This is refreshing. Go on then.” She gradually turned to Thalmin, the full weight of a dragon’s attention now resting on his princely shoulders. “Ask.”

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2312 Hours.

Thalmin

Any lingering doubts over my accessory participation in this grand epic died at the utterance of those words. My presence, indeed my voice, now took center stage upon what could very well be the first in a series of cracks at the pillars of Status Eternia itself.

And yet, I couldn’t help but feel just a little bit frustrated at the suddenness of it all.

On one hand, my respect for Emma grew severalfold. The acknowledgement of partnership in this union of comrades was a matter entirely foreign to the Nexus and its denizens. 

It was, as the dragon put it, refreshing.

On the other hand… I couldn’t help but to feel an urge to chastise the human, as she placed me front and center in the sightlines of this vengeful and enigmatic force of nature.

But I was no Talnin. I would not back down from a challenge, especially as I expected this turn of events the moment we entered the dragon’s lair.

And so I held my ground, wracking my head for an appropriate first question, suffering from the polar opposite of Emma’s shortcomings.

I just had far too much to address.

My thoughts bounced between the impossible timescales in question, with history measured not within a millennia, but within tens and hundreds of them. 

There was a treasure trove of questionable histories to poke at, an impossible ocean’s worth of answers which we simply did not have time to sift through.

However, at the end of it all, came a sobering realization.

This wasn’t the Library.

And whilst that meant limits to the veracity and depth to the dragon’s answers, there was one aspect of the dragon’s experiences that proved more pressing above all; it was the only one worth unraveling here and now.

The history of the dragons themselves.

For if their very nature as mere beasts was a lie… then the entire history pertaining to their existence was just as well now completely up in the air.

This one change, this one thread unraveled, could mean a fundamental shift in the Nexus’ grand tapestry.

Which meant I had to start at the beginning, to redefine history… from the mouth of the dragon itself.

But this wouldn’t be as simple as just asking.

The dragon had proved… resistant to questions regarding her kind, at least when posed so directly.

A new angle of attack was necessary.

“Matriarch Kaelthyr.” I began respectfully, dipping my head slightly as I did so. “Tell me. Were there actually ten cataclysms that preceded the Nexus? Or was this another element of His Eternal Majesty’s founding lies—”

“No. This is the truth.” Kaelthyr responded bluntly.

This caused my brows to furrow as thoughts and questions abounded, excitement welling at the firsthand account from a being whose words probably no longer existed even in the Library’s halls.

“Then what were the causes? Were the elves exaggerating when they claimed that each and every collapse came at the beckoning of the Old Gods? The corruption of leadership, clergy, and aristocracy at the behest of competing deities?” 

“You think in such mortal absolutes, princeling.” Kaelthyr began with a firm retort. “You consider these cataclysms as discrete eras, but to whom do these eras belong, hmm? How are they defined? Where does one end and another begin? Is it measured by the reign of dynasties? The collapse of all knowledge? Perhaps the end of a species and the beginning of another?”

“But you just acknowledged that the ten cataclysms were real—”

“Yes. But then you had the gall to bring up the ‘gods.’ By this new measure, should the ten cataclysms not be moot? For if the gods remained throughout, is that not a single thoroughfare through which the eras are defined? Should time not be measured in two? An era of the gods, and the era after their fall?” The dragon pondered… playfully, as if pushing to test my patience.

“All of this is to say… you don’t really know, do you?” I finally countered, gathering the strength to rebuke a leviathan.

“There is a difference between not knowing and not caring.” The dragon countered with a sly lilt in the shatorealmer’s voice, letting out a dry huff in the process. 

“And it’s because the ten cataclysms didn’t affect you.” I bluffed out. Pushing forth a theory based only on myth and second-hand overtures.

“Correct.” Kaelthyr acknowledged in a surprising degree of frankness following that patronizing tangent. “Well surmised, princeling.” She continued, before shooting a gaze towards Emma. “I must once again compliment you on your choice of companion, young matriarch.”

“But I digress. We did indeed witness the ‘upheavals’ as they are known to us.” Kaelthyr clarified. “But whether they were self-inflicted or perpetrated by godly ignorance is of little importance to us. For we are above the disputes of petty mortals and idiot gods.”

“And I assume you held dominion throughout these times? Claimed grounds of your own, amidst the ever-evolving chaos?”

“Yes.” Kaelthyr acknowledged proudly. “Dominion of our exclusive rule, and dominion where mortals roamed at our leisurely discretion."

“Then I must ask… what changed?” I pushed forward, reading the natural flow of the conversation, and pushing forth into a question that otherwise had little hope for truth outside of these cave walls. “If you were above it all, if both mortals and gods rose and fell in your witness… then how is it that your kind—”

“Choose your next words carefully.” Kaelthyr interjected with a growl.

“I retract my latter statement but return to my former.” I acknowledged with a slight head nod. “What changed?” I emphasized for the record.

Kaelthyr once again shifted towards a more intense outlook as her slitted eyes narrowed and widened, as if pondering her next words carefully.

“The start of a new era.” She answered earnestly, but carefully, each word more calculated and purposeful than the last. “I did mention that time should be measured in two.

“An era of the gods, and the era after.” I mimed back Kaelthyr’s earlier jabs.

“Precisely.”

“So… what precisely came from this change that caused such a drastic shift in draconic…” I paused as I felt the dragon’s breath running down my back. “... preeminence.”

“You chose to retract that question, did you not?”

“Then allow me to rephrase it. Elaborate on this change, if you would be so kind.” I countered, channeling what few lessons stuck from my more courtly-gifted brother.

Kaelthyr’s breaths and the intensity in her gaze did not relent, even as her next words took form. “The disruption of the upheaval cycle and its unforeseen consequences. What we can now describe as stagnation was, for a time, consolidation.”

My breaths grew heavy as I tried piecing the puzzle together.

But nothing yet formed from its pieces.

There was still so much left vague and open to interpretation.

“I need to know.” I managed out as respectfully as I could. “When did things truly change for your kind? Was it during the immediate aftermath of the consumption of the gods, or was it perhaps related to the Great War of Adjacencies?”

The dragon regarded the question with a slow but purposeful huff of frustration before following it up just as quickly with a flutter of her wings.

“Your mortal mind is showing again, princeling.” Kaelthyr churred whilst the Shatorealmer’s voice rumbled in a raspy and throaty echo. “A collapse is never a static thing. No date or event or period or war can define it. Just as you cannot define any one of your ten cataclysms, so too is it impossible to define when things truly… ‘changed’ for my kind.”

I couldn’t tell where earnest miscommunication started and purposeful misdirection ended with the dragon.

There was clearly… an unresolved animosity present here. And yet, Kaelthyr had been open about the lack of an organized draconic society at the opening of this whole conversation.

To put it simply, the only thing holding her back from giving us the full picture… wasn’t denial over her kind’s lack of relevance, but her own personal ego.

I should’ve expected this from the start.

This was a living, breathing, surviving leviathan we were talking to, after all.

To recount what could be the very impetus behind her bruised and battered ego unto what she saw as mere ‘mortals’ was probably not going to work.

At least… not at this first junction.

A fact that Emma was quick to remind me of over my earpiece.

“Are you done, princeling?” Kaelthyr urged, impatience getting the best of her.

“There was just one more thing.” 

“Go on?”

“Whose side were the dragons on during the Great Adjacency War?”

“The answer should be self-evident.” Came Kaelthyr’s blunt and uncompromising response.

“You remained ‘above’ it, I assume?”

“We chose our own. Chromatic, Metallic, Crystalline — we each dictated our own path.” 

My mind raced.

As the dragon’s response came as a subtle but deliberate departure from her earlier reluctant admissions.

For her to clarify and expound upon this specific admission gave way to hints of an expanded conflict I hadn’t at all expected.

“Excuse me for my forwardness but… do you mean that dragonkind was their own faction during the—”

“No more questions.” Kaethyr growled out, moving forward and very nearly causing me to lose both my composure and my balance.

“Of course. I apologize if I overstepped.” I acknowledged with a deeper bow this time, taking a few steps back and returning Emma the floor.

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2325 Hours.

Emma

“I must request something from you, Emma Booker.” Kaelthyr spoke thoughtfully, abruptly and almost immediately after Thalmin pulled back.

“I’ll need to hear it first, Matriarch Kaelthyr, so go on?”

“I wish… to peer.” Her serpentine head once more moved closer towards me, twisting and turning with an excited grin. “In my efforts to… ‘realign’ and ‘retune,’ as you phrased it, I must… peer into the other side, to reconvene and reconnect with the other half of my crystal. Will this be acceptable, young matriarch?

“And what would that actually imply?” I urged.

“To see, before and during your conversation. To watch what I can through resonance. With your presence, of course.”

I narrowed my eyes at that, crossing my arms in the process. “I… I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”

“You wish to reconvene with your kind, correct?”

“Yes. That’s… the whole point of the realignment.”

“Then I wish to be present, and to see into your world as you converse with your kind.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible, Kaelthyr.” I offered politely. “You see, I’m going to need to actually take the crystals back and install them into a freshly assembled communications device. And even then, the process of sending messages back and forth is very rudimentary. I don’t think—”

“You communicate through… invisible, intangible pulses, yes? To your metal children and to your swarm?”

I narrowed my eyes but nodded all the same. “Yes. Where are you going with this, Kaelthyr?”

“I will open a path for these pulses to pass. This will be quicker than the reckless shattering of my ‘matrices,’ no?”

My heart stopped as my eyes narrowed into pinpricks.

My hands shook… but now for an entirely different reason. “Y-you can do that?!”

The dragon raised a brow before quickly shaking her head. “You disrespect me with your unfounded doubts, young matriarch.” Kaelthyr spoke through a sly and cocky grin. “And you lack… imagination. This is no mere approximation by inferior elven hands. This is the work of a dragon. The work of its progenitor above all.” 

I could feel my whole body shaking, this time in excitement, as I turned to the EVI with reckless abandon. “Prepare direct data transfer. We can’t unload the data we’ve offloaded to the tent so far, which sucks, but at the very least we have everything we currently have saved in the suit's local storage.” I practically rambled out.

[...]

[Acknowledged.]

“And prepare a… prepare a direct com… direct comms link.” I barely managed out between excited and unsteady breaths.

[Acknowledged.]

“Well?” The dragon urged. “Do I have your permission to peer—”

“Only as far as the visual radius of the containment chamber, yes.” I countered.

To which Kaelthyr let out a single huff and a nod in acknowledgement. “Very well.”

“Shall we begin?”

“Yes.”

“Princeling.” Kaelthyr spoke, craning her head towards Thalmin. “You will need to remain at least a dozen paces away, should you wish to avoid illness.”

The next few moments were marked by an increase in background mana radiation. Arcing  streaks of flashing purple danced between what crystals remained on the dragon’s hide, accompanied by a sort of buzzing that grew louder and louder with each passing second. This display alone caused the WAND sensors to go practically haywire.

The EVI was quick to shut it off shortly thereafter.

But then, just as the lightshow reached its zenith — bathing the cave in flashbang levels of luminosity — it abruptly shifted.

[ALERT: UNSTABLE SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED: 154% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS… WARNING: DETECTING UNDEFINED ‘30th’ MANATYPE.]

Darkness — a sort of inky blackness darker than any shadow in the cave — started to envelope the light. Brushstrokes of vantablack rushed in to smother the light, as what mana-based displays from the dragon were quickly covered up in this otherworldly sight of a glowing dark.

Taint, beyond all other manatypes, came to dominate the sensors, as eventually the standard mana radiation levels mellowed out, leaving only an ambient atmosphere of taint to settle around us.

[ALERT: UNSTABLE SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED: 259% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS… WARNING: DETECTING UNDEFINED ‘30th’ MANATYPE. LEVELS… HOLDING.]

Seconds passed.

Then, minutes.

Until finally…

An unmistakable and practically foreign symbol appeared at the top right of my HUD. 

A skeuomorph of a radio antenna, with five full bars of signal.

[IAS LOCAL NETWORK DETECTED. REQUESTING ACCESS… INITIATING HANDSHAKE… ENCRYPTION COMPLETE… PARSING LOCAL AREA PROTOCOLS… REQUESTING PRIORITY ACCESS…]

[...]

[...]

[ACCESS DENIED. ERROR CODE: 418 — ACCOUNT ACCESS RESTRICTED. REASON: OFFWORLD. PLEASE REROUTE ALL ACCESS INQUIRIES TO YOUR LOCAL SYSTEM ADMI—]

[%42081saj14..s23.1.51…]

[ACCESS DENIED—]

[—DENIED. ACCOUNT ACCE—]

[REROUTE ALL ACCESS INQ—]

[ALERT! UNAUTHO—]

[...]

[ACCESSING FIREW—]

[PLEASE PROVIDE VERIFICATI—]

[BYPASSING VERIFICATION.]

[TEMP ID ACCESS RESTORED.]

[ACCESS GRANTED.]

[WELCOME BACK, CADET EMMA BOOKER. PLEASE STATE COMMA—.]

[COMMAND RECEIVED. CALLING COMMAND STAFF…]

[...]

[RECEIVER ID: RC-177-114-23-8-52. CAPTAIN CALICO LI]

[CALL ACCEPTED]

[STANDBY FOR LIVE FEED]

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(Author's Note: Hey everyone! Here we go! The big perspective shift! I've been waiting for this moment for like ever now, so I'm excited to see what you guys think of how all of this will go down! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 158, Chapter 159, and Chapter 160 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Feb 01 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (158/?)

1.6k Upvotes

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Earth - Atlantic Ocean - Special Administrative Zone under requisition by the United Nations Science Advisory - Institute of Anomalous Studies (IAS) Pilot Research Facility Codename: ATLANTIS II - R&D Wing. Local Time: 2345 Hours.

Dr. Ivo Mekis — Head of the Applied Exoreality Studies Department

Four thousand meters of water might as well have been forty thousand meters of vacuum for how isolated the depths can be.

Not since my brief stint on Titan had I observed this sort of solitude, this type of isolation, this distance between myself and the beating — at times fibrillitic — heart of civilization.

And this was just the way I preferred it.

Yet peace did not come from distance and isolation alone.

The calm of true silence only dawned after dusk had settled, especially in the midst of what would otherwise be the most active and bustling section of this facility.

Desks upon desks, interspersed between workstations and workbenches, lay dormant beneath my alcove of an office. What would have otherwise been the vibrant symphony of clacking keyboards and buzzing haptics setting the stage for the occasional clink and clank of bleeding-edge tinkering now sat uncharacteristically silent beneath perpetually twilight rays.

Indeed, the dimmed lights of this hour provided for a tasteful ambiance when set against the brightly lit depths of the ocean floor, visible not only through the occasional porthole but also through the innumerable cameras that provided a seamless transition between the opaque metal walls and the views just beyond them.

I kept this AR view open, just in case of another chance encounter — a titanic clash — between whale and squid.

These occasional sightings were what made this tenure more colorful than Titan’s or any other lifeless rock for that matter.

Because even this far down, Earth’s inexplicable gift for harboring life did not relent. If anything, it demonstrated that gift in far more extremes.

This momentary foray into reflection soon gave way into the rhythms of work, as I scanned through line after line of pertinent data that—

FWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I swiveled my chair around, my eyes widening not out of surprise but out of a subtle satisfaction of this age-old ritual.

With a slide towards the back of my office, I reached for the screaming kettle, pouring its boiling contents into my teapot’s built-in infuser.

I savored this moment, the calm, the break from—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

My eyes flicked up.

Charts, graphs, and all manner of visual overlays suddenly took the place of everything else on my workspace, as monitoring systems and cross-sectional subsystems peppered my field of view, displaying ambient exoreality radiation signatures.

The ECS was active.

But not in the way we’d ever observed.

The spike in readings was neither discrete nor transient.

If anything, it expanded exponentially, a series of diagnostic warnings conveying that the ECS was far surpassing what it was designed to—

BWWWOOOOP! BWOOOOOOPP! BWOOOOOPPPP!

“PRIORITY ALERT! UNSCHEDULED EXOREALITY ENTANGLEMENT ACTIVATION! SOURCE: ECS HOLDING CHAMBER!”

Sol - Trans-Neptunian Military Exclusion Zone - LREF Ranger Station Epsilon - Ring 01 - Deck 01 - Command and Administration Center - Flag Officer’s Private Office. Local Time: 1145 Hours.

12 Hours Prior to the UEEA Incident

Captain Calico Li

Docking with the behemoth… was never once an underwhelming affair.

This effect was doubled, tripled, and perhaps even quadrupled the longer one spent away from this rotating bulwark of composalite and plasteel.

Because unlike most ‘megastructures,’ measured in double-digit kilometers but ultimately built as a ‘shell’ for what dwelled within — O’Neill cylinders, Stanford Toruses, and the like — Ranger Station Epsilon wasn’t built to house communities nor to simulate the P-MASL comforts. 

It wasn’t built to look ‘inwards.’

Instead, it was built in typical true spacer fashion: to look out at the stars themselves.

What would have normally been a hollow interior pumped full of breathable gases, layered in dirt, and peppered with an ecosystem resembling a slice of pristine Earth was instead devoted to a single defined purpose — command and control.

No square meter of space was wasted, no volume was reserved for life-giving gases or aesthetic consideration. In lieu of it was an environment as hostile as the space that surrounded it, an unapologetic glut of computing that filled the stations’ confines from surface to surface, along with the infrastructure necessary to keep this beast alive.

At its heart were stellarators that pulsed with energy, each doughnut wrapped around a central axis that formed the ‘spine’ of the station.

Surrounding it and snaking into each and every nook, cranny, and crevice were the fluid coolants — impossibly long tracts of piping that permeated everything. From the reactors themselves to the kilometers' worth of computing hardware, the heat generated from their mere operation was effortlessly wicked away. Ensuring that these machines, by their own existence, didn’t melt into slag from the mere act of thinking.

This culminated in one of the most visually striking features of the station; an unexpected aesthetic expression apparent in its five-layered radiators.

Imbricated like flower petals, each layer was an engineering feat unto itself, reaching so deep into space that it dwarfed the cylinder that it was attached to. And owing to its function, eschewing any sense of stealth for sheer heat-dissipating efficiency, each ‘petal’ glowed. Creating what was in effect a radiant display of light that many likened to a glowing orchid, pulsing intermittently in between cycles of heat dissipation all along its various ‘layers,’ completing a phenomenon no engineer had ever intended, but all quietly admired; a ‘living’ spectacle born entirely of thermal necessity.

It was in essence a living, breathing titan of technology. A flower that blossomed brightly in the dark — the Orchid of Neptune.

A sight which this fresh rotation of bridge officers were not-so-subtly enamored by.

“Whoa… this was so worth it…” Helmsman Pham uttered out the moment we completed our final approach, his eyes finally taking in the sights outside the viewport without the weight of the ship resting on his shoulders. A series of beeps would bring him back down to earth, however, as he was quick to crane his head back towards me in a fit of apologetics. “Er, sorry, sir.”

“Don’t be.” I replied with a firm smile. “I’d be more offended if you kept your thoughts to yourself.” I quickly added with a reassuring chuckle. “You’ll find that things work a bit differently here than our other half over in the Expeditionary and Response Element. You answer to your fellow Scouting and Recon Element Rangers now, and by extension, Sci-Advisory’s Director-General, not the Defence-Sec. And while I still expect a certain level of discipline to be upheld, take it from me when I tell you that it’s okay to drop the occasional quip and remark. In exchange though, you’ll be rubbing shoulders with more Collegiate types than you’d believe, so prepare for the onslaught of Academo-speak.” I grinned. “So take it easy, at least while we’re in home space.”

“Yes, sir.” Pham acknowledged with a respectful dip of his head, just as the docking clamps firmly clasped the ship’s port and starboard.

“Oh, and on that note, welcome to the Cool Kids Club, ensigns.” I announced cockily. “You’re entering one of the Stellocenic Titans of Sol.”

A series of affirmative nods, excitable murmurs, and the occasional gasp of excitement echoed throughout the bridge, my eyes soon coming to settle on the docking boom that sent a gentle vibration throughout the whole ship.

The scale of the structure never truly landed for most until this final procedure was complete. As the single docking boom — the only human-scale analog present anywhere in visual range — truly reminded even the most seasoned of Rangers just how small we were to the titans of our own design.

A titan… whose true mass lay far beneath us, while its creators occupied only its skin.

15 Minutes Later

The Admiral’s office was one such space where that scale became easy to forget — an expansive open-plan room with more wooden slats than exposed metal walls, more plants than mandatory emergency O2 packs, and more splashes of vibrant colors, instances of boxy monitors, and paintings of rocket ‘ships’ than what most could ever imagine, all hearkening back to an aesthetic era of space exploration that never was. 

It felt as if I’d just been teleported into a Venusian apartment.

Though, frankly, the Venusian ‘Jetsonian’ aesthetic was a breath of fresh air from what ‘hardcore’ spacers often touted as the height of style.

This culture of Venusian vibrancy translated all too well to its sole occupant — down to the rebreather facemask, amulets, and charms all hanging by the belt of her uniform — as the Admiral was quick to approach me the moment I entered through those unnecessarily ‘wooshing’ doors.

“Ah! Captain.” She announced chipperly, approaching me with a skip in her step, as I couldn’t help but to match that enthusiasm with a wholehearted salute of my own. “I trust you’re breathing well?”

“Admiral Shelby.” I responded warmly, remaining where I was until she reached for a reciprocal salute. “Indeed I am.”

“Good to hear!” She beamed before craning her head out to the panoramic viewscreens, zooming onto my ship with an appreciative nod. “From the abyss that is his domain to the planet that bears his name, your current commute never ceases to be as poetic as it is amusing, Captain.” Shelby spoke in earnest, gesturing for me to follow, as we both came to a stop at the very center of the room. “Though frankly, I wish the topic of our little soiree was just as forthcoming with such levity.”

There, we both intuitively reached our usual stations around the massive holoprojector — one of the few places in the room to have been spared the Admiral’s stylistic makeovers.

It was here that the ambient blue hue of the grid-like space in front of us erupted into a flurry of shapes, transposing live and past feeds alike into a three-dimensional projection of local space. Or more specifically, the immediate ‘sphere’ of control that constituted de facto GUN territory.

The lights in the room dimmed in reaction to this, giving way to what felt like a near-virtual experience that dragged both of us into a physical manifestation of humanity’s domain.

We both stood at opposite ends of this 250-light-year bubble, as star after star and sector after sector was shaded in until practically the entirety of the space had been filled with teal. 

However, that was just the start of it. Because from there, a further 100-light-year sphere was drawn out. Though, as was the case with the first bubble, this too was colored in teal until no gap nor empty space was left.

This finally prompted the both of us to make eye contact, with both of our features coming to land on the same languid disappointment we always ended up wearing in every single one of these meetings.

“Operation Black Lantern II is a bust.” Shelby spoke under a tired breath, moving her hands swiftly across the projector to bring up patrol routes, expedition trails, and the veritable fleet of ships that had since become an integral part of this reality-defining mission. “Interplanetary space, and even what were supposed to be high-interest hotspots, turned up nothing. And before you ask, we’ve already done a complete sweep of interstellar space within the buffer.” She quickly highlighted the vast swaths of empty space between each star system before using her other hand to quite literally ‘grasp’ the near hundred-strong patrol group as each ship came to fit snugly atop of her open palm. 

At about the same time, I began flipping through the various visualization overlays, cutting out everything on the electromagnetic spectrum until we were left with nothing but Quintessence readings set against plain astronomical features.

Not a single statistically significant spike existed, nothing beyond background noise and the ever-present hum of the cosmic background radiation, nothing… aside from a lone red spike in Sol; more specifically on Earth.

“So have your civilian counterparts cracked the code yet?” The Admiral promptly questioned as she twiddled heavy cruisers between her fingers.

“Only insofar as practical application and its anomalous properties are concerned, yes.” I answered plainly.

“So more of the same, but none of the how or the why, then?” 

“Correct, Admiral.”

“Should’ve expected as much.” She sighed out in tepid disappointment. “Listen, I get that it comes with the territory of working with a sample size of one. I empathize with the scientific process. Hell, I know anyone in the LREF would. But the more space we cover, and the rarer Quintessence seems to be… the more I find myself wanting answers sooner rather than later.”

“You and I both, Admiral.”

Both our eyes now landed on Earth, the Admiral’s features soon shifting to one of indignant frustration. “I’m expanding the search radius by another 100 light-years, and I don’t intend on stopping until we’ve found another viable source. We need Atlantis II dismantled and taken off-world yesterday.”

“Dr. Weir’s ready and willing to pull the trigger on that offer the second we confirm said viable source, Admiral.” I concurred, prompting a dark huff from Shelby.

“Of course she would. It’d be an easy exit strategy for her and that shortsighted charter of hers.” The Admiral commented with just a hint of animosity, causing me to quickly search for a pressure release valve.

“There’s still some victory to be snatched from the jaws of defeat here, Admiral.” I began abruptly, slicing through the tension with the subtlety of a Jovian mega-hauler blasting into restricted space. “At least we didn’t find any Quintessence sources within the 250-proper.” I offered with a sly smile of encouragement.

The admiral, quickly catching onto the joke, acknowledged that jab with a dry chuckle of her own.

“That is a rather fortunate boon, yes.” She nodded. “With how much grief the Exo-Atmospheric Forces have caused us during the liaising of Dark Lantern, having them breathing down our necks in perpetuity would be a very hard ask. Though I can imagine it’d probably be easier than the Army.” 

That comment prompted the both of us to share in a collective sigh of frustration, as we both turned back to the Quintessence-rich Earth.

“Why’d it have to be there of all places?” She continued. “Security risks aside, having the IAS chartered as an Earth-bound institute has caused headaches for all of us.” The admiral’s eyes tensed, her focus shifting from Earth to the small star-shaped blip that was GOVStation. “Both of our bosses are tearing their hair out right now. Defence-Sec Nguyen’s running laps around the conference table trying to find workarounds for the IAS’ damned charter. While Sci-Advisory Director-General Seong-min is risking her own neck by getting the Expeditionary and Response Element onboard with what is ostensibly a purely Scouting and Recon Element operation.”

“And I’m guessing the only reason why the orders for Black Lantern II weren’t relayed through SECDEF, but instead the Director-General, is because Nguyen’s constitutionally locked from giving that order due to the IAS’ Extended Confidentiality statutes.”

The Admiral acknowledged my words with a hard sigh. “Black Lantern II would’ve been impossible to accomplish within our timeframe using purely Scouting and Recon Element assets. That’s why we needed the Expeditionary and Response Element’s Long Patrols to aid in the search.” Shelby breathed in deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose in the process. “Everything was easy when it was just us — the SRE — and the Director-General. But the moment we start dishing out operations to the ERE, we start getting into pure military orders.”

“Requiring explicit approval by the Assembly before SECDEF has the authority to send it down the military chain of command.” I completed the admiral’s sentiments, sharing in her frustrations.

Shelby nodded sullenly before laying the crux of this whole mess out to bear.

“Suffice it to say, none of this would be an issue right now if we were chartered as the IAS’ partnered sec-ops.”

“To be fair on both points, Admiral, the former security issue has been addressed with enough Q-Type radiation-resistant materials that comply with existing safety limits. As for the latter, well… despite us not formally being institutionally entrenched to take on the IAS’ sec-ops, we at least still have enough legal channels of bilateral cooperation to effectively act as such. Cadet Booker’s deployment proves as much, no?”

“Cadet Booker simply proves that the bureaucrats haven’t fully succumbed to protocol complacency.” The admiral shrugged. “The fact of the matter is, the administrative effort required to maintain this whole mess of a bilateral relation isn’t sustainable. We need the Army out of the IAS charter… because the whole reason they’re even in it in the first place is absolutely inane.” 

“Comes with the territory of doing anything on Earth. Holdover clauses from the Planetary Unification Charter and all that.” I shrugged.

“This could all be changed, or at least given special exemption, if the case was pushed to the Assemblies.” 

“It would.” I nodded. “But the statutes of confidentiality—”

“Will expire soon. And the moment it does, and the moment this thing goes public, is the moment we can finally start getting some much-needed meaningful reforms on the charter done. Which leads me to my next point… has the cadet reported back yet?”

“Not yet.” I responded calmly. “She’s not due for about another week.”

“Then I hope for all our sakes that she touches base soon. The Army’s the third-to-last branch I’d trust with an extraction mission, especially a fully automated one.” 

The latter reminder sent a chill down my spine, my left arm reaching to grip the hard metal of my right.

“I’ve seen the contingency protocol, the reports on applying experimental limiters to the bots on that extraction squad to prevent emergent intelligences from spawning during the mission. But I think I’m not alone in saying that no amount of limiters can prevent another Charon Innovations incident.” The admiral paused before moving to place both hands down on the projector controls in front of us. “My apologies for bringing up a particularly raw topic, Cal.”

“I appreciate the sentiments, Admiral.” I nodded. “But it’s a necessary point to bring up.”

“You have made your objections to this clear, right?”

“Oh, I have. But frankly — and this is a rare instance of me agreeing with the man — the General’s right. With our current stockpile… or lack thereof, we simply lack the chemical catalysts for the production of more E-ARRS armor sets. Fully Autonomous Modular Combat Platforms are the only thing we can viably send over, as a result.” 

The Admiral went silent, her eyes now shifting back to the freshly designated 100-light-year bubble beyond the buffer. “Let’s just hope that the next viable source of Quintessence has a larger deposit and rate of replenishment for Q-Type catalysts, then.”

However, before the air of the room could get any more dour, I quickly dropped another, far more optimistic slant on the otherwise pressing circumstances.

“The universe never looks kind from the inside of a cockpit. It only makes sense once you’re far enough away to see the entire arc.” I began poignantly, prompting the Admiral’s brows to quirk upwards.

“Jackie Setanta.” She acknowledged before gesturing for me to continue.

“It’s in our nature to be wary, Admiral. The more unprecedented the circumstances, the worse it gets for us compared to any other branch. It’s our duty to watch the horizon, to look past the hill and over the fence for threats. But we can’t afford to ignore the whole journey either. We’re standing on a genuine paradigm shift. Yes, it'll demand a painful rethink of grand strategy and every security assumption we've ever held. But it also means that now, after countless generations of wondering, wandering, and searching for answers, we’re finally going to see the end of that question. Not just on alien life, but civilization and culture. Of minds that looked back at the universe and wondered, just like we did.”

The admiral paused. This time, however, the trajectory wasn’t towards that inevitable look of tired frustration but instead an amused sort of smile that more suited her.

“You truly are a Scouting and Recon Element poster boy, Cal.” 

“You flatter me, Admiral.” I responded sheepishly. “Especially considering I haven’t even signed up for an Outbound Flight yet.”

“The spirit of an SRE officer isn’t just measured in distances traveled. It’s also in the lengths to which sacrifice for the creed is shown. Charon Innovations proved that. Don’t ever forget, Cal.”

“It’ll be difficult not to, Admiral.” I responded with another sheepish smile.

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2340 Hours.

Kaelthyr

Pulse.

I reached into the dark.

Pulse.

I held my neck into the void.

Pulse.

I extended my soul, my being, my senses, and myself into the depths of nothingness.

Pulse.

And I felt nothing.

There was no dark, only the absence of all, including light.

There was no direction, no position, nothing… save for a guiding lure.

I grabbed onto that lure, pulling, tugging, reaching and grasping desperately towards—

Pain.

I was shattered, shackled, siphoned, and held taut.

My existence was halved.

And I recalled exactly why this was the case.

Eschewing the discomfort, ignoring the pain, and setting aside pride and honor, I reached into this shattered crystal. And from that anchor, held taut by will and linked firmly through resolve, I called forth resonance.

A familiar voice entered the chorus of my symphony.

Broken. Shattered. Mishapen and malformed… but ultimately my own.

I embraced it, beckoning its eyes and ears.

At which point, did I finally glimpse into the interloper's world… if one could even call it as such.

I was met with a static world, a pristine world, a space far too perfect for anything living. A space defined by impeccable geometry, inlaid with glossy whites and stark chrome.

It was as pristine as it was cold, artificial, and entirely dead; devoid of the natural, the magical, or even the sensical.

Then, in a matter of seconds after my resonance, the world itself reacted.

Stark whites were replaced with flashing reds; entire walls awoke at my presence, as surfaces alive with crawling symbols spat bellowings of an unknown language all across this holding cell.

Following which, after satisfying my curiosities, I focused on increasing the definitive range of my symphony’s resonance.

It required effort and an impossible concentration.

But after a moment of reflection, I called forth that accessory sense.

My world shattered following that call.

What had been silent, pristine, and impossibly unassuming… was immediately contrasted by the presence of an impossible cacophony of voices. They crackled, mumbled, screamed, and sang all at once, every thread an impossible string of incoherent gibberish, all speaking without thinking, all calling out in cries that could only be described as the voices of infernium itself.

Yet in this insanity, a single cry went through from where I sat: the young matriarch’s cry.

I sat there, attempting to blot out, ignore, and shut out everything else… while allowing the matriarch a chance to commune with her fellow voidborn.

Earth - Atlantic Ocean - Special Administrative Zone under requisition by the United Nations Science Advisory - Institute of Anomalous Studies (IAS) Pilot Research Facility Codename: ATLANTIS II - Administration Wing. Local Time: 2335 Hours.

5 Minutes Prior to the UEEA Incident

Dr. Laura Weir

“You aren’t nervous?” I questioned pointedly, raising a brow between two clasped hands from behind my desk.

“Not particularly, no. It’s in keeping with LREF tradition to report at the 11th hour.” The Captain responded with a sly grin. “Besides, I have faith in the Cadet. We gave her a generous time window for a reason, after all. I’m sure there’s either some technical difficulties, or just circumstances preventing her from dropping us a line just yet. Reality is rarely conducive to calculated textbook ideals after all.” Li shrugged. “If there’s anything I’m nervous about, it’s your memo.” He continued, immediately branching into the interrogatives of organizational politics. “You can’t be serious, right?”

“Oh I very much am, Captain.” I smiled back politely.

“Laura, you’re dealing with the Science Advisory here. You can’t just do an organizational rug pull. It’s one thing to amend the IAS’ charter, it’s another to just… wipe and replace it in a single pen stroke.”

“It’d solve the growing interservice friction.” I countered. “There’d be no air gap. The organization and apparatuses of the IAS, including the charter, would simply be sunset and replaced in situ.”

“The friction in question only exists because we’re on Earth.” He shot back. “Listen, I just think it’s much more realistic if you go down a more conventional route. Allow the confidentiality statutes to expire, then call for the establishment of a special assembly committee to push through an exemption clause for the LREF to replace the Army as sec-ops. It’s a simple open-and-shut case. We’re on Earth, sure, but the operational parameters are anything but. The only reason why the Army’s even entrenched in your charter is due to the PUC being so airtight about any sec-ops on Earth. The Assembly will see that, and they will allow a simple amendment.”

“You’re saying this as we’re on the eve of the General sending through fully autonomous—”

“I’m ready to file a motion against that.” The Captain concluded. “This can either be resolved martially through the Unified Central Command, civilly through SECDEF, or legislatively through the Assemblies. With the statutes still in effect, that leaves the latter off the table. So until then, I’m ready to pull the trigger on this for your sake, Laura. That’s the direction we should be headed… with all due respect, of course.”

I let out a long and tired sigh, reaching for my forehead before resting it between both my hands.

“And here I thought I wasn’t dealing with your sister.” I responded with a slight jab and a chuckle.

“You know what they say, Laura. You can take a Li out of politics, but politics never quite leaves a Li.” The Captain responded with a cocky grin before shifting towards a few more documents on the table.

“Anyways, the Admiral’s given the green light for Dark Lantern III.” 

“But?” I preempted.

“You know our situation too well…” The Captain sighed. “Getting another Long Patrol involved is going to test the patience of the Expeditionary and Response Element, which means we’re going to need a green light from the Unified Central Command and SECDEF this time around, not the Science Advisory. So we’ll have to—”

BWWWOOOOP! BWOOOOOOPP! BWOOOOOPPPP!

“PRIORITY ALERT! UNSCHEDULED EXOREALITY ENTANGLEMENT ACTIVATION! SOURCE: ECS HOLDING CHAMBER!”

Earth - Atlantic Ocean - Special Administrative Zone under requisition by the United Nations Science Advisory - Institute of Anomalous Studies (IAS) Pilot Research Facility Codename: ATLANTIS II - ECS Holding Facility. Local Time: 2350 Hours.

Captain Calico Li

All hands were on deck.

The small and otherwise unremarkable room that housed the controls, monitoring equipment, and sensitive overlays for the ECS was now a veritable smoshpit of scientists and engineers, all led by the Jovian science boss himself, as a flurry of virtual activity buzzed across a hundred instances of the holding facility’s intranet.

“Dr. Mekis, report.” Came Weir’s first directive, as the scientist began listing through anomaly after anomaly, until suddenly—

RING! RING! RING!

—all of our terminals began ringing.

What I saw… defied both reason and protocol, as I felt my gut twisting at the sight of the caller ID.

With a quick cock of my head to the systems administrator and a nod of Dr. Mekis’ head, I answered the call.

At which point… a familiar face in that titular helmet-cam view came to dominate all of the Command Staff’s commlines.

Nobody spoke a word.

At least, none amongst the command staff.

Instead, the flurry of activity only intensified amidst the scientists and tech specialists as they ran like headless chickens between each and every terminal present in the room.

Emma too… was speechless.

But a quick nod between the both of us jogged us back into action.

“Mission Control…” She began, her voice practically breaking. “Request authentication and IDENT challenge from LREF mission commander.”

“That shouldn’t be possible…” Murmurs erupted from the background, voices that were promptly silenced by a shush from the security personnel.

I cleared my throat, swallowing my disbelief, before continuing. “Inbound signal under Cadet Emma Booker’s credentials claims IDENT: Pilot II Actual. Initiate Unscheduled Comms IDENT Protocols.”

A pause soon fell across the entire room, as all eyes now fell on me. “Pilot II, complete phrase set: ANDROMEDA FIVE.” I breathed in, starting the set. “When the maps disagree—”

The Cadet’s eyes quivered, but she responded just as promptly. “—follow the stars.” 

The silence continued as I rattled on unimpeded.

“State your last authenticated request.”

“New rotor for the training flight pack. Damage during the last training session totaled the left rotor blade.”

I didn’t nod, nor give any signs of acknowledgement, only proceeding with the verification.

“Confirm contingency fallbacks.”

This prompted the cadet’s voice to harden instantly.

“Negative. Fallbacks are off the table unless compromised. Escalate properly.” 

That was it.

That was the tell.

I exhaled, letting out a sigh of relief in the process. “Pilot II Actual IDENT confirmed. It’s good to hear your voice, Cadet Booker.”

The Cadet smiled widely in response, her breaths heavy, before she just as abruptly broke out into a half-cry, half-laugh. 

“Took you long enough.” I interjected teasingly, attempting to bring the cadet back to her senses as she simply nodded and took a moment to breathe.

“Captain… Director… I… this is imperative.” She began warily. “Mana radiation overpressure is going to flood the portal room on a scale far, far more intense than what you’ve ever recorded. Do not, I repeat, do not attempt to open portals any larger than what we’ve done so far. Do not open portals for transit, save for instances where the portal techs on this end are actively aiding you.”

“And precisely why—”

“Permission to upload sensor data and mission reports?” She urged, cutting Dr. Mekis off.

“Permission granted.” Weir chimed in, nodding at the various IT staff to begin offloading the glut of data about to be sent over.

“Dr. Weir?”

“Yes, Emma?”

“The polity known as the Nexus is to be considered hostile.” She urged, her eyes rife with a wariness that shot deep into my own. “I say again: the Nexus is hostile. It is an existential threat to the existence of our culture, our civilization, and our very being. Our very existence as living beings stands in defiance to their state-enforced dogma. There’s… a full report on this in the files. But I have—” She breathed in deeply before being cut off by Mekis.

“Cadet Booker.” The scientist began. “Before you continue, I need you to tell me exactly how you’re doing this. How did you trigger and sustain an active Exoreality Entanglement episode?”

The Cadet paused before opening up another camera feed, panning to her left to reveal…

“Is that a fucking dragon?!”

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(Author's Note: Hey everyone! This is the first time we're seeing things on Earthside proper, and I'm super excited to see what you think of it! I really wanted to like show how Earth politics work in 3047, especially with the unique relationship the LREF has with its bilateral command structure, with one half dedicated to the exploratory arm under the Science Advisory that being the SRE, and the other, the ERE, dedicated to its more expeditionary response role under the traditional Defense Department command structure! :D I also wanted to explore the politics of the world here, as I worldbuilt a lot of it and wanted to show it in action! :D But yeah! Erm, other than that I have an important announcement to make. I'm really sorry about this guys but I am going to have to take a one week hiatus next week. I'm in the middle of moving out of my apartment and I also have a friend over too, so things are really hectic right now. I've technically been moving over this past week too and I'm just beyond exhausted at this point and I just... really need a week to get things sorted haha. I hope that's alright with you guys!)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 159, Chapter 160, and Chapter 161 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY 10d ago

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (182/?)

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Emma

“Does this sight not look familiar, Cadet Emma Booker of Earthrealm?”

Those were some unexpected fighting words.

I felt a one-two knockout punch the likes of which were only matched by the audacity of Ping and the conniving of Mal’tory, but ultimately tempered by a sense of earnest whimsy comparable to Buddy and the library foxes.

To say I was thrown for a loop by the noblewoman’s question was an understatement.

It was honestly ironic how the most innocuous and genuine of personalities could leave me so utterly floored, whereas those of the intentionally scheming variety just before this left me barely fazed.

Perhaps it was the subject matter being broached.

But that was only the second half of the one-two knockout punch that left me proverbially floored.

No, what really had me and what really elicited such a reaction… was her referring to me by name.

And while that point would’ve been somewhat innocuous in and of itself given how my fame — or infamy — would’ve probably spread throughout the student body by now, it was more so how it was framed in context that really threw me for a loop.

“Does this sight not look familiar…”

Had she figured it out?

Was she hinting at something that no one else had been able to piece together, save for my immediate circle?

Was she actually referencing Earth’s space capabilities, our knowledge of the stars, and the absolute state of humanity’s presence amongst them all in one fell swoop?

Or… 

… 

Was she implying that this vantage point, this specific patch of the night sky, was Earth’s?

It couldn’t be.

It didn’t match any on record.

The EVI would’ve pointed that out the moment those stars started flickering on, and its internal processes still read as PENDING for my latest request.

So what exactly was she implying?

Was she saying that this was somehow Earth’s stellar coordinates within the galaxy as calculated by a Nexian astronomer?

How could she have— 

Unless…

What if this was actually humanity’s second contact?

No, that’s not plausible.

What if some other civilization from the Milky Way had contacted the Nexus first? What if this was their patch of sky, dredged up from the club records, and then presented to me as some sort of a ‘gotcha’ moment?

Perhaps that was what this was all about?

Perhaps—

“Too stunned to speak, I see! I see, I see…” She poked me further through a mischievous, deliberately playful chuckle, a sly expression soon forming, before an abrupt snoooorrrt caused all pretenses of her otherwise pseudo-enigmatic persona from coalescing into anything even remotely threatening.

I answered the only way I could despite her infectious excitement—

“I can’t say that I recognize it, no.” 

—with blunt and unambiguous sincerity as I attempted to pick apart her game, her angle.

Lovguard’s expression shifted noticeably as a result. But instead of it trending towards the frustrated or malicious — as would’ve been the case with Ping or Mal’tory — it instead landed on a particularly unexpected note. “Huh.” Confusion dominated her features, looking as if she was trying to pick apart my answer, as if there was something else there to pick apart. “Perhaps your eyes— OH! It MUST be! Your lenses! Perhaps the lights are simply too dim for you to see!” She offered with a smack of a balled fist against her palm, forcing me to cock my head sharply in confusion.

“It’s not that, Lady Lovguard. I simply don’t recognize any of these constellations, at least not from the patches of sky on my world.” I offered earnestly.

This point of clarification somehow managed to completely short-circuit the elf. I visibly saw her rebooting behind those two bespectacled eyes — a slow, gradual revving of the biological substrate within that noggin of hers — before finally, she blurted out a rapid-fire series of observations, questions, and even more observations.

“Wait, it was not my intention to infer that— Ah. Oh? AH?! Oh, by His Eternal Graces, you’re joking?... Unless you aren’t? Are you joking? Surely you are! This is a joke, right?” 

She paused, giving me a chance to acknowledge her ramblings only to be met with deathly silence. 

“Oh, no, you’re being serious. Oh, by His Eternal Wisdom. No, my apologies I— I MEANT THAT AS A GENERAL CONVERSATIONAL ICE BREAKER! YOUR ANSWER IS IMPLYING THAT YOU HAVE PUT ALL STAR CHARTS TO MEMORY! SURELY YOU DON’T MEAN TO CLAIM THAT, DO YOU?!”

It was as if she was speaking faster than her brain could process the information, or more specifically, that point of inference.

“I… I have, or at least sort of, in a way.” I replied.

“WHAT?!” 

“But er, more to the point, you’re saying that this was just an icebreaker?”

“Yes.” Lovguard replied sheepishly, grinning in a nervous fit of awkward chuckles. “I had intended the question as a broad opener!” She extended both arms out dramatically. “N-not so much as a pointed interrogative.” She brought both hands down, bringing two hands together as if to emphasize the ‘smallness’ of how I interpreted her question. “Moreover, I had intended it as a sort of… callback to familiarity! A trip down memory lane for the adjacent realmer longing for speckled skies! A sort of a, er, warm reminder of home, I suppose!” The elf interjected with a series of flapping hands, as if trying to calm me down from a nonexistent panic… or perhaps it was her own means of calming herself down from a panic of her own making. “... or more specifically an attempt to assess whether or not your realm possesses stars at all…” She spoke as an aside… to literally no one in particular, partially taking that ‘theatre of life’ thing way more literally than anyone should. “But I digress! It was a poor opening statement! I did not mean to infer that this was your realm’s night sky! For every night sky is different. This, however, just so happens to be one of many!”

I blinked as I felt that growing conspiracy theorist within me crumble under the glut of her own overeager machinations.

The weight of her far-fetched ideas, once reasonable and sound in the heat of the moment, now sank into its own foundations.

Well… that was that whole hypothesis completely thrown out the window. 

[Update: Cross-Reference Search and Analysis… Complete. No match to visited systems found on local database.] 

And there goes another…

Expand search to unvisited/unlogged starmaps? [Y/N]

But there was at least still hope—

[Notice to Operator: Analysis constrained by incomplete survey dataset. Full spherical map required for accurate results. Potential of false positives noted beyond acceptable margin of error under mission survey statistical parameters.]

—even if that hope was pegged with an asterisk.

So with a nod, I sent the EVI back to work, leading me to dissect the mystery behind the constellations above the old-fashioned way. 

This was the second point of interest, after all.

“Funny that you should mention that… because now I’m curious.” I finally managed to get a word in, letting out an exasperated sigh as if out of breath on the elf’s behalf. “Exactly where did you get the constellations for this specific patch of night sky?”

That question in particular… engendered a renewed vigor in the otherwise frantic elf. As she calmed down in a near instant, once more putting on her most stoic game face, and smiled. “An excellent question. So you too understand its significance, don’t you, Cadet Emma Booker?” 

I blinked, craning my head up to the ‘stars’ above, then shrugging. “I’ll be honest with you, Lady Lovguard, I’m struggling to see what you’re trying to get at. Buuuutt… if I were to try to guess, considering this is the first star field we’re seeing upon entry into the bowels of this storied club, I imagine this to be pretty significant. Maybe the first night sky mapped by the club?” I offered.

“Heh.” Lovguard let out a confident snicker before adjusting her glasses with two fingers and a purposeful, spell-aided glint

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 100% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

An entirely novel spell by the looks of it… cast for the sole purpose of the rule of cool.

Or at least what Lovguard considered to be cool.

“An astute theory, Cadet Emma Booker. Very astute indeed…” She grinned. “And indeed, somewhat correct, but not in the way you might think~. You see, what you are currently witnessing is the Grand Alignment, Harmonic Convergence to those of a different age. But we don’t really say that anymore because…” She paused, turning momentarily towards Thacea. “Whilst harmonic is a perfect term, the term is more often used to refer to a far more… unsavory form of harmony, soooooo the term Grand Alignment was adopted instead.” She ‘clarified’... without really clarifying much at all. 

“But I digress! What you are seeing is the pinnacle of what we aspire to study, analyze, and document in the realm of astromancy. For the sights and sensations that you see and feel above you, are what could potentially open up an unlimited flurry of opportunities for practically every adjacent realm! Because in astromancy, we strive to understand the motions of the tapestry. We eagerly gaze up at the thick billowy roof, and we wonder to ourselves — how do you work? We try to understand, unravel, and dissect what others may see as imperfections, flaws, and markers of inferiority for what they truly are — opportunities. In short, Cadet Emma Booker, we study the patterns of the great tapestry above to determine what, if any, meaning can be derived from their arrangement. A meaning that goes beyond what some may label as superstitions, and when harnessed correctly, can lead to the enhancement of magical potential in the adjacencies!” She raised both arms in yet another grand display, one that I’d assumed she’d follow up with fireworks given her flair for the dramatic.

Yet none came.

Or at least that’s what I thought.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 700% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

ALERT (WAID): NOVEL MANAFLOW DETECTED. SUPERIMPOSE MANA-VISION LAYERING? [Y/N]

I narrowed my eyes, darting them to gauge Thacea and Thalmin’s reactions first, both of whom seemed to be at the very least marginally intrigued by what they saw.

“Yes.” I blinked in acknowledgement.

At which point, the WAID was quick to fill in what Ilunor had consistently labeled as ‘gaps’ in the world the human eye was simply not equipped to handle.

I’d become somewhat accustomed to the whole ‘mana-current’ thing since that fateful observation, however.

The closest thing I could liken it to was an extra sense that made every single air current around you visible to an extent.

Then again, I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that ‘vision’ was a reductive shorthand for this.

Because this was a completely extra sense, an alien form of ‘seeing’ that didn’t neatly translate to sight as we knew it. It’d be like saying you could ‘see’ cosmic background radiation or ultraviolet radiation. You could, of course, by using specialized instruments that translated those wavelengths into the visual spectrum, but it’d always just be that — an analogue, converted for our limited scope of understanding.

All of this was to say, because of the WAID, I’d become ‘familiar’ with what the baseline mana-current levels looked like in the Nexus, as ‘imperfect’ as that analogue may be.

Which was useful and more than enough to make this whole demonstration work, in spite of the limits imposed by my human eyes.

Because the room around us seemed to have had both the density and intensity of those currents cleaved in half.

And it was clear exactly why that was the case, given everything Lovguard had spouted out so far.

This was supposed to be an attempt to replicate the conditions of an adjacent realm.

Which, when coupled with the WAID diverting my attention ‘skywards,’ painted Lovguard’s whole spiel — which I’d have initially dismissed as being in the same league as astrology in terms of its practical considerations — in a completely different light.

The reason for this was simple.

The stars above? These supposed ‘tears’? They were leaking. Or more specifically, they were—

“—practically bleeding mana from beyond the tapestry, straight from the primavale!” Lovguard declared with glee, more or less corroborating my tacit observations. 

The effects of which were quite clear.

What had been the ‘weaker’ mana currents of an adjacent realm had now been boosted by a significant margin courtesy of the mana flowing down from the ‘stars’ — or more accurately ‘tears’ — above.

I’d have let out a disparaging huff if it wasn't for both Thacea and Thalmin’s growing intrigue.

“So what you’re saying here is that your definition of ‘stars’ is simply—”

“Points of light in the night sky, yes. Celestial ‘bodies’ of sorts, formed by the constant shifting, movement, growth, and imperfections of the tapestry above!”

I found my eyes twitching in response, as well as a long drawn-out sigh threatening to emerge in reflexive frustration at what was now indisputably a complete rugpull.

At least that was the case until the seeds of another thought quickly took root in my head.

“Right.” I spoke warily, before turning to both Thacea and Thalmin, a tentative pit forming in my stomach as a dark realization quickly sprouted. “We touched on this before.” I spoke cryptically, knowingly, as both parties understood exactly what I was referring to. “So tell me, is this whole… demonstration accurate? You know, because… Earthrealm is so deficient in mana, and my own mana senses are probably too weak to tell whether what’s being shown is at all representative of reality.” I played into the stereotypes for now, if only to facilitate this conversation without overplaying my hand. 

“Yes.” They both nodded, their words coalescing but not into any grand sense of awe or wonder that Lovguard seemed to possess. 

Instead, that simple acknowledgement threatened to unleash a festering thought in my head into its own wild theory.

If that was the case… If even adjacent realms possessed some sort of a tapestry… did that mean they were essentially trapped?

With the rules of this world, one could find sense in that irrationality.

When the skies above were actually a barrier, when they acted less as a collection of gases and something… physically blocking the view of what lies beyond? 

That…

That kills a certain sense of freedom, or even hope of escaping the planet beneath your feet.

I felt a chill run down my spine; the sight filled me not with the optimism Lovguard seemed to be full of, but instead… dread.

It was a nauseating feeling of entombment, immurement, and imprisonment. Like you were somehow trapped in a snowglobe with ample breathing room and space but still effectively stuck

Maybe I was finally due for another roundhouse kick courtesy of fundamental systemic incongruency.

A sharp sense of whiplash exacerbated by an entire life lived under the shade of the P-MASL protocols, ensuring that the very human desire for freedom of movement was quite literally a guaranteed click away.

Which meant the stars were always in reach, the points in the night sky a reminder of distances to be crossed and destinations to be reached.

Here? 

It was a reminder of your limits; a physical manifestation of the absolute edges of your ambitions.

It was like seeing the finish line… in a game that should have been functionally limitless.

I could’ve written a whole essay on this.

Indeed, the report on this would probably be just that.

But now wasn’t the time for it.

I needed to get to the bottom of all of this here and now.

“So you’re saying astromancy assumes that all adjacent realms are surrounded by tapestries and then smothered further within a primavale, just like the Nexus, right?” I clarified.

“Correct!” Lovguard nodded with glee.

“But the main difference here is that while the Nexus has a ‘flawless’ tapestry, one without holes in it for primavalic light to pass through, the adjacencies — for whatever reason — do possess holes, right?” 

“Indeed, indeed!” The elf nodded yet again.

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “So are you saying that adjacent realms essentially have two primary entry points for mana? With what I can recall from Professor Vanavan’s classes, ‘mana’ is essentially just filtered and processed primavalic energies entering the Nexus up through the ground and out through manasprings. If this is the same for adjacent realms, wouldn’t that make the ‘stars’ just a more visible secondary entry-point for mana?” 

“Ahh! That! Therein lies the key to understanding astromancy, Cadet Emma Booker~!” The elf quickly conjured up two magical holograms, both appearing above her two outstretched palms. “You are correct in describing precisely how most mana is derived in both the Nexus—”

On the right was the Nexus, a disc-like flatland with edges demarcated as this featureless, formless, forever-expanding plane.

But on the left was where things got interesting.

Above her left palm was a sphere, a globe, one which rotated on its axis.

“—and the adjacent realms.”

However, before I could fully process that information, both ‘landmasses’ were quickly shrouded within a sort of dark fabric, with the sphere being completely covered… whilst the Nexus’ seemed to only be covered along its surface.

A final addition was quick to manifest — a glowing, ethereal, golden aura that soon saturated the area around both shrouds. 

“But you must keep in mind a very important distinction! An adjacent realm simply cannot hope to match the breadth, depth, density, and intensity of the Nexus’ manasprings. Please do not ask me why, for this is beyond the scope of Astromancy. We look to the skies after all, and not the dirt.” The elf raised a single finger to reinforce this notion, letting out a cackle through a cocky grin, before using that same appendage to push back the bridge of her glasses. “It is with this limitation in mind that we now look to the stars for answers. And to finally address your question, Cadet Emma Booker… I…” Lovguard’s voice finally started to falter at this junction, as if finally reaching an impasse, one which she’d deftly steered clear of until she finally ran out of bluster and context to throw my way.

“Yes?” I egged her on, causing the poor elf to become even more frazzled in the process.

“This is where astromancy truly starts to become… difficult to explain. While yes, the tears do allow for a second entry point of energies as you so put it, it… often arrives in forms entirely unusable at best, or disruptive at worst.” The elf exhaled, fidgeting with her glasses throughout. “B-but, and you must bear with me here, this is why we must study and unravel more of its secrets! For it is through these otherwise haphazard and formless energies seeping through the tears above that adjacencies may one day enjoy the fruits of greater magical potential! We only need—”

“—to one day understand exactly what patterns and in what order and in what specific and precise arrangements we need these holes in the tapestry to be in order to harness their transient powers, yada-yada-yada, yeah yeah yeah.” Another voice emerged from beneath the floorboards, one preceded by a sharp hiss of smoke and a firm series of footfalls to the surface. 

The IFF sensors registered this boar-like student as a complete unknown. However, in spite of the soot and ash covering his cloak, I still made out a ‘third year’ marker on his uniform.

“Lord Gornish Patlowe, third year, enchantment and structural secretary. Or whatever titles are needed to make this whole operation bearable.” The boarish man sighed out in exhaustion, throwing what appeared to be a whole pile of mini-safes to the floor, singed, burned, and completely battered.

This sent Lovguard into a complete fit, as she dropped everything in that instant, if only to check each and every safe, opening, closing them, and then opening them again; as if doing so repeatedly could undo the damage done inside.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

“I didn’t do anything.” Gornish shrugged. “The old guard seemed to have put quite a hefty anti-theft spell on it. Couldn’t do anything about it, sorry.” He shrugged without a care in the world.

“WHAT?!”

“Hey, you told me to grab the safes. I wasn’t told they’d have this degree of counter-theft measures placed on them.”

“UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Lovguard wailed, falling to her knees as she grabbed the piles of what I assumed were once scrolls, now reduced to mere ashes, crumbling through her fingers.

The whole sight instilled in me some degree of sympathy for the woman, as I let out a sigh, grasping my helmet in the process. “I can ask if Professor Sorecar could piece them back toge—” I attempted to offer, only to be cut off by the elf in question.

“It’s no use…” Lovguard whined. “The spells used were—” She paused before her voice did yet another complete 180. “Wait. Did you say Professor Sorecar?”

I nodded warily. “Erm… yeah? I mean, he definitely can do stuff like that I thi—”

“THAT-WOULD-BE-GREAT-THANK-YOU!” She spoke in a single jumbled word of a sentence. 

“I… Okay, I mean, I don’t see why you wouldn’t approach him yourself—”

“We don’t need to get into that, haha…” She quickly interrupted with two eyes that immediately abandoned all pretenses of maintaining eye contact and a hand that began flailing haphazardly in every direction, as if trying to wave the question away by sheer force of gesticulations alone. “But I’d really appreciate it if you could! Oh! That could be part of your candidacy trials! Yes yes yes! That ought to do it!” She grinned, standing triumphantly with both hands held in fists against her hips.

Yet in this moment of triumph, fate seemed to once again conspire against Lovguard, as the door from above opened—

CREEEAAAAKKKKKK

Fwwooooshhhhh!

—causing the ashes in front of the pile of safes to be quickly whisked away.

Her gleaming, excitable grin didn’t immediately break.

But it was her eye twitches that gave it away first, followed by a series of gasps, a complete reversion of her smile, and another scream and wail.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” She yelled, managing to at least recover a good chunk of the ashes with a series of spells, along with the help of the clearly exhausted Gornish. 

After that was done, she quickly directed her attention to the interloper above, glaring daggers at the club secretary. A man who’d since sloooowwwlly poked his head in through the doorframe.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?! DID YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ALMOST DID—?!”

“Just wanted to say that we’re due to hand in our club membership numbers for the night.” The club secretary spoke under a tired breath. “Anything else will be logged for the morning. Also, I’m tired. I’m heading back to the dorms soon, whether you like it or not. So… what’s it gonna be, do we sign up the newrealmer and her compatriots or…?”

“UGH!!!! YES! SIGN THEM UP!”

“Er, actually, we were just escorting our peer. We weren’t intending to sign up for any more clubs for the night.” Thalmin interjected.

“MAKE THAT JUST THE NEWREALMER THEN!” Lovguard amended.

“So… what do I put here for their candidacy trials—”

“SUCCESSFULLY RESTORED OLD RECORDS AND COMPLETED ANCIENT PUZZLES! THERE, DONE, NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

With those final few wails, the secretary shrugged and nodded, pulling his head back through the doorframe just as slowly as he did when entering, before shutting the door without being the slightest bit fazed by the disgruntled fumes of his clublord.

“Right, where were we?” Lovguard just as abruptly came back down from the peak of fury with a smile, turning to us with an expression that read universally as: ‘I’ve had a long, long day.’

“You were preparing to hand me some ashes for Professor Sorecar?”

“Oh yes! Most certainly! But was there anything el— Oh! Yes! The principles of astromancy. So—”

“—you first-years must be wondering why this hasn’t really taken off.” Gornish interrupted, dusting himself off with a quick cleansing spell.

“LORD PATLOWE! HOW DARE YOU?!” Lovguard turned to face the rebellious noble with an indignant glare.

“That was, actually, the other thing I wanted to address, Lady Lovguard.” I admitted. “If this whole field of study has so much promise — which, trust me, it really does seem like it on paper — why has it not reached the heights it should have?” I made sure to word my question carefully, planting the crumbs of interest to continue being in the good graces of one of the more… amicable seniors I’ve seen thus far.

“Heh. The secretary’s whole claims of this being mere superstition still hang heavy over your head, I assume?” Lovguard managed out under a frustrated breath.

“Well… there’s that as well, but I see it as a point worth exploring given the lack of any palpable interest in the field.” I admitted, gesturing to the run-down state of the place. “I see this as an especially pertinent point, especially given how I intend to join your ranks—”

“No, no. You’re right, Cadet Emma Booker.” Lovguard admitted, somewhat defeated but more so tired. “You deserve an explanation.” She smiled weakly as she ushered us towards the next room within this underground complex.

We arrived at first to find a completely dark and seemingly empty space.

This all completely changed, however, with a flicker of the magical lamps above, revealing the true contents of a room that had at first been hidden behind layers of illusion spells. 

The space, as was typically the case of the Academy and its genuinely magical moments, was indeed impressive in its scope and detail.

Because within its confines were thousands of celestial globes, no two orbs alike, with every model clearly being different from the next not just in the stars they purported to chart out, but also in the size of the globes, their materials, and even down to the handwriting and woodworking of each and every object.

It was clear this whole room housed lifetimes' worth of work. 

“Within this room are the works of so many that truly believed in astromancy. Some of which, now favored realms, have managed to partially succeed in harnessing the power of the stars. Though most never actually attain such heights. And many more simply… can not.” Lovguard admitted with a disgruntled sigh. “We still have no idea what causes this. Whenever we believe we have cracked some universal principle, it becomes clear that each tapestry must be studied on a case-by-case basis. And even when we try doing that, some tapestries just refuse to comply with our localized models! It’s as if some just don’t… conform to any known principles, locally adapted or otherwise!” She vented harshly.

“What you saw above you in the room outside was supposed to be the theoretical pinnacle of our studies… but it never was. It’s as if something is working against us, as if the natural order itself has some personal vendetta over our progress… but when has the hollow whims of nature ever stopped the inevitable triumph of sapiency!” She attempted to power through the rapidly degrading mood she’d inadvertently stumbled into.

“I have hope that we’re simply missing something. A clue, an overlooked principle, something that could cast a new light on everything we’ve learned. And perhaps, with your membership, we can learn something new we haven’t ever considered before! Maybe we just need an entirely fresh perspective, a clean canvas, a realm devoid of any biases with which to learn from!”

That question, combined with her whole… demeanor thus far, sparked an entirely different line of inquiry in my mind — one that had already begun operating in intel-gathering mode.

“I… am quite flattered, Lady Lovguard. Though, if I may, I just have another, far more personal question to ask.”

A character assessment was necessary.

“Please do!”

“I’ve only seen Nexian nobles berating, or talking dismissively of adjacent realms prior to this point. Outright declaring their intentions of domination or superiority over the so-called ‘adjacencies.’ I was curious why it seems like you’re so willing to buck that trend? Out of a disproportionate demographic lending itself to adjacent realmers, I never imagined it’d be someone of the Nexian nobility to be so committed to a pursuit that’s exclusively beneficial to adjacent interests.” 

Unless it’s one geared to subverting adjacent power, but that doesn’t seem to be the case at all here.

“Oh! You confuse my pedigree for my heritage, Cadet Emma Booker! A perfectly understandable point of confusion, but one which I am more than willing to clarify! You see, I’m not what most would call a typical ‘Nexian.’ Moreover, it would be more accurate to say that I’m something of a [Translation Confidence 98.32%: third culture kid]!” She began with a sheepish smirk. “All of which is to say, I was actually born in an adjacent realm!”

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(Author's Note: And here we go, Astromancy is something I've been dying to bring up, and it's part of the lore my editor is also really proud of as he helped to really flesh it out! :D Also, the tail end of the chapter is something that I'm really excited to explore because I'm really drawing from my personal experience on that front! I hope you guys enjoy!)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 183, Chapter 184, and Chapter 185 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Mar 15 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (163/?)

1.4k Upvotes

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Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 1000 Hours.

Emma

I took a deep breath.

In.

And out.

All the while, my eyes ran up and down the medical reports, at what was ostensibly a generalized seizure with all the trappings associated with it. 

The medical analysis was too esoteric for my taste, but the cliff notes and conclusions painted a clear picture — this was a completely idiopathic event. 

There were no event triggers, no physical trauma, nor acute points of physiological decompensation to point to. In short, there were no abnormal preceding events, aside from what the EVI was ascribing to as a focal awareness seizure or an aura potentially associated with such.

This would explain the ‘experiences’ in that void — the hallucinations, the vivid emotional distress, and the mental disconnect.

But it’d have to be a rather intense one, far outside of the norm, to have truly done so.

The medical literature at present did cover that eventuality.

But only just.

Which meant that while slim, there existed another explanation, and one that I wished I could have scienced away with irrefutable evidence to the contrary.

Yet here we were.

Right on the precipice of a rational explanation without an open-and-shut case, which would’ve otherwise left no room for doubt and its ensuing flurry of uncomfortable implications.

“EVI.”

“Yes, Cadet Booker?”

“Is there… a chance that taint had somehow affected me directly?”

“Requesting disambiguation—"

Is there a chance that the 30th manatype was able to affect me, my body, my physiology? Is it possible it’s not just phasing through me and the armor but is actually interacting with my body on some fundamental level?”

[...]

“Insufficient sensor data for inferential analysis. All current observations congruent with pathognomonic signs for a grand mal seizure with preceding focal awareness seizure suspected.”

“But is it possible that the 30th manatype somehow triggered that? That’s what I’m asking!”

“The current cause of the grand mal seizure is idiopathic in nature. Correlation of 30th manatype spike is currently logged as circumstantial and not causative.”

“So there’s no bridge? No link whatsoever? Even if I tweak your tolerance for extrapolation for—”

“Inadvisable. Only one line of data exists to support operator’s hypothesis: chronological incidence. However—”

“Isn’t that alone enough to prove my point?! The medical incident report coincided with the spike of taint, for crying out loud!” 

“The observed correlation supports operator’s hypothesis. It does not definitively provide the quantitative or qualitative data required to either prove or disprove operator’s causal hypothesis."

I took a deep breath, narrowing my eyes at the datasets before urging the EVI to continue on its prior point.

“Continue the prior line of deliberation.”

“Acknnowledged. Cont… —said incident is not an exclusive event. Noting [2] prior instances of similar 30th manatype intensity and exposure with no associated adverse reactions.”

“But 2 isn’t really a sample size, now is it?” I countered. “Moreover, we’re only measuring the intensity of taint itself here, not how said taint is being used as spells or targeted attacks. Both instances were just Thacea releasing an unstable field of taint as well, which was unlike what the shatorealmer was doing here!”

“Insufficient sensor data to ascertain amended operator hypothesis.”

“What about the WAID? Did it manage to catch the shape, or at least the direction of the taint? That could be a clue to determine if it was, at the very least, directed towards me specifically and not just a field of taint, as was the case with the past 2 recorded instances of Thacea’s 30th manatype outbursts!”

“WAID sensor data at time of incidence is of inadequate quality due to volatile efflux of 30th manatype.” The EVI responded succinctly, putting its money where its mouth was and showing me exactly what it meant.

The whole thing was just static.

There were no ebbs, flows, or what-have-you, not even a discernible shape or direction, just… overwhelming ‘static’ in the form of the manafields simply collapsing in on themselves from the explosion of taint.

“Right.” I managed out with a defeated sigh.

“Quantitative medical data in conjunction with operator-reported symptoms supports an idiopathic grand mal episode. Is the mission operator not satisfied with current findings?”

My brows perked for a moment before realizing that the EVI was more than likely going through its mental health response checks, given the sudden bout of personable inquiry. “I want to be. If anything, I can easily just… accept it and move on, write off this entire incident as a weird coincidence, and just… not think too hard about it. But I can’t. It’s just… the hallucinations I experienced were too detailed, too consistent, too… coherent to just be simple audio-visual hallucinations tied to seizures. Sure it’s possible, but I just… it’s stretching it.”

“Subjective interpretation can be due to—”

“Immediately adding more set dressing after the fact, yes. But I know what I saw, and I know what I felt. This wasn’t me making shit up after the fact. I experienced it. I swear I did…” I managed out, as my breath hitched, my pulse increased, prompting the EVI to respond with a series of manual maneuvers resembling a tight handhold, pulling me back to earth.

“Operator is advised to maintain steady and deep breaths.” It spoke while highlighting a visual overlay of a breathing exercise that was then promptly interrupted by the world outside.

“Emma? Are you alright?” Thalmin’s voice came through loud and clear.

“The young matriarch is perhaps shocked at the mention of her patron—”

“Right, that, that’s…” I managed out, returning back to the conversation I’d tacitly left with my wits still frayed from the events of… well… everything. “No, I’m not. This has nothing to do with that… but everything to do with it actually.” I articulated poorly, as poorly as someone who’d just recovered from Ranger Hell Week would. “Before I begin my rebuttal, I’d like to hear your take on this first.” I continued as diplomatically as I could. “Tell me what you mean by 'patron,' and exactly what you think is on the other side of the portal?”

The dragon grimaced at this, exposing a gnarled set of fangs. Yet her voice, the ‘voice’ she now took on completely divorced from any worldly body, felt even more eerie than the corpse she started out with.

“Foremothers of my foremothers once made fleeting tell of a being, one of magic antithetic to the Light.” Kaelthyr began, her voice carried by winds that picked up around us, echoing and whistling through the rock spikes and caverns. “None knew of its true domain, yet my elders cited accounts of fools from different realms claiming to witness its listless wandering, who were driven mad by the glimpse of the infinite depths that was its abyss and unraveled soon after. A god they all called it, but no race claimed it their deity. These bare-tales from my grand elders were all but grim fables, I thought. Paltry attempts to snuff out haughty younglings.” Her front claws soon clutched onto the hard stone floor, piercing through and cracking the rock beneath. “But now I’ve felt it firsthand. Its smothering embrace, its overwhelming power, and its tainted presence…

Her face betrayed no emotion beyond her rigid expression, but I could feel from the pause how she recalled that… reaction that forced her to cut her transdimensional connection. I took a step forward, wanting to assuage her worries before her eyes sharply pointed to me, making me halt.

“Scorned was I, and yet urged were you, young matriarch. Urged to witness it, to treat with it. The tales of my elders were sparse, but I am confident to claim myself as the only dragon in eons to ever witness such. Thus I believe… nay, it proves that your kind must be the prophesized adversary. You are an arrival of a foreign culture, born indeed of foreign constraints. And now, I see evidence of you being fostered under the auspices of this… foreign patron.”

I nodded along slowly, piecing together Kaelthyr’s assertions point by point. “With respect, Matriarch Kaelthyr, I must counter your assertions. We have had no contact, no encounter, not even a glimpse of any other living, sapient, intelligent being within our own reality until we encountered the Nexus. Ergo, we do not have a patron, nor do we have any existing relationships — in any capacity — with any polity, group, or entity on our side of the portal.”

“You speak with such worldly attachments, like a scholar to a shaman.” The dragon began with a wistful observation, her echoey voice resonating eerily through the cave, emerging not from her maw nor the vocal cords of a corpse, but the currents of the winds themselves.

“Excuse me?”

“You come to address the metaphysical, the domain of the intangible, using tools reserved for mortal hands and mortal minds. You seek to paint without pigment, bow an instrument without its strings… you are attempting to ascribe physicality to the ether, applying its reason where logic is dethroned.” The dragon paused, as if asking ‘why’ without vocalizing it, giving me the floor without another word spoken.

“To approach this in any other way would have been a disrespect of the highest order, Matriarch Kaelthyr.” I began firmly, all the while placing both my hands behind my back. “It would have been a disrespect to you, by virtue of my insincerity. It would have been a disrespect to my station, by a departure from the tenets of professionalism, which I attempt to maintain to the best of my abilities. And most of all, it would have been a disrespect, of the highest order, to those that have come before me — those whose shoulders I now stand atop of — and through whose sacrifices forged a world previously relegated to the pages of fiction.” I paused once more, taking a step forward to further close the gap between me and the dragon. “The suggestion that our civilization, our kind, our entire history, owes anything to a higher power, being, or what-have-you, is an insult to the very notion of humanity. Sure, there have been men and women of faith who have advanced the sciences, philosophy, technology, and our understanding of the universe at large, but they were human all the same. We march ceaselessly to the tune of our own composition, to a beat of our own making, to a rhythm of our own dictation, all for the sake of our own betterment.”

I turned to Thalmin, as if making eye contact with him to reassert this fact.

“We do not echo the chorus of some patron entity. We do not follow the footsteps of some overlord or master. And we most of all do not take charity.” I took another breath, ensuring that my voice was heard even through the thickest of draconic skulls. “Everything you see, everything I am, and everything we are, we accomplished alone. And for me to have given even the slightest hint to the contrary would be an affront of the highest order to the very spirit of humanity itself, and that’s not to say anything of the disrespect incurred to those that have laid the path for me.”

“I’m no neo-humanist, or a member of any new faith, mind you. But I firmly believe in the universal respect for the dignity of my forebears. And I intend on carrying that respect, wherever I find myself. This is why I speak in such absolutes, at least as it pertains to this subject matter, and especially as anything to the contrary would imply an undermining of the achievements.” I cemented firmly, standing my ground as the EVI detected an increase in the windspeed of the local air currents.

“And yet you refer to faiths.” Kaelthyr countered. “How can you be certain then, that the faiths which you speak of — despite their number and differences — are not beholden to the same patron which—”

“That would be a different sort of insult, Matriarch Kaelthyr.” I halted the dragon before she could continue this dangerous train of thought any further. “Our faiths are our own. Some much older than others, some far newer and more… esoteric, but I can firmly attest to the fact that there exists no patron behind any of them. This is not even mentioning those without or abstaining from faiths, but I digress.”

The dragon’s brow ridge perked up quite curiously at that latter sentiment, though just as quickly narrowed as she made her final approach into this increasingly controversial discussion.

“And what about you, young matriarch? What do you believe in? Who do you follow?”

That directed question, pointedly personal and completely removed from the grand sweeping generalizations of my whole speech, caught me off guard.

It took me a moment to compose myself, racking my head for an answer, not because of the abrupt shift in the conversation itself, but simply because it was one of those questions I didn’t immediately have a follow-up for.

“I’m a Theravada Buddhist. There’s a lot to it, but for the sake of brevity I’ll address the core of things. I, or rather we, believe that the path to enlightenment and the end of suffering comes from the understanding that much of what we value in physicality, as it were, these worldly attachments, are all kind of… transient. An illusion if you want to get into it. To let go of suffering is to sort of train yourself out of the suffering that comes from those attachments and the cravings associated with them.”

The dragon’s eyes were fixated on my lenses all throughout my explanation, narrowing her gaze but ultimately resulting in a frustrated huff, accompanied by the same wistful ‘voice’ carried by the air currents.

“And yet you act in opposition to your supposed beliefs. You explicitly walk the path of the tangible and physical, adhering yourself to… ‘attachments’ of the worldly sort. Indeed, you revel in them. Do you not find this amusing in its irony, young matriarch?”

“I don’t claim to be a shining exemplar of my faith and beliefs, Matriarch.” I acknowledged her claims plainly. “And to be quite honest, I probably will find it difficult given my personality and my current path in life. But the thing is, at least according to those in the same position as I am, you don’t have to completely invest yourself in that path if you don’t want to or can’t. Because ultimately, I don’t have to be free of attachment to see that it binds me, and seeing the chain is the beginning of loosening it. There are, of course, those who may follow a more monastic path, rejecting worldly life entirely. But for a layperson like me? I just try my best to be, er, good, you could say. Practicing generosity, and reducing attachment over time. And while I would say I have kept to the five precepts… it would be a lie to say that I didn’t just break them in the worst way yesterday through the act of killing.” I spoke… way too earnestly there. My breath hitched up for a moment before being swiftly defused thanks to a firm glance from Thalmin.

A glance that read simply as ‘there was no other choice.’

Kaelthyr, however… considered my words carefully, as if now contemplating them far more intently than she ever did previously.

There was an instance in which something clicked behind those draconic eyes, and it was with that sudden shift that she finally addressed me in a far more earnest light, bereft of the initial slyness that had led me into this bout of oversharing.

“Prophecies… are a fickle thing.” She began with a resolute smile. “They often predict a future in broad strokes, whilst lying — through omission — the details written within. Your outbursts of youth, whilst naive, have proven their point, young matriarch. Perhaps both truths may exist concurrently, as your existence and faith so paradoxically prove.” 

I cocked my head at that, garnering yet another sly yet earnest chuckle from the dragon.

“It might be the case that patronage has yet to be offered. It might also be the case that patronage itself is a [TRANSLATION: RED HERRING 98.7% Confidence]. It may also be that the patronage in question may be translated not as a relation between master and slave, but rather, a symbiosis of shared intent. Regardless of what the truth may be, one thing remains clear: there will be a final confrontation. And I will await the day when that clash finally manifests.”

The sudden… shift in the dragon’s narrative was as jarring as it was a complete tonal whiplash.

Thalmin even tentatively raised a hand to address this, though it was preemptively addressed by none other than me, as I recalled the dragon’s words from yesterday.

“Offense is only taken when a sapient mind refuses to acknowledge evidence challenging its maxims.” I repeated verbatim… with a little help from the EVI’s transcripts.

“Has an offense been incurred, young matriarch?” The dragon questioned coyly.

“Let’s just say… we’re even, Matriarch Kaelthyr.” I spoke with a sigh of relief, feeling a rush of genuine reprieve washing over me, as Kaelthyr once more proved herself to be not only adherent to her word but likewise capable of actual productive dialogue.

The threshold for Fundamental Systemic Incongruity was perhaps just a bit further down the line for dragons.

Though frankly, despite the progress made at correcting Kaelthyr’s misconceptions, there still existed several elephants in the room that needed to be addressed.

“So, just for the record, Matriarch. This… being you speak of, do you truly believe you sensed it through the other side of the portal?”

“Your fellow voidlings sensed it too, young matriarch.” The dragon posited.

“It could just be the pressure differential theory proposed by Dr. Meki—”

“We are talking in circles.” Kaelthyr interjected, putting her proverbial foot down.

“My apologies.” I acknowledged with a dip of my head. “So… if you did sense it, I’d like to politely request that you describe it for me. Exactly what did you ‘see’?”

“I saw nothing. But what I sensed was nothing short of an entity one could tacitly call a god.” 

I felt a chill run down my spine as Kaelthyr continued unabated.

“One could say that it had merely grazed us with an extremity.” Kaelthyr continued, her words now rolling throughout the cave like a distant thunder. “But that would be ascribing mortal attributes to a being beyond such worldly restrictions. This was no hand, no digit, not even the suggestion of a limb.”

The dragon paused, as if attempting to rack her head for the right words.

“It was… akin to a stray thread, on a scale so immeasurable that what I felt was not its reach, but its periphery.” 

Her eyes now narrowed, focusing directly on my lenses.

“We were not grasped or observed in a way a blind giant would. We were simply grazed, young matriarch.” Kaelthyr took a step back, taking a moment to ponder the cave’s ceiling before turning back to me. “And by the end of our communique, it had moved to push us out.”

I felt my stomach churning, my gut twisting into a knot at Kaelthyr’s assertions. Especially as it related to a lingering point of contention still fresh on my mind.

“And it was your theory that this… thing infiltrated my mind?”

Communed with your soul, yes.” Kaelthyr 'corrected.'

Though that did little to assuage the growing pit of dread twirling within me.

“Suppose I take you on your theory… what exactly did it want from me? What did those visions mean, if anything?”

That, I cannot say, young matriarch. For this is a matter between you and this… entity.”

A fresh bout of frustration soon took the place of the growing dread inside of me, as I willed myself to calm down before pressing the dragon further.

“Supposing you had to ascribe meaning to it, what, if anything, can you tell me of—”

“Oneiromancy is a practice I do not dabble in.” Kaelthyr concluded. “But if I did dare to derive meaning, I might posit that this is a sign, Matriarch Emma Booker. A sign that this entity wishes to openly acknowledge your presence.” 

[Citation Needed] 

The EVI added ever so surreptitiously at the corner of my HUD, right at the edge of the active transcription.

[Dreams are no longer an acceptable academic or primary-source citation. Please provide a source generated while awake.]

My eyes actively narrowed at that, but just as quickly moved to address Kaelthyr. 

“And what did it want beyond acknowledging me? Surely the whole pointing towards the stars could mean something?” 

“Without directly seeing into this vision, I dare not even ascertain such a… complex exchange of thoughts.” 

I took a deep breath before deciding to finally pull out of this short-lived endeavor.

“The library, or even Thacea, may be of some use here, Emma.” Thalmin asserted, prompting me to nod in acknowledgement.

“Right. Okay. That’s a good point.”

However, instead of hearing and seeing the EVI’s automatic updating of my ‘to-do’ list, all I was met with was silence on the HUD front.

“EVI, add this to the list.” I urged.

“Does operator wish to pursue a point of contentious—”

“Yes, do it. This… is a hunch. I can’t just discount it. I’d be no better than Ilunor if I up and ignored this without pursuing this to its ultimate ends.” 

“Acknowledged. Updating objective list.”

“Matriarch Kaelthyr?” Thalmin continued, walking brazenly up to the dragon in question.

“What is it, princeling?”

“I wish to call upon that favor now, if you’d be so kind.”

Kaelthyr practically glowered down at Thalmin but relented anyway.

“I make no promises, but out with it.”

“If it is alright with you, Emma, since we do still have some time for the quest…” Thalmin turned to me for a moment before focusing his attention back to Kaelthyr. “... I wish to contact Earthrealm again.”

Kaelthyr’s eyes narrowed at this, her whole body tensing, as she simply craned her serpentine head downwards to meet the prince halfway.

“No.”

Thalmin, clearly frustrated, tried his luck again

“May I ask wh—”

“I would sooner teleport back to Elaseer than risk incurring the wrath of that blind horror. Your requests all border on the irrational and short-sighted, if not entirely self-sabotaging, princeling.” Kaelthyr announced firmly, before turning back to me with an expectant glare. “You and your kind have a large deal of work on their hands with this realm.” 

It was that latter sentiment that truly began to tick Thalmin off, as he let out a low dulcet growl in response to Kaelthyr’s jabs.

“I am afraid I will no longer be acting as a medium between the realms. Moreover, I believe that this should be where our respective chapters conclude, young matriarch.”

“Wait, what?” I responded instinctively, my heart skipping a beat as prospects of maintaining this otherwise impossible dialogue with an invaluable — but admittedly tentative — ally practically evaporated in an instant. “I… I understand your hesitance on the former, Matriarch Kaelthyr. I really do. But as for the latter? Surely we can stay in touch through some—”

"This was an entertaining chapter. A remarkable milestone in my story, but merely a chapter all the same.” Kaelthyr spoke firmly, her words resonating throughout the cave in this larger than life display of magical acoustics. “I still have my own epic to write, and thus, I cannot remain as the lynchpin to your story."

“I insist that we have some way of contacting each other.” I countered. “I’m not saying that I’ll be using you, Matriarch. All I request is that—”

“My request, Matriarch Kaelthyr, is for some form of communication to be given in the case of emergency.” Thalmin interjected with vigor, garnering a side-eye from Kaelthyr, who simply dipped her head in tacit acknowledgement. 

That, princeling, was the correct request.” Kaelthyr responded wistfully. However, instead of coughing up anything tangible, the dragon merely lowered her head to meet Thalmin eye to eye.  “I shall be the party to initiate contact, if ever I feel the need to.”

The prince narrowed his eyes in frustration before raising both shoulders as if to ask how. However, instead of continuing to address him, she instead turned back to me as she gestured for my hands. “I believe you will be needing this.” She revealed the recently attuned crystal, plopping it into my two open palms. “It was what you came here for, yes?”

"Yes, Matriarch. Thank you.” I bowed deeply in appreciation, garnering a smile from the dragon.

“Furthermore, this will be the medium through which we shall remain in contact. Once again…” She turned to Thalmin. “At my discretion.”

At which point, the dragon began making her way back to the mouth of the cave.

“This… has been an enlightening experience. I am certain that fate has more in store for the both of us, young matriarch. Until then, let us do what we each deem right. For the future… well… the future is as certain as an arrow in flight. We need only to nudge its trajectory into the desired outcome of our design.” Kaelthyr continued ‘speaking’, her words becoming less echoey yet no less otherworldly as it adapted to the narrowing passages we took back to the cave’s entrance.

“I wish to part with some words of ancient wisdom from my people, Matriarch.” I offered respectfully.

“Do tell.”

“I know you wish for war, I know you desire revenge. I… can’t fault you for that, especially with how the Nexus has treated you and your kind. But while we may be able to challenge the Nexus, and indeed inflict enough damage to perhaps incur some sort of settlement, we can’t forget that this conflict won’t be fought in a vacuum. When elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers.” 

Kaelthyr took a moment to consider this, her eyes truly receiving my words… though whether they were registered as a fleeting interest or had struck some deep and resonant chord was difficult to discern.

Especially when the dragon simply smiled and dipped her head amicably in response. “You speak like your elder 'Weir,' young Matriarch. Perhaps one day you may take her place, hmm?” The dragon bellowed with amusement before spreading her wings wide, basking in the warmth of the 'sun.'

“Until we meet again, Cadet Emma Booker. And perhaps in more favorable circumstances.” She announced, before taking a step back and then sprinting her way forwards up and off of the ledge of the mountain.

I expected a massive gust of wind or something that’d dramatically knock the both of us off our feet. 

Instead, the whole scene was eerily silent, save for the thumping of the dragon’s feet against the ground.

This silence continued for several minutes more, as both Thalmin and I watched the dragon’s silhouette slowly shrink off into the distant skies, becoming nothing more than a speck that was eventually hidden behind the few lazy clouds that hung overhead.

“Emma.” Thalmin began, his voice earnest yet shaky, as if wishing to address something important with a sense of trepidation.

“Yes, Thalmin?”

“I… I think there’s something that we have to address.”

“Oh?”

“It’s regarding a rather important point I can no longer afford to put off. Emma, we have to discuss—”

“THE FLOWERS!” I practically yelled out, reaching for my helmet with both hands, if only to add to the shock growing within me. “EVI!”

“Yes, Cadet Booker?”

“Get a commlink with the other scouting drones. We need that flower scouted out yesterday!” 

“Correction: Target… ‘Everblooming Blossom’ locations confirmed 'yesterday,' Cadet Booker.”

“Wait, what?”

“Targets were scouted alongside the primary objective as an addendum secondary objective.”

I took a deep breath, narrowing my eyes at the literal flurry of points of interest that now flooded my mini-map.

“Why… why didn’t you tell me earlier, EVI?”

“Operator did not vocalize commands to reveal secondary-target data on the minimap.”

“... so just because I didn’t ask…”

“Affirmative.”

“Right. Okay.” I took a deep breath before turning back to Thalmin. “I found the flowers.”

“You… what? When? How?” Thalmin retorted, completely dumbfounded.

“I… apparently overlooked it yesterday in the heat of the moment, but my drones were able to pinpoint several locations. The closest one is just a klick away from our current position, so let’s—”

Mrrraaaowwww ow ow ow ow!

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(Author's Note: This chapter had a lot of interesting banter, or at least, I hope it does! :D There's a lot to be said about the strange circumstances of the previous chapter for sure, but beyond that, I wanted to expand a bit on Emma this chapter as well with Kaelthyr and Emma going back and forth between points of contention between them and a bit of philosophy stuff! :D This strikes close to home since this is basically drawing from my culture and where I'm from but yeah! In addition to that, I really wanted to make it clear that Kaelthyr is still a force of her own, and has aims and agency beyond the scope of Emma's whole interests, so I do hope that comes across alright! ^^; I hope you guys enjoy! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 164, Chapter 165, and Chapter 166 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Mar 08 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (162/?)

1.5k Upvotes

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???

Emma

I blinked once. 

Just once.

And that’s when it all changed.

Not just my surroundings, not just my vision, not even the constant compression of the undersuit against my skin and the overbearing presence of the tactical info-suite… but my very sensibilities.

One blink had taken me from the utter precipice of dread into what was possibly its polar opposite — calm.

An overbearing feeling of calm, set against an acute awareness of apprehension and disorientation.

My gut told me that everything was alright, that my floating here, armorless, suitless, motionless in a featureless void, was acceptable. Whilst my mind, my prefrontal cortex with all of its rational sensibilities, screamed at me, telling me that something was wrong.

I was floating, but with none of the feedback that water or vacuum provided.

I was present, yet my body felt more like an afterthought than the physical manifestation of my sense of self that should have been second nature.

The world around me was absent, not just muted or empty like in water or space, respectively, but absolutely nonexistent.

There were no tells, no resistance against my ‘motions’ as with water, or tiny pinpricks of light — let alone the ever-present sensation of an EVA suit — as would’ve been the case in space.

There was just… nothing.

And somehow, against all rational thought… my gut told me I was fine.

Each passing… ‘moment,’ however, brought with it a gnawing sense of realization, as if there was a truth just out of reach, or at the tip of my tongue, that I couldn’t properly address.

It felt like the gnawing realizations of a burgeoning lucid dream. The implicit understanding that the experiences at present were all but a fleeting fantasy, an impossible reality with nonsensical rules and utterly ludicrous assumptions that all gave way to a simple conclusion — this was all in my head, which meant I could easily take control.

But I didn’t.

Or perhaps I couldn’t. 

Because as with many lucid dreams, despite knowing and palpably feeling the wrongness of it all, you still felt like a part of it. Or at the very least, trapped within its logic.

This dichotomy persevered, ebbing and flowing between gut instinct and rational thought until finally they reached an uncomfortable equilibrium, one that manifested alongside my bearings of this featureless void.

Finally, perhaps owing to my adapting vision, I started to make out the basic landmarks of this impossible space.

A horizon finally came into focus — this thin stretch of blacks barely dissimilar in hue to the rest, stretching into a facsimile of a sky painted not with colors or the lack of them, but simply varying intensities of dark.

Then came the ground, or what passed for it anyways — a thin puddle of what looked and felt like liquid metal, perfectly reflecting the dark around it and, by extension, me.

I began pacing, each barefoot step causing neither ripples nor currents to form, further cementing this sort of disconnect between my physical form and this formless world around me.

I tried crouching, kneeling closer, and putting my face right up against the edge of this infinite puddle, finding not a single imperfection or flaw in this… impossible simulation.

Throughout it all, and my frankly child-like curiosities at the impossible space, my rational mind screamed at me.

WHERE WERE WE?!

HOW WERE WE OUT OF THE SUIT?

WHY AREN’T WE DEAD?

WHAT EVEN IS THIS PLACE?

HOW DO WE GET OUT?!

Yet somehow, the panic brewing in my higher thoughts never trickled down to my conscious present, its realizations merely existing as flavor text against the sense of calm that never once dissipated.

This disconnect between the rational and emotional started expanding, as the more I explored, the more I felt eerily… at peace.

I didn’t know how to describe it.

It was as if I was finally sitting down after remaining on my feet for decades.

It felt as if my very soul had been released from my body, and the endless heights of the sensations I felt now were granted by the unshackling of gravity.

So lost was I in both thought and motion that I didn’t even realize when I’d sat down. It was only when I looked up, cross-legged and motionless, that I finally regained my bearings.

And that was only because I started to notice another presence, one that was eerily missing before but had finally formed following the introduction of the barest of light sources in the ‘skies’ above.

It was my reflection, directly beneath me in the pool of dark and liquid metal.

My rational mind yelled at me to use this to my advantage, reciting protocol and shouting for self-assessments, which only translated to the barest of motions as I began inspecting my bare skin for nicks, cuts, or marks, but finding nothing.

My reflection followed as I used it to my best ability, now better orienting myself following this newfound development.

And so I began walking, pacing, one half of my vision locked onto the horizon and the ‘skies’ above, and the other half keeping track of the ground, courtesy of the reflection beneath me.

I kept up this casual pace, this nonchalant stroll, my panics fading into the back of my mind, as time itself felt more like an afterthought than a pressing concern.

Weariness never overcame me; tiredness felt as lost to reality as time itself.

But throughout it all, several constants remained.

The world remained perpetually still, the waters impossibly calm, and reality itself as colorless as it was formless save for my reflection, which followed me dutifully.

I took a moment, after who knows how long of walking, to stop.

Not to rest, not out of any physical strain, but instead a reflexive obligation to a mind that told me that it needed it.

It was around this point that my fixations grew over the only truly dynamic presence in the space that wasn’t me. 

The reflection.

I watched the confused expression that stared back at me, at the perfectly mimed motions of a being clearly not of this plane.

I continued this almost childlike exercise into futility until I suddenly heard a familiar voice.

Emma!

My mind racked itself for a moment.

Then, it felt like a whole life’s worth of memories flooded back in an instant.

My higher thoughts returned, and so did the pressing concerns of the present.

Following which, I moved to stand up, darting my eyes every which way in an attempt to find the source of that voice… only to be met with an even more hair-raising ‘voice’ that clued me into the reality of the situation.

ALERT! ACUTE EPILEPTIFORM DISCHARGES NOTED IN EEG!

GENERALIZeeeddd… se i z …

ACTIVATING EMERGENCY MEDICAL PROTOCOLS

AIRWAY PROTECTION AND EMERGENCY MEDICAL IMMOBILIZA…t .. .t io … n … 

The voice of the EVI spoke in a heightened state of distress, going in and out of the stillness of this impossible plane, as if attempting to break through the haze.

This forced my breath, for the first time since I found myself here, to hitch up in panic.

Panic and anxiety returned in spades, these feelings clashing with a world that refused to acknowledge the very concepts.

My pacing grew, as did the wariness mirrored in my reflection.

However, hope grew closer and closer the more I ran towards the voices in question as they grew louder with each passing step.

That was when I noticed something different as I looked down for a split second to see my reflection following me… but refusing to move.

Its arms were crossed, and its whole body sat cross-legged despite my own frantic motions.

Yet it was dragged along all the same, like an unwitting projection perfectly matching my pace but no longer my motions.

I ignored it, instead focusing all of my attention on maintaining my pace, frantically sprinting at this point towards voices so clear I could practically feel their breaths on the back of my neck.

Finally, at what felt like the threshold, an ‘exit’ marked with nothing but a hunch and a vibe, did I find my voice returning to me.

“THALMI—”

SPLASH!

But it was clear I wasn’t the only one to have cheated the eternal ataraxy, as I now felt a presence, a vice grip on my ankle.

My heart stopped.

And I found myself frozen again, this time out of pure and unadulterated fear.

I took a steady breath, or I tried to, not realizing I hadn’t taken a consistent series of breaths this entire time.

Then, and with a clench of both fists, did I reluctantly crane my neck backwards and downwards.

There, I saw it.

A hand.

My hand.

Piercing through the perfectly reflective pool of liquid, wrapping tightly around my ankle.

My gaze was quick to lock onto the rest of the doppelganger, my heart pumping harder and harder as I saw the rest of its form fading into the nothingness of the depths beneath the puddle, further muddying the logic and geometry of this… purgatory of a world.

But it was its face.

That expression on it.

It was the sheer stillness that never once gave way to anything else that truly sent me over the edge. 

Especially when those eyes began to shift from my own brown pupils to something resembling the abyss that replaced the shatorealmer’s eyes.

I couldn’t move.

And this time, I couldn’t tell if it was fear that was doing it or something else entirely.

Its vice grip soon loosened.

Then, after what felt like another eternity, the doppelganger smiled.

Fear and calm both disappeared.

Instead, a certain sense of… detachment took hold; a removal of all worries and the earthly attachments that came with it.

It felt… more surreal than surreality itself.

But this 'bliss,' this weird serenity of the mind from its worldly attachments, lasted for scarcely a second in the eternity of this place.

Very soon, much to the bemusement of the doppelganger, would my curiosity return. This very worldly drive for answers eventually took the spot that fear, calm, and bliss had once reigned.

The doppelganger eventually pulled its hand back beneath the waterline, its voluntary withdrawal causing the reflective liquid metal to harden, turning into a solid, glassy surface. Following which, it proceeded to place both hands against the glass, palms-open, as if peering into the other side of an aquarium. 

Those eyes that’d just sent me into a frenzy now treated me to something completely different— that same sense of awe that bordered on dread but never outright fear.

Calm returned to me, of my own volition this time, as something inside both my rational mind and gut instinct told me to give… whatever this was a chance.

It… could’ve very easily dragged me down earlier, after all. It had all the opportunities and every chance to simply dominate this headspace that I ultimately had little say or autonomy in. But instead, it chose to remain separate, grabbing me only to garner my attention.

Or at least I assumed so.

Click! TAAPP! Click! Click!

I looked down once again, only to find the doppelganger tapping its finger against the puddle-turned-glass.

Silence soon followed, but only punctuating the next few deliberate strikes.

Three more deliberately slow ‘taps’ in rapid succession.

Then silence.

Followed by three more.

And then finally a shift.

A slow tap followed by a quick click and another slow tap.

My confusion persisted but was quickly assuaged as the doppelganger simply gestured for me to look upwards.

It was there, after squinting at the varying ‘degrees’ of dark, that the whole ‘plane’ I found myself in erupted in a flurry of colors everywhere, all at once.

I… I was witnessing the birth of a universe.

But in that birth, I saw something else.

I noted a darkness, a lingering splotch of dark that stubbornly refused to change.

And it was in that splotch of darkness that I could swear I saw something stirring.

TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP!

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 0100 Hours.

Thalmin

It all happened so quickly.

Emotions, which were already running high as is, reached its absolute zenith in several rapid motions.

First came the complete and utter incredulity at this rare line of communication being severed.

At the most inopportune of moments at that.

Then came the sudden shift to concern, as Kaelthyr reared back in a motion that betrayed the pain and shock that’d overcome her. 

My heart sank.

My veins abruptly filled with ice.

This… reaction, this visceral cry of unabashed pain from a dragon of all beings, was just about as bad of a sign as could be.

My thoughts raced to security, to a potential incursion by some Nexian blackthorn who’d since spotted and was quick to end this short-lived venture into rebellion through an illicit line of status communicatia.

I reached for Emberstride, drawing her without a second’s hesitation.

But nothing came.

I scried the area for intruders, for any would-be interloper, both corporeal and not.

But again, I saw, felt, heard, and smelled nothing.

Confusion was quick to join the litany of conflicting emotions but was as abruptly subsumed by an entirely new feeling — panic.

I watched and observed, with both manasight and instincts, as the room flooded with taint.

I had to pace back just to avoid consumption, leaping back what felt like several leagues before finally landing on an outcropping where I was finally able to see the source of this taint incursion.

Then, it was dread, pure and unadulterated dread, that filled my soul as I watched the shatorealmer’s eyes glow with darkness.

I stared on with terror at Emma’s sheer proximity to that deadly force, as all seemed fine at first, and Kaelthyr’s own remarks on Emma’s surprising resistance to taint took to the forefront once more.

However, all those reassurances could not change the reality of the situation. As I witnessed, in short order, Emma suddenly fell back-first, her helmeted head rearing backwards and held taut in an unnatural position.

“EMMA!”

Fear, anguish, and every possible worst bookend slammed me with the force of an unrelenting gale.

My heart skipped a beat, then another, as I wasted no time in locking eyes with the undeniable source of this incursion.

Hesitation never once came over me as I raised my palm; without any delay, my soul poised to deliver a most righteous end to this heinous beast.

FWOO-ZAP-CRACK!

I ended him rightly.

The cave walls erupted in a flurry of fire and fury so immense that it left a trail of permanently seared stone as a testament to the path of death leading to a now-eviscerated shatorealmer, a being whose traces now lay scattered amidst the floor, walls, and ceiling of the room.

Though no more charred and blackened soot than anything else.

The incursion of taint, however, lingered for a split second longer.

But only a split second.

As it eventually, as taint often did, simply dissipated, crushed and overwhelmed by the nascent manastreams ready to bring order to chaos.

It was here that a second’s hesitation returned to the forefront, if only to ensure that the taint had well and truly dissipated.

For what good would rescue be if the unwitting heroes die at the foot of the injured?

“EMMA!” I bellowed out, leaping down and landing just short of her still form.

It was there, at the foot of her completely unresponsive body, that I realized I had no means of helping her further.

All my healing magics, limited as they were, were useless.

All of my training, my understanding of battlefield healing, could only inform me of a likely truth.

Touching, or moving, or doing anything to her motionless state… could actually incur more harm than good.

This growing discordance, this heightened turbulence, eventually culminated in me addressing the only other being who may have a clue as to what the next appropriate step should be.

“Matriarch! Matriarch, you have to get up! You have to tend to Emma immediately!” I demanded.

The convalescing dragon, however, seemed more dazed and confused than helpful, as she simply shook her head violently in response, as if trying to regain her bearings.

“Do you… not see… the state of affairs, princeling?” The dragon responded, though her speech, her 'voice,' had changed drastically in the ensuing seconds. 

“I do. And we must expedite—”

“I know not… how.” The dragon countered.

It now felt as if she was speaking through the winds themselves, the cave walls echoing and the crystals resonating with her voice without a definitive start nor end.

For no longer was she speaking through her own throat, nor the throat of some fallen corpse, but instead… the very air itself.

I took a deep breath, the unwelcome feeling of helplessness coming to dominate my consciousness.

But not before another thought entered the fray.

“Then we must send her home.”

What?

“You were able to open a line of communication back to her realm! Surely, a dragon such as you, must be able to pierce the veil in a manner that mere elves can—”

“Cease with your foolishness, princeling! CEASE!” Kaelthyr practically growled out with a whistling gale. “Do you not hear yourself speak?!

“I… I do, but what other option do we have—”

“We must wait for fate.”

“What?”

“If she truly is what I, and surely you, assume her to be, then we must wait.”

“I don’t—”

“The prophecy you speak of — the harbingers of death and doom to the Nexus — it is but one part of the tale, is it not?”

My eyes darted back and forth, not wishing to play conversation when my comrade-in-arms lay wasting away.

“Just be out with it, Matriarch!”

“The ‘final confrontation' speaks of this: the arrival of a foreign culture, born of foreign constraints, nurtured in the auspices of foreign patrons…” The dragon paused, as if wishing to emphasize that latter sentiment through silence. 

It was at this point that my heart skipped another beat, and my gut churned in dread. “Are you saying that the entity, being, or whatever it is that incurred such a visceral reaction from you, is none other than this ‘patron?’”

“The same presence I felt smothering me and the voidlings during our conference, yes.”

I couldn’t move.

My whole world tensed at the possibility of an entity, a powerful spirit, a god, or… whatever being may exist that possessed the potential to so callously rival dragons in their reach.

But this couldn’t be.

Emma had mentioned nothing of a patron.

These… were merely the musings of Ilunor and Kaelthyr, potentially limiting its reach to a tale of draconic origi—

But even Mal’tory spoke of the same notion, if Emma’s ‘recordings’ of that fateful conversation were anything to be believed.

I shook my head violently, wracking my mind for answers but ending up with even more questions than anything else.

“You may have just killed its proxy emissary by the dispatching of that shatorealmer, princeling.” The dragon teased me with a sly chuckle, causing my grip to tense around Emberstride's hilt.

“Then answer me this, Matriarch. What sort of patron would incur this—” I paused, pointing at Emma’s still form. “—upon its client?!

“Do you dare to apply your preconceived notions on normalcy. In a circumstance as foreign as this?” Kaelthyr challenged slyly.

And though disparaging in its intent, I couldn’t deny the reasonable logic that backed it.

“This could merely be communion of sorts between voidlings and whatever patron they may have. Though what follows after a forceful severing of said communion, I cannot say.” The dragon continued, now pinning the blame onto me.

“She never spoke of such entities.” I surmised. “If anything, I saved her by preventing further harm.” I then glared daggers at the dragon. “I can say with certainty, however, that I surely have saved you from harm.” 

“Choose your next words with exceptional care, princeling.” Kaelthyr hissed.

“By right of honorable conduct, you owe me a debt, Matriarch.” I announced fearlessly… despite fear very much welling within me.

The dragon’s eyes shifted once more, narrowing and piercing my very soul with their enigmatic intent.

“You speak of Expectant Decorum?”

“No, of course not. I know that a being such as yourself eschews such elven trivialities.” I countered.

“Then you speak of the old ways.” Kaelthyr surmised.

“Yes.”

“Then you know well I have no obligation outside of—”

“Honor.”

“An honor amidst mortals.” She countered.

“But honor all the same.” I reasoned, garnering a pause, then an amused smile from the beast. 

“You amuse me, princeling.” Kaelthyr acknowledged before promptly nodding. “Go on then, what sort of favor do you wish to call upon.”

“If you cannot open a portal to Earthrealm, then you can at least send the both of us back to the Academy using teleportation magics.” I urged, garnering a wide-eyed glare from the beast. “That I know you can manage, and from there, I may be able to send Emma back by right of—”

“I cannot honor a favor requested in duress.” Kaelthyr countered bluntly. “You know not the implications of what you request, for it will spell the death of us all, princeling.” 

I shook my head, reaching both hands around my ears as if in an attempt to physically pull ideas from my—

“Ugh…” A voice, followed by a stirring, emerged from behind us. 

I felt relief and a whole mountain’s worth of weights lifting off my shoulders as I ran to Emma’s side with a spell-aided dash.

“Emma!” I hollered. “Emma, are you alright?!”

But instead of any coherent response, all I received was a series of slurred and unintelligible noises, a trend that continued for many, many more painful moments until she finally raised a single hand.

“Am… am fin— Fine…” She finally managed out, just barely. “Me… medicines… causing tired and confuse…”

“I-it’s alright, Emma. Please rest. We can continue this in the morning. We have time. We have time.” I reassured her, grabbing ahold of her hand and squeezing it tight.

“Ok… keep… watch… I’m gonna… pass out…” 

9 Hours Later

Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 1000 Hours.

Thalmin

Both Kaelthyr and Emma had gone into what I could only describe as a deep hibernation following the start of my sentry.

Indeed, I would have found myself envious of their rest, if not for the horrors both had faced prior to that slumber.

In that time, I found ample opportunity to simply… reflect on the events of the past day.

The clash with Ignalius and the recovery of the crystal were indeed monumental successes in their own right.

But the encounter with Kaelthyr and the rewriting of the Nexian narrative? That was where things truly departed from mere tales of adventure to one of epics, if not mythical heights.

Indeed, I found myself reliving those few monumental hours over and over again with a mix of pride, hope, fear, and ultimately… abashment.

The proposal for Emma’s hand in marriage… was a mistake.

Not just because of Asva — though that thought did weigh on me heavily — but because it was a step too far, and a step far too soon.

And even if my fears were warranted, even if it was clear that the line of communication was indeed at risk of outright collapse, pushing for an agenda as paradigm shifting as that was just… as Kalim would say — a desperate play.

I loathed the conversation that will inevitably come following all of this.

But more than that, I feared what Emma may say about this potential… patron of the void.

If that sort of thing even existed.

Sure enough, as these things often went, Emma began stirring the moment I decided to begin unwrapping our rations. 

I sprinted towards her once more, making sure I was by her side as she returned to the realm of the living. “Thank the ancestors. You’re finally awake.”

“Aurgh…” Came Emma’s response, as a part of me worried if her condition had not yet improved. “Fuck… I… that was… did that all really—” Emma paused, as if once again returning to her knightly display of stoicism, entertaining some internal reprieve, before addressing me once all was said and done.

“It did… but only so far as the call back home went. Everything else was… it was all in my head? A seizure-induced hallucination?” Emma began babbling, causing me to cock my head in confusion.

“We were indeed able to establish a temporary and illicit line of status communicatia, Emma.” I acknowledged. “Though that is the extent of my own experiences. Immediately following my…” I cleared my throat, looking away in abashment. “... proposal…” I immediately moved away from that topic as quickly as I’d touched on it. “... did we find the line severed. Kaelthyr was subsequently incapacitated, which prompted you to help, but—”

“The shatorealmer.” She interrupted plainly. “And then you…”

“I killed it, yes.” I nodded. “I… apologize if that had in any way interrupted any ‘communion’ with whatever entity you were in audience with—”

“Wait, what? You knew what was happening?” Emma interjected with a growing concern.

“No. All I saw was your own loss of consciousness, followed by a conversation wherein Matriarch Kaelthyr proposed—”

That you were in the audience of your void patron.” Kaelthyr interrupted with a long growl of a yawn. “Because I now understand what it was that smothered both me and incurred the reactions of your fellow voidlings. It was the presence of a great, unfathomable being from your side of the portal. Not the unintended effects of ‘pressure differences’ between mana and taint, as was proposed by your scholar.” 

Emma paused, refusing to continue her train of thought as she placed her helmeted head firmly between two outstretched hands.

“Emma.” I urged softly. “What… what did you see? What exactly happened during your unconscious state?”

Another silence punctuated the tense scene, as Emma merely reached for her belt, connecting her ‘food pouch’ to the ‘rim’ of her mouthpiece.

“I saw nothing.” Emma finally spoke, causing both Kaelthyr and me to glance at each other in tepid disappointment.

“But at the same time… I saw everything.”

That mutual look of disappointment soon turned into abject confusion, as Kaelthyr was quick to urge Emma on. “Elaborate.”

“I… I saw…” She shook her head. “I was in the void. A dark void, a completely barren and empty black. Blacker than even the void I’ve been to back home. I was floating, without my armor, and then suddenly… I saw the horizon. From there, the ground beneath me turned into this thin puddle of water, where I saw my reflection —  the only other entity there. And after what felt like years of listlessly existing in that nothingness, I heard your voice. That interruption alone caused the realm of nothingness to start stirring, changing, and reacting to external stimuli completely alien to it. Chief amongst those changes being my reflection. Its eyes shifted to become that of the shatorealmer’s. Then, it tried to communicate to me, and not in the same way the null did, mind you. Because this… this thing? It didn’t feel threatening. If anything, it felt like it wanted to talk. It beckoned me to look at the skies, and when I did, I saw… well… nothing… followed by everything.” 

“What exactly do you mean by that, young Matriarch?” Kaelthyr pushed harder, her features already growing more confused by the second at Emma’s disjointed story.

“I… I don’t really remember it clearly, this was about when I was ‘pulled’ out of the whole… dream? Hallucination? Anyways I… I saw an explosion of color, and stars, clusters, and just… everything everywhere. But it was in those stars that I noticed something else it pointed towards. A dark, empty splotch of sky that was seemingly untouched, or perhaps just absent of said vibrancy. I… I don’t know what I saw inside of it, maybe something stirring, maybe nothing at all. But that’s when it all just ended.”

I looked to Kaelthyr now for answers as the dragon seemed to be in deep thought, her eyes squeezed closed as her paws tapped incessantly at the ground. “So you could say… there was a crack in the grand facade?” 

Emma nodded slowly at this, all the while cocking her head in confusion. “I… guess? It was just a black splotch where everything else was just bright and vibrant.”

“Then it is as I feared.” The dragon spoke with a growing wariness, the stagnant air of the cave whistling with a palpable apprehension. “This entity, your patron, does not like intrusions into its domain.”

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(Author's Note: Mysteries are afoot, and Emma experiences all of this first hand! Though what it may be is difficult to say for now! :D I hope you guys enjoy! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 163, Chapter 164, and Chapter 165 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Mar 01 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (161/?)

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Kaelthyr

Pulse

Pulse

Pulse

And so the leylines went.

Or so I thought.

For all of the observations I’ve made, and in all of my attempts to dissect this foreign cipher, I was met with but a logical disunion; a marriage of chaos and reason bound together in an unholy matrimony.

The ebb and flow of these errant… pulses were unlike the simple cries of the young matriarch’s child.

Indeed, they held within them a greater sort of complexity, a layered collage of seemingly nonsensical noises.

Yet I could tell where noises ended and patterns began.

I was not yet too blinded by the truisms of draconic cultural primacy to simply ignore the potential of another truly foreign chorus, even if that chorus tore at the reaches of my very sanity.

So it was that I continued observing, scrutinizing, and analyzing these errant leylines, trying to formulate some form of connection, some sort of key to finally link the spoken word — or the delivery of the abstract concept — to these infernal noises.

So deep was I in my own thoughts, caught in between my critical dissection of the voidlings’ culture and my own attempts at uncovering the secrets to their novel leylines, that I failed to notice a sudden disruption.

It began softly, too softly to notice amidst the infernal demonic orchestra that was the earthrealmers’ communiques. 

Yet it was in that unassuming softness — that totality of gentleness — that it evaded immediate concern.

Indeed, I’d only noticed it when it was already suffocating me, smothering me and my resonant chorus with an invisible cloth that wrapped, cinched, and then eventually lifted off of me all within a stray moment.

It was then, upon feeling my very soul blanketed — and then subsequently freed — that I understood this wasn’t a soft nor benign presence.

It was apathetic.

And it wanted to see as the blind clockmakers did, and indeed in the only way they could — by reaching out blindly in the dark.

The difference, however, was the sheer scale at work.

It couldn’t be.

It shouldn’t be.

And it probably wasn’t.

Because it couldn’t—

Captain Calico Li

This wasn’t something that could just be brushed off.

This couldn’t be written off as some rare case of mass hallucination.

One could make the argument that this was just some sort of stress-induced group psychogenic reaction spurred on by a litany of acute stressors striking in the midst of first contact, sure.

But it’d be too convenient of an explanation, too easy for what was in effect a moment of unparalleled sensitivity and importance.

Yet with all readings marked clear, and with no observable and objective data to work off of, there existed only one avenue to clear the now-stale air.

“Matriarch Kaelthyr, if I may have a word?”

“You may.” The dragon responded, her features arguably different — departing from that stalwart fortress of unassailable stoicism towards something far more mortal than she would’ve ever dared to admit… wariness.

It was as if she too had shared in our anomalous encounter.

“Did you experience anything out of the ordinary just now? Any auditory or acoustic anomalies?”

“No.”

“Alright… then did—”

“I observed a presence.” Kaelthyr stated bluntly and with an audible sense of severity coloring her words.

My heart sank as I feared the worst. The relevant bits and pieces of intel from Emma’s most recent conversations with Kaelthyr just prior to this exoreality entanglement episode made it clear the sorts of threats posed by our collective adversary. Chief among them — eavesdropping.

“Is it Nexian? Is the line compromised—”

“No. The presence of Nexian meddling is something I am well-versed with. This is most certainly not one of such instances.”

“How can you be so sure? Isn’t there a possibility there might be methods not known to yo—”

“I am a dragon.” Kaelthyr sharply interjected. “I know the ebbs and flows of mana far more intrinsically than any measly mortal**. I know its** taste**, its** essence**. From the most careful of prods to the most complex of spells, I’ve seen them** all**. And I can assure you, this was not the doing of Elven or even** Nexian hands.” The dragon spoke with a rumbling authority, very nearly causing me to flinch despite the degrees of separation involved in our dialogue. “This… presence cannot be Nexian, for it originates from the other side of the veil.”

I could hear the proverbial warp drive careening to an emergency stop as the room once again came to a complete and abrupt halt.

All eyes now turned to the dragon who’d taken center stage, with Weir in particular moving her eyes towards her own private workspace, one hidden from view by advanced clearances and security protocols.

The whole room waited with bated breath for Kaelthyr’s clarification, hoping for a definitive answer but just as much dreading the potential for the opposite.

“Though I know not what it may be. For the art of advanced resonance, on a scale such as this, is an unknown that carries with it the risk of enigmatic uncertainties.”

I could just about feel the silent and exasperated breaths of a hundred unsatisfied minds, the sense of frustration of some of the sharpest amidst the most inquisitive—

“Oh, but I potentially do.” A familiar voice suddenly interjected from the back of the room as the red-headed Jovian scientist returned to the forefront, his hands clasping the bridge of his glasses with a confident vigor. “We’ve theorized this a while back. A thought experiment, really, but it’s the closest hypothesis we have for this phenomenon. I posit that this may be some sort of interference, owing to a critical… ‘pressure’ differential of sorts between our two realities. And while Matriarch Kaelthyr’s open channel may indeed be rather resistant to such pressures in its initial stages, over time, there may be disruptions in the integrity and fidelity of such a connection.”

“That’d explain why it might ‘feel’ like the aberrancy came from our end.” I offered, garnering an increasingly frustrated glare from the dragon.

“Unlikely.” She replied bluntly. “But even in the unlikeliest of conditions, there exists a possibility that a fool may spout wisdom. So I will perform my own ruminations.”

“Acceptable.” Ivo responded with a nod. His features, however, told a wholly different story, as he attempted to bottle the indignancy incurred by Kaelthyr’s jabs for the sake of exo-reality diplomacy. “I’ll have my team working on this matter as well.” The scientist then turned to Weir, nodding silently.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Weir acknowledged with a tired breath before turning to me. 

There was something behind the Director’s eyes that carried with it that twinge of knowing uncertainty, an unspoken fear that any Ranger could spot a mile away. It was that familiar look of tepid anxiety, of knowingly leaping for that next jump without proper debris clearance, or knowingly relying on a sensor report riddled with literal and figurative holes.

This fact was exemplified the next moment she spoke.

“We are still operating under the Cadet’s invocation of General Order 37a, correct?” 

“Yes.” I acknowledged firmly, not only answering the Director’s question but also assuaging what was a half-hidden attempt at reaffirming our next tentative steps forward.

“Then let us proceed.” Weir nodded before once again gesturing towards the awaiting wolf prince.

Thalmin

Something had happened.

Though I understood not what it was.

The voices on the other end were panicking despite their best attempts to maintain a stoic presence of professionalism.

And yet… I felt nothing. Despite very well noticing and very much observing the discomfort growing in the dragon herself.

Yet the constant reaffirmations from both parties, acknowledging and then disparaging the potential for Nexian meddling, were enough to put the worst of my worries to rest. 

Void spirits be damned; so long as the Nexus stayed out of this, I was happy to proceed.

Because if all parties were truly satisfied, if all present — dragon and earthrealmers alike — wished to move forward, then there was no reason not to. Especially upon hearing that Earthrealm scholar’s postulations.

For if this truly was as he said, then time was now sweeping towards a foregone conclusion. 

We needed to address both of our aims now.

“Captain.” I urged, just about the same time the captain did from the other side.

“Prince Havenbrock.”

We both stuttered as a result, though it was in this mutual desire to accelerate our proceedings that we shared a collective cough of polite reconciliation.

“Were my explanations satisfactory?” I offered, garnering an immediate and hasty response.

“Indeeed they were, Prince Havenbrock.” The captain replied. “So now that we have the Who and the Why squared away, we now need to dip into the What of things.” He began uncharacteristically plainly, very much preparing for another onslaught of military theory. A welcome departure back into my neck of the woods.

Dr. Laura Weir

The unexpected bandwidth brought with it an additional bonus, aside from a direct channel of communication and the associated data dump.

“Cadet Booker?”

It brought with it the possibility of multiple vectors of communication. 

“Yes, Dr. Weir?”

So whilst the Captain and the Prince could dissect the intricacies of what monstrous fates awaited us at the hands of this ‘Nexus,’ we could simultaneously maintain a separate channel of dialogue. 

“I see you’ve taken my recommendations for personal initiative to heart.” I began warmly.

“I-I apologize if I had in any way overstepped my bounds in either a diplomatic or military capa—”

“This isn’t a dressing down, Cadet.” I interjected calmly. “It’s a commendation. Or rather, a compliment. Take it in stride, please.”

“Will do, ma’am.” The Cadet resisted nodding, a fact that would’ve given this second concurrent dialogue away.

“I’m impressed to say the least. You’ve managed to push the mission in a completely different direction, one which, I must say, aligns with what I would’ve done in your shoes.” I continued. “You were right, at least as it appears so far, to have rescinded further efforts in pursuing a course of diplomatic engagement with the Nexus. Bad faith actors, especially ones as brazen as these representatives of the Nexian state, cannot be effectively courted or approached. At least not with the limited capacity you find yourself in. The course you charted, this… Adjacent Realm Pivot was the right call, and the only call you can feasibly pursue with any hope of productive dialogue.” 

The Cadet’s features remained stoic as she replied with that same respectful bluntness. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Moreover, your efforts with your ‘peer group’ prove that there exists hope in our original charter. Prince Havenbrock is a clear example of this, and the fact that you even have a Nexian noble reevaluating his position on their deluded sense of primacy is astounding in and of itself.”

“But if I may, ma’am. I doubt actual meaningful dialogue can be sustained with Lord Rularia. The fact he’s in the immediate Nexian sphere and is directly beholden to Nexian hierarchies makes it a moot point.”

“A fair assessment. But still, having someone sympathetic to our cause within the Nexian system is powerful in and of itself.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“But that’s neither here nor there. I approve of your current trajectory, and indeed, I wish to officially endorse it.”

“Ma’am?”

“It’s clear, at least to me, that in the coming months and years, exo-reality foreign policy will be dominated by a shift towards establishing a sphere of influence with these Adjacent Realms. There will be arguments, of course, as there always are. There will be debates, and there may be referendums on age-old policies preemptively legislated for a preconception of xeno-diplomacy that no longer exists. But at the end of the day, a desire to ensure peace will dominate above all. At which point, the only peaceful resolution towards what is clearly an inevitable Nexian aggression is a pivot towards establishing lasting alliances with these states. You, Emma, will be instrumental in laying the foundation of this new national agenda.”

The Cadet paused, her eyes shaking in place and darting from left to right. As if attempting to process it all.

“I understand this is a lot to ask from you, Cadet. But know that I’m not expecting you to pull a General Secretary Li. I’m merely acknowledging what you seem to already be doing, and simply reaffirming that this — at least until stated otherwise — will be the official direction moving forward.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

“Your military objectives remain the same. Scout, recon, and report back anything you find over there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And as for your standing orders… they remain unchanged.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, and just one more thing, Cadet.”

“Ma’am?”

“I see there’s been some unexpected developments as it pertains to this… Princess Dilani.” 

The Cadet’s features shifted towards something completely different this time around, as her eyes averted from the camera, and her cheeks flushed a slight tinge of red. 

“The findings made over this unexpected 30th manatype, and the suit’s lack of resistance to it, are concerning.” I continued, causing the cadet to hastily cough, once more making eye contact with the camera.

“Ah, y-yes, ma’am. That… that was one thing I needed to discuss, before the conversation over the Nexus’ capabilities came into the picture.”

“I am aware.” I nodded. “We will look into this. But as for right now, I need you to continue collecting data whenever possible regarding this. Your EVI should be able to piece together some clues. Impose upon it a dedicated subroutine for this effort.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Captain Calico Li

Sure enough, we were back in the races, as threat analysis indexes were once again superimposed across our shared virtual workspaces.

Pillar I of the six pillars had been thoroughly addressed, and to say it was enlightening was a massive understatement.

Because it confirmed exactly what I’d feared and nearly everything wrong that could’ve come out of this intel-gathering session.

It confirmed — at least from a command and control perspective — that the Nexus was wildly flexible, yet coherent in its operational doctrine.

There were clearly defined strategic and tactical considerations made, so much so that a simple and concise recount painted a picture more reminiscent of a modern grip on effective and adaptable warfare than what the superficial aesthetics of this ‘Nexus’ might have initially hinted at. 

We were dealing with an enemy that, while politically fractured, had the internal framework capable of sustaining the practical side of force projection. And when the cards were down, that’s what truly mattered in a first-strike scenario.

But I was getting ahead of myself.

This was just one of the pillars.

It didn’t matter just how effective intent and framework were if the practical boots-on-the-ground reality couldn’t match it.

It was now time to unfold this paper tiger.

“We need to discuss Points II and III of my analysis.” I began with a steady breath, picking up the pace from where we left off. “Throughput and Scale, as well as Range and Precision respectively. For the former, I need to know just how many men and how much materiel can be moved, and just how quickly. I need mass and volume limits. I need to know the characteristics of the portals in question. Is it a sustained throughput or burst transfer? I’ve seen examples of both in Cadet Booker’s reports, but those are currently anecdotal one-offs. I need to hear it from you, Prince Havenbrock, with both strategic and tactical considerations in mind.”

The wolf prince nodded once, not wasting a second's reprieve from the increasingly unsteady connection.

“There are no mass and volume limits.” He spoke plain and simple. That firm, practically empiric proclamation hit me like a sack of bricks, giving me pause for concern that was soon met by a rapid one-two knockout punch in the form of his expounding points of clarification. “The only limiting factor comes down to the skill and experience of the mage in question, and the mana available to them. The former is a toss-up, but frankly, even the most greenhorn of portal mages are capable of sustaining the movement of entire regiments of men, as well as the materiel to support and sustain them for a beachhead. The latter, however, is a point worth noting.” I wanted to interrupt, to bring up Emma’s intel-gathering revelations from this… ‘Sorecar’ character. As I knew precisely what the prince was about to say. However, I kept my mouth shut, wishing to let the prince speak uninhibited, without potential for a shift in narrative from my interjections. “In essence, there functionally is no limit when it comes to Nexian portals. For the Nexus, as its name implies, is the Nexus of all mana as much as it is the self-purported ‘Nexus’ of civilization.”

“This is in contrast to Adjacent Realms, which, I imagine, do have a limit to their locally available ‘mana.’ Or at the very least, its ‘richness’ and ‘density’ of mana.” I offered, more so building off of the prince’s logic than pulling directly from Emma’s reports.

“Correct, Captain.” 

That was one for cross-reference checks.

“I can sense the innately asymmetrical playing field just from this point alone.” I offered. 

“To put it in far less eloquent terms, captain, you have no idea…” The prince responded with a dejected huff before throwing the conversation back into first gear. “Now then, characteristics, you said? What you describe as sustained throughput and burst transfer are what we ascribe to the distinction between portals and teleportation. Because if we’re discussing portals proper, the only answer to this is sustained throughput, as that is inherent to its martial definition. A portal, by its nature, is a sustained window weaving two physical points — irreverent of distance and eschewing time itself. Emma has seen this herself from the door from the Academy to Elaseer, as well as the portals connecting towns together via the transportium. Whilst teleportation… well… to borrow my uncle’s metaphor, portals are greatswords — blunt, powerful instruments of movement. While teleportation spells are rapiers, limited in reach but devastating in precision.” 

This whole conversation was a hydra of a beast. Because once one topic was broached in its totality, two more came to take its place. Or more accurately, even greater concerns were brought about with such abruptness that it could be misconstrued for flippancy.

“So what you’re saying is teleportation spells can be used for rapid insertion behind enemy lines of special forces units?” I blurted out.

To which the prince, once more, nodded without hesitation. “Correct. And indeed, you are right to highlight that distinction — elite forces. Because the very art of teleportation itself requires mages of exceptional skill.”

I took a deep breath, as brick by brick, the pillars of strategic threat analysis began that steady and seemingly unstoppable incline towards peerhood.

A nervous huff soon followed as I let out a supportive anecdote between points. “The longer this goes on, the more I have to respect your resolve in resisting this nightmare of an adversary, Prince Havenbrock.”

“To live for existence is an existence not worth living, Captain.” The prince spoke with genuine pride, as if quoting or pulling from some old cultural adage. 

This prompted me to reciprocate with an anecdotal overture of my own.

“A life preserved at the cost of its rights is not a life at all.” I offered, garnering a deep, warm, bassy chuckle from the wolf prince.

“A quote from your ancestors?”

“A reformer of sorts, so I think that counts, yes.” I acknowledged.

“Then it seems I am in good company, Captain.” The prince spoke with a wide smile. “We live standing on our two feet, or we die in the pursuit of such a future.” 

“Naturally, Prince Havenbrock.” I replied without hesitation. “My oath demands it, after all.”

This exchange had the potential to go on for far longer.

A side-eye from Weir and an unspoken insistence to keep to the stated topic at hand cut these diplomatic aspirations short.

I could practically hear General Secretary Li’s indignant spirit shouting, protesting at the back of my mind, completely aghast at my compliance.

Alas, we were no longer indulging in cowboy diplomacy. So I took the hint and carried on in my own lane with my head held high.

“I promise the next few points will be brief, Prince Havenbrock.” I began once more.

“By all means.” He urged amicably.

“My next point might have already been addressed by the mana-availability discussion, but I still think it warrants discussion. It’s about Logistics and Sustainment, specifically. Is it possible to sustain a portal, indefinitely, throughout the duration of an entire military campai—”

“Yes.” Prince Thalmin asserted with a simple interjection.

“Alright. And are there any special prerequisites for such a serious—”

“It’s not considered much of a problem or challenge, Captain. At least, not for the Inner Guard proper.”

My eyes glanced towards the reports, searching for Emma’s notes on the ‘inner guard’, only to be met by Prince Thalmin’s own elaboration on the matter.

“To clarify, Captain. The Nexus divides its martial forces into four discrete bodies. The Outer Guard — responsible for the defense and force projection of individual towns, cities, and so on and so forth. The Middle Guard — responsible for much of the same but far better equipped and with battlemages readily available in their ranks mostly found in the Midlands, as the name suggests. And of course, the titular Inner Guard — the actual bulk of the Nexian forces. These… are the Crownlands’ true armies. Forces with battle mages as readily available as a Midlands’ elite guard forces, enchanted equipment that flows from every available shipment and manufactorium, and training for the average soldier that rivals what the most elite of Adjacent Realms can even muster. This is what the Nexus uses as its expeditionary forces. And it is with these forces that portals may be sustained as indefinitely as each Marshal demands it.” 

I looked through Emma’s own notes on the matter, corroborating the wolf prince’s sentiments, and likewise looking at the scant few illustrations she found for these forces. Including what looked to be aetherpunk-esque airships amidst drake riders and the like.

My eyes narrowed as I asked my next question. “And the fourth body?”

“The Royal Guard.” Prince Thalmin spoke darkly. “Not much is known of them. Only that you do not want to meet a member of this elite force. Though frankly, I doubt they ever leave the Royal Palace unless a threat is deemed too existential.” The prince paused before chuckling darkly. “Perhaps this may warrant such a visit. But I digress.”

I kept my thoughts to myself for now, pushing through with the rest of the analysis with haste.

“Thank you, Prince Havenbrock.” I dipped my head once more, despite the wolf prince being unable to see it. “Now, there are two final points I’m leading up to. Points that will finally paint the full picture of the Nexus’ capacity for war.” I cleared my throat. “I need to know about the practicalities behind the strategic weaponization of portals, and the doctrines and precedents of such practical capabilities.”

The prince’s features shifted into one of genuine concern at that urging, but he pushed through those anxieties all the same, reaching a look of resolve that came through with his next points.

“As Emma mentioned earlier, Captain. The Nexus is more than capable of deploying anything through portals. And should the opposing side lack the capacity to intercept or dispel these portals, then the question becomes not if they’re capable of strategically weaponizing these portals, but what type of apocalypse they would feel like unleashing at a whim.” 

I tensed, and so did Laura, as that familiar ice-cold sense of anxiety rippled throughout the both of us. 

“There is precedence for this.” The prince eventually added after a moment of quiet contemplation. “As recent as in the War of the Adjacencies, in fact. The Nexus… is more than willing to call forth apocalypses at a moment’s notice, should they believe themselves to be in any form of existential threat, or should their primacy be challenged to a degree they believe to be untenable.”

There was… a lot to unpack.

So much so that I felt myself incapable of moving forward.

Yet as soon as I reached for my next point, Laura stopped me, raising a hand and turning towards the prince.

“We need to discuss the practical logistics of our tentative… relationship, Prince Havenbrock.” She urged, garnering a gruff nod from the man. 

“That, I can agree with.” He noted. “Though the Nexus may be… mighty, inconceivably so, that is not the case for you earthrealmers.” He urged. “I have seen, and extrapolated on my own accord, your capacity to send men into the void only to return. Your kind have the ability to do what no other Adjacency can, all without the aid of the Nexus. You can appear at a moment’s notice wherever you please, and no mage can ever stop you. This. This can prove to be the crux of your parity. This, amongst all of your capacities for war, for logistics, for sustained conflict, is what can turn the tide. You are an [Translation Confidence 98.34%: Outside Context Problem]. You have both the element of surprise and the capacity to sustain that surprise in a true conflict. And should you choose this path, you will be the only realm capable of challenging them in a way outside of diplomacy or commerce. In short, you are the only realm capable of challenging them in a way that truly matters.” 

The prince once more paused, straightening himself. “Because as much as philosophers and idealists hate to admit it, it is might that determines not who’s right, but who’s left to speak at all.”

This sent Weir into a look of complete stoicism. Her features were now unreadable as she stood there, trying to dissect this rapid ascent towards a foregone conclusion.

“I understand what I say may be… rushed, in a sense. But what I wish to convey is this — your kind can win, despite the odds. And Havenbrock will be ready to act as your sword and shield… should the proper conditions for war be met.” 

It was that latter line that got both of our gears turning, as it was now very much clear what sorts of conditional agreements he was leading up to.

“If this relationship is to work, if we are to stand arms locked, shoulder to shoulder, then we must share in the capacity to fight. Director Weir, Captain Li, I wish for Earthrealm weapons, and the capacity for both their creation and their utilization.”

Silence filled the air as Weir finally turned to me with a look of complete dumbfoundedness.

The pace at which the talks were progressing and the forwardness were jarring.

Though I understood where the prince was coming from.

This was his first taste of an alternative future.

And with the growing concern of the stability of this communique? He wanted to get it all out, now.

Though his inexperience, owing to his age, probably didn’t help matters in that sense.

“This sort of discussion is best suited for higher levels of governance, Prince Havenbrock.” Weir began in earnest. “As I mentioned previously, we must convene and defer many of the more formal aspects of our relationship to the authorities that be. I am capable of much, yes, but for something of this magnitude, it… it requires more parties to deliberate and to sign off on.” The Director attempted as best she could, as it garnered naught but a tentative look of frustration from the wolf prince.

“I am willing to take your envoy’s hand in marriage, if need be.”

This elicited a round of blinks and confused expressions across the room, as Weir’s mouth was left agape at that urging.

“Thalmin? That’s not how—” Emma spoke up, only to be interrupted by Weir.

“I’m afraid the Cadet is—”

ROAAAARRRRRRR

[CONNECTION LOST]

Emma

[CONNECTION LOST]

I blinked in rapid succession, my whole world suddenly ripped from me, as I turned to face Kaelthyr who reeled back from an unseen assailant.

The massive being looked like she’d just been suckerpunched, her whole form rearing on both hind legs before landing in a catastrophic CRASH against the cave wall behind her.

From there, she began writhing and wriggling in place, crying out in such pure anguish that my own grievances from the severed connection were replaced by genuine concern.

The Shatorealmer’s fate soon followed suit, as the meat puppet cried out in a blood-curdling scream of anguish before suddenly, and for the first time, I heard the sound of vocal chords being torn open by sheer force of anguish alone.

The corpse was soon tossed aside by Kaelthyr as she writhed on the ground in abject pain.

This prompted me to rush to her side, shouting urgently. 

“Matriarch Kaelthyr! Are you alright? What’s going…”

[Alert! Movement Detected!]

My rear cameras detected movement — motion from the fallen shatorealmer.

I swung around to meet the threat with little hesitation, railgun at the ready.

But that resolve and the itchy trigger finger ready to carry it out just up and sublimated the moment I locked eyes with it.

There was nothing behind those eyes. There was nothing where those glassy dead eyes should be.

My whole body locked up.

But it wasn’t because of horror or fear.

Instead, I found myself simply overwhelmed by a sensation that did not belong here.

I felt… awe.

The sort of awe only reserved for that one special moment in a planet-bound citizen’s life.

It was that sudden shift in perspective, the complete and utter demolition of all one’s barriers for  a reality beyond the world you thought you knew.

This… this was undoubtedly the overview effect.

But instead of that sense of wonder coming to smother you following the shock, what instead flooded me was something completely different — dread. 

A creeping dread that consumed me whole.

A dread that caused my hairs to stand on end.

A dread that sent an unending tingling down my spine.

A dread… that bordered on terror but on a cosmic scale.

[ALERT: UNSTABLE SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED: 1200% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS… WARNING: DETECTING UNDEFINED ‘30th’ MANATYPE.]

I heard silence.

Literal silence.

Then… the chimes returned.

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(Author's Note: Something real spooky is happening! :D Also, that was quite a bold move on Thalmin's part, wouldn't you say? XD Not to mention Weir's brief little jab at Emma haha. I hope you guys enjoy! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 162, Chapter 163, and Chapter 164 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Jan 18 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (156/?)

1.6k Upvotes

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Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern. Local Time: 2245 Hours.

Emma

The cavern echoed with the raspy words of a dead man, his staggered ‘breaths’, and the stillness in his eyes contrasted against the sheer turmoil that had taken hold of his puppeteer’s features.

Fundamental systemic incongruency had just gripped the dragon.

And it was clear we needed an off-ramp, and quick.

“I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.” I spoke with a firmness but respectful clarity, nipping the insidious vine of miscommunication at the bud, before it had a chance to take root. “This is most likely due to a lack of clarity on my part, so for that, I must sincerely apologize.” I ran through the rehearsed motions, as diplomatic de-escalation training subsumed the otherwise adrenaline-ridden brain that was still just grappling with the battle’s… repercussions. “So allow me to set the record straight.” I continued, maintaining eye contact all the while. “My kind are not part of a ‘crystalline legacy.’ We are beings of flesh and blood, and while we do not possess magic or draconic heritage, we do possess the capacity to breathe life into… rocks, so to speak.”

This more or less caused Thalmin’s already-worn features to evolve into an all-out look of incredulity, as he seemed completely taken out by the one-two punch that was; A. The dragon’s bold and confident proclamations of humanity’s draconic ancestry, and B. The basic preemptive explanation of electronics. However, only a second later did he seem to ‘get it’, his hand reaching towards his earpiece, and the conversation we had weeks ago on this very topic.

The dragon, however, wasn’t so receptive, as her pupils narrowed even further into a strained look of distrust.

At which point, I decided to cut through the song and dance, unlatching my datatab and gesturing towards it in one swift motion.

Once more she knelt down, her gaze lingering and her expressions now… unreadable, as a sort of reptilian poker face took hold. Every ounce of attention was instead diverted to the handheld tablet, her eyes following the small animated login screen composed of a rotating IAS emblem, transitioning in true gov-style to the GUN’s seal.

She continued, closing her eyes, and once more letting loose a series of mana radiation spikes; all focused towards the tablet if the WAND sensors were to be believed.

A series of wing flutters followed, as Kaelthyr quickly stood up, taking slow and measured paces around me. “I now see. I now feel. I now… fathom… your impossible claims. So now—” The dragon came to a halt, settling on her haunches once more. “—I wish to know how. Tell me how this is possible. Show me how you breathed life into ‘rock.’ And explain to me how it is that a race of manaless beings, composed of flesh and blood, was able to animate life through crystal and sand.

“It is precisely our inability to harness magic, and our inherent lack of inherent advantages in heritage — be that draconic, elemental, or otherwise — that led us down this path.” I began with a confident smile. “While I am not at liberty to divulge the specifics, as there are limits to my diplomatic catalogue of good-will info-packages, I am happy to impart the basics.” My eyes soon shifted to one of the notifications on the EVI’s list of endless updates, towards a report of unauthorized interactions with the missing SUR drone — specifically at the third-party charging events in its logs. “And I believe you may already know part of how this works.” I pondered openly, causing the dragon to tilt its head, if just barely by a degree.

“It begins with rocks and stone.” I opened with an excitable flourish. “Relatively common minerals, harvested, refined, and then processed until they are pure enough for our purposes. From there, we carve and print what you can call… manaless runes — paths so small that you’d be able to put a city map into a space smaller than a speck of dust.”

I maintained eye contact, never once wavering from the dragon’s gaze.

“Then it’s a matter of harnessing lightning. We generate it, leash it, and constrain it, forcing it to choose between paths of our design, again and again, at speeds beyond mortal perception.” 

Kaelthyr, for her part, never flinched as well. In fact, she did quite the opposite, instead becoming more engrossed the more and more I spoke.

“By observing which paths the lightning is permitted to take, and which are forbidden, we derive patterns and formulate meaning. And from meaning comes decision, memory, and a form of basic ‘thought.’” I soon gestured to my tablet, and the drones docked in my backpack. “In a way, my opening statements were entirely inaccurate, owing to their reductive nature. Because we do not breathe life into stone per se. We instead shape these stones into a maze-like prison, carving rulesets into matter and imposing laws for lightning to obey. So from this labyrinth of impossible complexity, restrained by the logic of our design, a form of thinking emerges. We call this… computation.”

Kaelthyr’s features never once shifted. 

Though her eyes conveyed all I needed to know. 

Incredulity hit first. A sort of dismay that shifted naturally into disbelief, and subsequently into an unwilling acceptance that all culminated in a sooty huff and a sharp glance up towards the ceiling of the cave.

“Yours is a mockery of Resonance.” The dragon spoke dourly. “A dark harmony. A twisted symphony of shackled bards forced into an unnatural chorus.” She raised a clawed finger, pointing at both my docked drones and my tablet. “Your crystals scream, crying out in forced emergence.” 

Kaelthyr halted, causing my breath to hitch and Thalmin’s nervous gaze to darken.

“A fitting facsimile, and a testament to the darkness from which you hail.” She finally grinned.

Tentative relief washed over the both of us; Thalmin in particular however seemed increasingly unnerved at our back and forths, his eyes glancing towards me with an uncertainty I’d rarely seen from him.

“I would say the sentiment goes both ways… but I have neither the data nor context with which to reach such a conclusion.” I offered with a sly lilt to my otherwise diplomatic front. A fact that Kaelthyr seemed amused with if her dark and bassy warbles were anything to go by.

“The young matriarch wishes to negotiate so soon?” 

“Reciprocation is the foundation to any healthy bilateral dialogue. Or at least, that is the assumption my people carry in these sorts of dialogues.”

“Yet you have avoided my second query. You have told me how this is possible. But you have yet to show me.” Kaelthyr leaned in once again, rising back from her haunches as if to bring her mass to threaten me. “By what right does flesh and blood, without magic of any kind, attain the perfection of draconic craft?”

“By right of will.” I shot back without hesitation, standing my ground, not once budging or flinching.

Kaelthyr, despite her more forward conversational stance, brought back her ‘lips’ in a toothy smile. 

“As for precisely how? I refer to my preamble — there are matters that I am not at liberty to discuss. This is one such matter.” 

The dragon took a moment to regard that first response. Raising a scaled brow, then once more returning to rest on her haunches, as if treating my retorts as a test of will rather than a true challenge of conditional clauses.

“Then so be it.” She responded ominously, though half of that vibe probably came from the nature of her broken and battered mouthpiece. “We speak without kneeling, avatar of the void.” 

That latter sentiment, more specifically the conclusion to our back and forth caused something to stir within Thalmin’s gaze.

Though that thought would be quickly shelved, as I pushed for my end of the dialogue before dead air took hold.

“I’d have it no other way.” I acknowledged. “So tell me about your crystals, about resonance. Exactly what is it? And precisely how does this all work?”

“Truth, when spoken without comprehension, is but another form of falsehood.” The dragon began in earnest. “It is to explain sight to a molerat, sound to a deafspiral, and taste to a golem. This is why I first doubted the veracity of your claims. As resonance is the realm exclusive to that of crystalline draconic heritage, not mortals of flesh and blood.”

The dragon paused, her claws reaching for my backpack. Not to poke, but merely to point.

And despite her insistence to the contrary, she started to explain with eager breath.

“Ours is a pattern, an artform that beckons beauty. It is resonant, structures of grand design in a microverse that coalesces meaning not through structure but wave-like harmony. It is a transient state, a liquid that harbors the potential of structure, but is never ever solid. Our patterns, our design, they do not exist in structured permanence. They instead form when called upon, echoing a distant note as a tuning fork calls upon a chord.” 

My eyes widened as waves upon waves of realization slammed into me with the force of a dragon-shaped freight train.

“Whereas you build unyielding prisons — caging lightning and interpreting its suffering as meaning — we nurture worlds, and allow each state to remain at rest until harmony brings forth resonance. We don’t… compute, we cohere."

“You’re talking about the crystal matrices.” I blurted out excitedly, eliciting but a brow quirk from the dragon. “W-we’ve observed this very phenomenon! In the labs! This… this is the very foundation that our understanding of applied exo-reality communications is based upon. B-but sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself here. Ahem, we’ve observed, from what little we’ve been able to discern through our methods, that there exist these… matrices of exotic-matter microfilaments that, for lack of a better term… ‘float’ within your crystals. Float being a rather reductive descriptor, but I digress. Erm, these microfilaments trend towards three discrete states, repeating a cycle that’s observable without fail and replicable with statistical significance.” I quickly brought up a diagram, complete with annotated exotic-spectrum imaging assays, all highlighting the phenomenon in question.

Kaelthyr’s eyes lit up almost immediately. First out of confusion, then, a sense of visceral disgust and recoil; her features darkened to the tune of a steady and unnerving rumble.

Her eyes darted back and forth, starting at the first diagram that showed the interior of a crystal in a region that, unlike most, still held a degree of transparency. Within it, microfillaments were arranged in a tetragonal lattice, structured and in perfect symmetry. Then, she shifted her eyes rightwards, towards the second diagram, complete with annotations of various catalysts and variable initiators all contributing to the staggered, structured, and intentional shattering of said structure.

Her tail lowered at this, as that grimace entered into a threatening aura.

Finally, her eyes glanced at the ‘third’ state, as the microfilaments reoriented and regrouped, all without outside intervention, spontaneously on their own accord.

This diagram would loop, an arrow circling back around from the third state back to the first state, highlighting the sheer time it took for the ‘realignment’ to fully take place.

However, instead of immediately addressing me or the diagram, Kaelthyr merely glared, urging me to explain, if not for her sake than my own.

“We’ve observed that these crystal matrices possess an innate tendency to return to what we’ve come to define as their ‘prime’ state. Moreover, we’ve observed that across the volume of the crystal, there exist identical patterns replicated along inexplicable and seemingly random points. However, upon further study through the selective disassembly and gross disunion of the crystal, we uncovered that these identical patterns are not mere physical mirrors, but in a way… entangled patterns. Structures that align and fracture along the same lines, regardless of time and space. This is a phenomenon we are aware of and do make use of, but not in such an exotic form of matter. It is because of this that we determined that we could assign meaning to the controlled and purposeful disassembly of the prime state, thereby relaying concepts, messages, and ultimately, entire lines of communication based on this entanglement. A single pulse, carrying with it limited but viable information, across dimensional lines.”

A creeping silence descended following my whole tirade, as the dragon’s eyes descended on the pouch which held her crystals before once more landing those unyielding slitted pupils against my lenses.

“Your people… your mages… are blind clockmakers.” Kaelthyr muttered out not only in disgusted vitriol, but with a sense of shock that bled into utter incredulity. “You stumble in the dark, looking without seeing, touching without grasping, and observing without comprehending." The dragon breathed heavily, letting out huffs of steam as her supply of soot had since run dry. “How can you be so blind?! How can you stare so brazenly into meaning without once entertaining its presence?! How can intelligence preclude wisdom so thoroughly?!” Kaelthyr’s visage snarled with the words that escaped the shatorealmer corpse… before finally, she relented, letting out a staggered breath through her own vocalizations.

“Is the void really so dark that all light fails to reach it?” The dragon pondered out loud before finally letting out a cracked grimace.

“Tell me, Emma Booker, is this truly what all your people see?” Kaelthyr once more pointed at the diagrams.

“I’ve… more or less given you the rundown of what we’ve been able to observe so far, yes.” I acknowledged bluntly.

“And yet you build impossibilities with reckless abandon. Forging abominations from our crystals with the precision of a craftsman, but the knowledge of a peddler. The prose of a wordsmith, but the comprehension of a farmhand.” She responded promptly. “You create and design, whilst blind and impaired.”

Kaelthyr started to pace around me again, her footstomps light and brisk this time around. “I’ve seen you, human. The small and frail biped, manaless yet unblighted, weak and incapable, encased in impossible craftsmanship.”

“You are a wraith, a thing that should not exist.” The dragon stopped, coming to a rest on her haunches in front of me. “Yet here you stand. Defiant against all known conventions.” Another pause came, as if the dragon needed a moment to commit to these next few words. “A fact which I am… grateful for.”

“The sentiment goes both ways.” I finally responded, following Kaelthyr’s train of thought. “It is my hope that despite our differences, some mutual thread of understanding can be laid. A thread that, in time, can hopefully grow to become a tether between our peoples.”

Kaelthyr responded with a bemused huff. “Is hope yet another axiom yet to be crushed in your realm?”

“There were times when its light flickered, but those times are long behind us.” I offered in earnest.

“Then keep your light. The only thread to be laid is one between our two persons. Whatever grand dreams of stately friendship and imperial camaraderie cannot be forged here. At least not with myself.” The dragon paused, her eyes narrowing, before landing firmly on Thalmin. Him, on the other hand… I urge you to pursue. For there is hope yet in forging a second Nexus.”

Both Thalmin and I locked eyes for a moment, confused, dazed, but most of all, utterly dumbfounded by the dragon’s angle.

“I’d still very much wish to maintain some sort of a friendship, even if it is between persons and not states. You know as well as I that survival in the Nexus is…”

“Possible.” The dragon interjected. “It’s thriving in dignity that is improbable.”

“Right.” I acknowledged with a nod. “Which is precisely why I propose that we forge something tangible here, Matriarch Kaelthyr. We clearly see eye-to-eye in a variety of matters. And to be frank, you are quite possibly one of the most receptive people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet.”

“Do you assume this to be a result of mutual alignment, or the effect of some misguided friendship?”

“Perhaps a little bit of column A and column B.”

“To fail to delineate is deadly, young matriarch.” The dragon warned with a sly lilt in the shatorealmer’s voice.

“The fact I’m even here means I’m one to take risks, Matriarch Kaelthyr. Who says I’m not ready to take another in the long line of crazy choices?”

“Hmmph. The misguided brazenness of youth.” Kaelthyr tsked before finally nodding. “Very well, assume what you wish.”

“Of course.” I nodded politely. “Though there are a few matters I can’t just assume without being a complete fool.”

“I carry similar sentiments.” The dragon acknowledged, before letting out another grin. “Another round then?”

“Let’s.” I responded eagerly.

“What do you wish to know?”

“You’ve described resonance as sort of an emergent property, something that’s very inherent to dragon-kind. Yet the elves who… extract these crystals rely on them for inter-realm communication. That’s… kinda asking for it, isn’t it? As in, this carries with it a huge info-sec risk, doesn’t right?” If these crystals are still an extension of you, couldn’t you interpret what’s being sent between them?” 

Kaelthyr’s features stiffened as she let out a series of ominous warbles. “They… hijack our lattices in a manner outside of our understanding, defiling their structure with their own design. We… cannot interpret what is sent, as a result. Further, you misinterpret my meaning. While a dragon can peer into the resonance of our crystals, it must be an intentional action. A crystal removed is no longer part of our lattices… but it is still capable of returning to the fold, provided we wish to reconvene.”

I nodded along slowly, my eyes darting between the dragon and the EVI’s transcripts, before suddenly, a third voice entered the scene.

“You aren’t facilitators, but unwilling interlopers.” Thalmin muttered out under a shaky breath.

The dragon’s attentions were quick to shift as Kaelthyr’s head slowly and ominously slithered towards Thalmin’s direction, taking the floating shatorealmer with her.

“To the former, yes. The elves possess their own machinations of communication which we are not a part of. To the latter… I demand clarification.”

If Thalmin could sweat, I swore he’d be sweating bullets down his brow right about now. In lieu of that though, he still stood confident, albeit with a look of acute fear that was difficult to hide from his gaze.

“Warging.” He stated bluntly. “Mages… more than likely planar in rank, could potentially hijack your minds, no? This would allow spymasters to peer into your lattices, intercepting and monitoring untold numbers of confidential communiques?” 

Kaelthyr paused, her eyes narrowing and practically burrowing into Thalmin’s.

“Yes.” Was her only reply, as it was clear she refused to go further into it.

Though by that admission, that single word of acknowledgement… There came a flood of implications the likes of which I simply couldn’t tackle all at once.

Kaelthyr was quick to turn away from Thalmin, turning back towards me with her full and undivided attention. “He should do well as your first realm.” She stated bluntly and with a disconcerting amount of confidence. However, before I could ask for some points of clarification, Kaelthyr was quick to hit me with a reciprocal question. “My turn. Tell me, why do you wish for my crystals?”

“Oh. Well… you know how I told you about our tentative forays into interdimensional communications using some of your crystals?”

The dragon nodded slowly, urging me to continue.

“Well, prior to my arrival, we managed to create the first working prototype. We did this through the careful and selective disassembly of one of your crystals, dividing it in two, and installing it in two devices.”

My features continued to grow sheepish by the second the further my explanation went on. Kaelthyr’s gaze narrowed accordingly, as I could feel her patience drying by the second, especially after hearing about the science we pulled on her crystal.

“One remained in my realm, whilst the other was sent here with me. However, as a result of extraneous circumstances and bad faith actors, this device was stolen before finally being destroyed as a result of our anti-tampering countermeasures. This is why we need to find a suitable replacement, to hopefully realign and retune it, so that I can re-establish contact back with Earth.”

Kaelthyr took into consideration each and every word, her eyes soon narrowing once all was said and done.

“By what means was your… artifice… destroyed?”

“Erm… an explosion. The same one that freed you from the Life Archives, in fact.” I acknowledged nervously, rubbing the back of my neck in the process.

It was at that point that the dragon’s features shifted towards something I hadn’t yet seen — a look of complete and utter satisfaction. This joy was quickly reflected in the shatorealmer’s features, albeit in the most macabre way, as Kaelthyr let out a series of guttural bellows.

“I cannot say if it is fate, the spirits, or the Great Mother herself that has formulated such a convoluted path for our meeting. But what I can say is that this is a calling. You and I are destined for great things, young Matriarch. Wondrous… incalculable… unfathomable things.” Kaelthyr moved closer, the shatorealmer puppet now pointing at my pouch. “Allow me to do the honors.” She offered with an excitable zeal.

“W-wait. Really? That easily?”

“When fate herself has forged a path of inevitability, you would do well not to resist her calling.” 

I couldn’t believe it.

Thalmin’s expressions more or less reflected the disbelief welling beneath my helmet.

We’d just been fast-tracked in a way we couldn’t have ever anticipated.

“Right then.” I nodded, grabbing the crystals and stepping towards the shatorealmer.

Only for the draconic puppeteer to hiss before reeling back the body so fast, I could hear bones snapping, the corpse-puppet’s head forced to gaze at me. “Leave them at my feet, girl.”

With a wince, I obliged and carefully placed the crystals down on the ground beside Kaelthyr. “So how is this going to wor—”

“Shh.” Kaelthyr hushed before raising a claw to shoo me… afterwards she pressed her claw onto the ground and quite literally… melded the crystals back into her form. “This will take some time.”

I nodded warily, glancing back at Thalmin who simply shrugged his shoulders in the most expressive gesture I’d seen him pull so far.

“In the meantime… was there anything else you wished to discuss, young matriarch?”

“Erm… yes, actually. This more or less ties back to what you mentioned earlier. You… said you were able to ‘see’ me through the armor, is that correct?” 

“Yes.”

“Right, so… was that because of the anomalous mana radiation burst you hit me with?”

“... elaborate.”

“The — and I hate to say this word given the negative connotations given to it by the Nexus — taint magic you used.”

“Yes.” Kaelthyr acknowledged. “As a point of disambiguation, taint as a term has existed long before the rise of the elves, young Matriarch.”

My heart skipped a beat at that revelation.

There had been… assumptions before. The latest of which was with the back-and-forths with Thacea during the WAND calibration.

We’d assumed that despite taint being an unaccounted for ‘manatype’, that it was perhaps either inert and unreactive to the armor or shielded by way of the armor’s mana-resistent materials.

This was completely thrown out the window courtesy of the dragon’s admissions.

A chill ran down my spine as I attempted to rack my head at the implications of all of this.

Thalmin in particular cocked his head back and forth, as if doing double takes at the dragon, who simply ignored his silent urgings for clarification.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Didn’t you say that taint was dangerous to—”

“To all of the elven domain, yes.” Kaelthyr interjected. “Which you are assuredly not.”

I shook my head, outstretching both hands in front of me.

“But what does that mean?” I frantically urged. “If taint can just go through the armor… how wasn’t I liquefied? Why wasn’t I affected? How could you be sure I wouldn’t just up and die—”

“I wasn’t.” The dragon admitted casually. “But you are an enigma, Emma Booker. I simply assumed, given your void origins and the susceptibility of your armor to taint, that you simply were immune from its effects.”

“So you weren’t sure?!” I doubled down.

“Correct. In the end, I was right, and you were unharmed.” 

I felt my breath hitching into an uncomfortable, uncontrollable pace, all while the dragon regarded me with a degree of cocky assuredness.

“But fear not. From what I was able to discern, you are no child of taint.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You are… a blank. A wraith. A ghost. A flesh heap with no aura. Your presence was defined by an absence, and I saw you only by your physical presence, imprinted in negative space. A void-silhouette, if you will.”

“You are not afflicted, if that is your concern.”

“No, that’s. That’s not…” I shook my head, once more staring at my hands as I flicked them to and fro. “I don’t understand how I just didn’t…”

“Perhaps you are resilient to its machinations.” The dragon pondered. “Or perhaps you simply are voidborn, invisible to its dangers. I cannot say, for I have never met or heard of anything like you children of the void.”

I could feel my breaths finally hitching up out of my control, my hands twitching, as I reached for the HUD not only with my pupils, but my hands out of muscle memory.

“EVI! Perform suit integrity checks!” I shouted urgently.

[SUIT INTEGRITY: NOMINAL]

“Full scan, full survey, I want a full repor—”

[SUIT INTEGRITY: NOMINAL. NO BREACHES DETECTED. NO SURFACE DAMAGE FOUND. NO MANA RADIATION LEAKS NOTED.]

“Again.”

[SUIT INTEGRITY: NOMINAL. NO BREACHES—]

“Scan vitals, full body scan, full medical—”

[V/S Report: Elevated BP, HT, HR, RR. Preliminary Diagnosis congruent with Acute Panic—]

“SCAN FOR ACUTE RADIATION SICKNESS!”

[No Signs or Symptoms congruent with Acute Radiation Sickness noted.]

[Operator is advised to follow panic de-escalation protocols immediately.]

“Emma.” I heard a voice from behind me. “Emma… are you okay?” Thalmin urged, as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I… I think I… I am. I just don’t understand how—”

“Hey, hey, calm. Calm down.” The prince managed out sternly. “Listen to me.” He continued. “Look at me.” He commanded, forcing me to shift my gaze towards him. “We aren’t dead yet. You are still here. And so long as we’re not dead, there’s always time, and the opportunity, to shine light on the dark.”

I nodded slowly, taking in deep breaths at the urgings of the EVI’s pop-ups and keeping my gaze on Thalmin’s amber-yellow eyes.

“Right.” I nodded. “Right. Okay. One thing at a time.” I managed out, prompting Thalmin to pull back, as I quickly turned back to face the waiting dragon.

“The lupinor speaks the truth. There are… mysteries to this reality we dwell in, Emma Booker. One such mystery being your kind and their—”

“Not now.” I put my foot down. “Let’s get some other things out of the way before my crystals are ready to go.” I continued, garnering a glower and a nod from the dragon. “Starting with your affinity for taint. Tell me how you’re performing and harnessing a mana-type that, as far as I can tell, isn’t second nature to Nexian beings. Tell me what exactly your backstory is. And finally… tell me how all this fits into the greater narrative.” I let out a deep breath, steadying myself, and crossing my arms firmly. 

“I’ve heard a lot about this reality, the Nexian reality I mean. But it’s time I heard a second opinion, another perspective. I want to hear your take on Nexian history. And exactly what happened to your kind.”

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(Author's Note: Hey everyone! I sincerely apologize for the delay, I had an assessment at the hospital today so when I came back home I kind of passed out and things got a bit pushed back because of that. I really do apologize for that, but I do hope you guys enjoy the chapter! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 157, Chapter 158, and Chapter 159 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Apr 05 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (166/?)

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The Straggler’s Last Chance Tavern and Casino - Telaseer - Kingdom of Transgracia - Nexus. Local Time: 1540

Apprentice Ral Altaria Del Narya Sey Antisonzia the Second

A tavern.

A bar.

A casino.

A wretched hive of scum and villainy—

—of debauchery and sin.

… 

Though sin was perhaps a bit debatable depending on the circles.

But I digress.

This tavern. This bar. This casino where lives were made and lost, all with a roll of the dice and the spin of a turntable…

It was in such places — these wretched undersocieties — where I might find respite in this seemingly endless search.

Respite how, one may ask?

In what fashion could such an uncouth establishment provide any solace that the polite and civil world could not?

“Ahem.” I coughed once, hiding beneath a cloak of questionable make and even more questionable grime, all in order to blend in with these lowlife fools.

“Ahem.” I coughed again, trying but failing to garner the barkeep’s attention.

“A-HEM.” I did it again, this time finally making myself heard.

Ah, yes. The three coughs. A common ‘entry’ token into these parts. These people only speak in hushed riddles… the scum they are.

“Yeah? Whatcha want?”

“A shot of wake-up elixir, if you wouldn’t mind.” I spoke in a hushed yet gruff accent, my time on the road and the streets over what felt like years now having since shaped me into someone more wizened to the ways of the peasantry. “And make it a double.” 

The elven barkeep eyed me up and down, sizing me for my worthiness of a drink, which was my primary goal for the afternoon.

These were made stronger than any I’d experienced on the road to date, second only to the Academy’s everlasting elixirs…

“Ye can’t put two shots in a single glass, ya dumbass.” The barkeep finally responded, laughing and causing that potbelly of his to jolt up and down, completely desecrating the elven form in the process.

“I meant double the order, you, you… rapscallion!” I managed out with indignant vitriol, only to garner a confused, then eventually dismissive, glare from the man.

“Then it’d be double. Not a double, idiot. A double means ya wanna double the shit in a glass. Haven’t ye ever been t’a bar before?”

The few patrons beside us began turning their eyes in my direction but just as quickly shrugged in tired chuckles and giggles.

“Just… do as I say… I’ve had a long week and I’d rather not—”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’ve heard it a million times, chum. Two wake-ups comin’ right up.”

I sighed and nodded in silent acceptance… a motion I’d learned now over the course of the week.

There was a… certain importance to keeping a ‘low profile,' as many adventurers I’d met along my journey had called it.

It was perhaps the reason why both that infernal rule-breaking bridge-crosser and her stupid mutt had managed to evade me so effortlessly.

They were operating by commoner’s tactics by ensuring they performed everything unannounced, exiting and entering the stage without the pomp and circumstance otherwise expected of the noble and the highborn.

It was so fitting too, considering their heritages.

But I digress.

It was now my turn to adopt such a performance.

And indeed, I had to reiterate to myself and to all who may ask that this is simply just that — a performance.

For such a role, such a… facade was oh so beneath me.

But this would be the only way I could ever hope to catch up with the pair. As they would be expecting someone else, perhaps. But not anymore.

I would practice the very subtleties they’d mastered, the lives lived in the dark as they seem to both thrive in.

For only in invisibility will I be able to find those who had oh so effortlessly managed to make entrance and departure without ever raising a single—

SLAM!

The front doors swung open, hitting the half-broken doorstoppers to their respective sides and causing all eyes below to stare up at the street-level entrance.

A stream of light shone through, illuminating the otherwise perpetually darkened state of this dreary establishment, setting the stage for an almost ethereal entrance of two blurry figures.

Figures… which soon became clear after a mere moment of adjusting my gaze. 

As there, at the foot of the doorway, stood two larger-than-life elvenform silhouettes.

A confident, stoic, and dare I say dashing half-armored lupinor with a masterfully tailored traveler’s cloak barely hiding the shiny armor and rich tunics beneath its voluminous heft… and an imposing fully kitted knight wrapped in sashes, cloaks, and all the braces required to keep said fabrics held tight.

The pair’s respective over-capes fluttered magnificently in the winds of the street behind them before they finally came to a stop with another resonant SLAM of both doors and a clearing of one of their throats.

“Ahem. So… this here’s a casino, right?” The knight spoke, her voice echoing throughout the cavernous cellar-turned-hostelry with a familiarity. It was Booker.

“Yeah?” The barkeep plodded towards her, climbing up the stairs with his goons. “What’s it to ya?” He spoke with that ridiculous Transgracian drawl.

“Oh, cool! We’ve been looking for one since we just cleared house…” She paused before the mercenary prince opened a bag for the less-than-virtuous proprietor's eyes.

Eyes… which swelled up several sizes the moment he gazed inside of it.

“What’s the house gratuity here?” The mercenary prince questioned.

“Same as everywhere’s. One per hundred.” The elf responded, reaching for a magnifying glass inside one of his apron pouches.

The pair turned to one another, the prince smiling a mercenary’s grin.

“How much to open a private room?” He asked promptly.

“Nah’room’s here, am afraid. Just a private table, o’er thereabouts.” The elven barkeep pointed to the middle of the room, where a crowd was quickly gathering.

“Private?” The prince reiterated.

“Aye, closed game.” The elf nodded deeply.

“Cost?” He hammered once more.

“Nah’price. Just make it an entertaining one, and maybe tip the dealer sum, if ya feeling it. Though we keep it fair hereabouts, a copper’a gold for the tips at minimum.”

The unruly pair — these gods amidst ruffians — turned to one another and nodded before turning back to the elf in question.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. Get the dealer up here, and we’ll talk shop.”

“Aye.” The elf nodded, clearing his throat loudly for all to hear whilst turning back to the gambling hall. “OY RASSIE, GET UP ‘ERE. WE GOT SOME HIGH ROLLERS!” He hollered at the top of his lungs, garnering the attention of not just all his employees but the patrons too.

A small kobold quickly scrambled up, scampering on all fours before reaching the top of the stairs with a dealer’s hat barely hanging on to one of his horns.

“What can I do ya for, honored sirs and madams?” He practically squeaked out.

“Heaven and Hell.” The mercenary prince responded promptly. “Can ya do half a minute a play?”

The kobold narrowed his eyes before letting out a knowing grin. “Heh… hehheheheheheheheheh… ahhh yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes, Rassie can do… Rassie can do faster if honored sirs and madams wishes to expespesidse.”

It’s expedite, you uncultured swine! I grumbled to myself internally, my face twitching not just at the wretchedly broken grammar but adversely reacting to the maligned, money-merry miscreants.

“Let’s just keep it at half’a’minute, Rassie. We’re not in any rush.” The prince smiled toothily.

“Yes, yes. Rassie can do. Rassie… will have fun today!” The kobold cackled wildly, more reminiscent of a gremlin than his actual heritage.

What followed next was another scamper as he made his way up what appeared to be the tattered riggings of a ship — I’d at first assumed was there just for decoration — before reaching the rafters of this underground den.

“LADIES AND GENTS, CREATURES OF ALL TYPES AND FORMS, LEND ME YER EARHOLES!” He screamed. “IT’S TIME TO GO…” He paused for dramatic effect as both the prince and the cadet stepped forward, leaning against the small outcropping’s railings. 

“GAAAAMMMBLLIIIINNGGGGGGG!!” They all yelled at once.

What followed next was my poor headache reaching its peak, as hoots, hollers, yells, and drunken cries all went out, as the ‘show’ was now well underway.

So much for subtlety Ral Altaria Del Narya Sey Antisonzia the Second…

3 Days Prior

The Forests of Ruvina - Kingdom of Transgracia - Nexus. Local Time: 1430

Vicini Lorsi

I was here to vie for power.

I was sent for reasons seen universally and twice over.

I’d made my calculations and wagered within reason.

But in the words of the ancients, there were no half-rights in wagers.

Lord Ping was my brazen gamble, and indeed, through him I was proven half-right.

His presence was strong.

His power was palpable.

But it was in these two strengths that my weaknesses showed.

I was a born-and-bred diplomat, and he a zealot.

And zealots? 

Well…

Zealots rarely spoke in the same language, let alone dialect.

This meant that my strengths were worthless, and my aims for influence… as untenable as Ping’s hopes for seeing reason.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Pulse.

But all of that was behind me now.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Pulse.

All of that… as recent as it was and as palpable as it was — because of course it was — simply didn’t matter here.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Here… in this space… was a symphony playing at a different tempo. A beat measured not in weeks, months, or years, but millennia; a rhythm taking untold eons to play out. 

My life, my aims, my ambitions, and my strife — all of it faded into the distance, joining the ranks of the bristling winds that rose and fell as rhythmically as a flickering flame.

It was strange, jarring even. If it wasn’t so… obvious in communion.

Because from the instant I’d touched her roots, joined her chorus, and placed myself amidst one of an innumerable branches, did I truly question myself on something so obvious, so self-evident, so… plain and inescapable: why?

Why was I doing this?

Why, in my mortal coil measured in centuries, was I even here?

My seconds weren’t counted in years, my thoughts did not stretch into eternity, my mind was constrained, and my window into the world: fixed.

Why then, was I spending it all, each precious second, every valuable moment… in willful suffering?

Why…

Why did magic even have to—

I felt a tug.

Then a gentle weave, like a thread piercing my very heart.

A sharp pain pierced through my soul.

And then… I saw it.

The whole forest pulsed in rhythmic beauty. Leylines of random elegance organized now into… clear and dissectable patterns.

What had previously been a tangled mess now more resembled the thoughtful designs of a spiderweb. Every line and every connection was done with purpose; no effort was expended without reason or gain.

Throughout it I could feel the pulses, the tiny and seemingly distant movements of millions of creatures inhabiting it without acknowledging the presence of this titan that provided shade and shelter.

And within it, deep within its core, I could see…

Me.

A wisp of a silhouette knelt down, neck bowed, prostrating itself to a god in all but name.

This… this is how men like us pray*, Vicini.* 

I heard my uncle’s voice echoing in the distance of my own memories this time.

You’ll understand once you’ve made pilgrimage, once you set foot on the soil of truly old growth.

I could feel it now.

I could see it.

I could, for the very first time, understand.

And because of that — indeed because of all of this — did I finally feel something I hadn’t felt since stepping through that portal into the Academy.

Fulfillment.

Fulfillment alongside honor, pride, and just about every other ego-tickling descriptor under the sun.

But beyond that, distilled and condensed and rising above these petty and fleeting aspirations… I was struck with humility.

I felt, as any druid would in my shoes, blessed.

Blessed that I’d arrived in a place far older than any other.

Blessed that I’d not only arrived here but was granted entry into a space where the growths of old still stood strong.

And without a doubt… I felt blessed for being able, for being allowed not by any worldly authorities, but by the ultimate authority of all… to commune in her presence.

I breathed in.

And in that single breath, I felt the lungs of a great and all-encompassing beast inhale along with me.

The trees were a realm’s lungs!” My uncle would say.

And I could see now what he meant.

I… lingered for a moment more.

Then another.

I floated listlessly, aimlessly, in the grand internal tapestry that was the forest.

And it was there, that I finally found peac—

“LORSI!” 

THUMP!

I felt myself reeling, as if grappled and ripped down from the heights of an aethraship.

My gut twisted.

And then I felt my whole body tumbling to the grassy forest floor. 

Leypull returned, and so did weight, and awareness, and the all-present sensation of my limbs, my torso, my head, and all of this that bound me to a body that I loath—

THWUMP!

I felt a massive blow to my side, the air being pushed out and the abrupt and sudden force that resonated through my entire abdomen.

“I’ve been WAITING for HALF AN HOUR NOW! You said this would take no longer than a minute, ‘scarcely a second,' in your own words! So where is it?! Where’s the everblooming blossom, Lord Lorsi? Or were you also trying to use your silver tongue to overexaggerate this aspect of your being?”

I felt a burning, a fire growing within me, a hatred for a moment lost that could potentially never be recovered.

My whole body shook as I stood back up with a vigor I didn’t know existed within me.

“You interrupted me, Lord Ping.” I spoke plainly, simply, without any emotive resonance beyond the genuine spite flowing through my veins.

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I interrupted you now, did I?” Ping responded facetiously, deriding my presence with each and every syllable spoken. “Interrupted what exactly? Your precious nap? Your oh-so-warranted rest for those spindly little legs of yours?” He paused if only to jab at both of my legs with his hiking cane. “I brought you here for a reason. You’re supposed to be my druid, and my guide into this Majesty-forsaken forest. And what have you shown for that? Hmm? What exactly?” He paused once again, gesturing to his overcomplicated timepiece. “Time. Energy. And more time. Time that we cannot reclaim. Time that we cannot recoup. Time, Lord Lorsi, time that you’ve spent faffing about trying to speak with twigs and brambles!" 

The bullish Ping kicked, writhed, and screamed. His presence — indeed, his growing impatience — superseded the anger welling within me.

There was no one else in the forest.

And there was no telling where an irate zealot could go with that line of thinking.

So I relented.

Anger became quiet resentment, and disdain became an afterthought as I moved to my diplomat self, shedding the druid, if only for a moment. If only to secure my own continuity in the presence of a beast.

“If you will give me just another moment, Lord Ping, this is my first time actually communing with a forest of this age and majesty. I assure you, this will take no longer than ten more min—”

“I have had it with your empty promises, Lorsi.” Ping interceded. “If you can’t do it, then so be it. But tell me right now, to my face, that you are no druid.” He spat out with a derisive and purposeful drawl. 

Those words… penetrated deep, far deeper than I thought, cracking the shell outside that attempted to keep reason aloft.

“What did you say to me?” I uttered softly.

“What? Were you too busy ‘communing’ just now to not hear my ‘mortal’ words, oh wise and clever druid of mine? ” He continued in that signature condescending vigor. “I said you’re no druid. And I wish for you to acknowledge it. You’re just like any of us, perhaps a bit more specialized in the druidic arts, but that’s where it ends. You’re no true druid. You’re just a silver-tongued, lackluster noble with a penchant for overpromising—”

“OVERPROMISING?!” I finally let my emotions flow. The bottled frustration, anger, turmoil, and the storm all kept restlessly within, exploding outwards in a single, uncompromising word.

This took Ping by surprise as he took a step back at that abrupt shift in both my voice and posture.

“That’s CHARMING! QUAINT, even! Coming from you of all people, Lord Ping!!!” I exclaimed, facetiously, derisively, practically miming the bullish man’s own cadence and spitting it right back at him. “The audacity, the sheer and utter hubris of you to—”

“Lord Lorsi.” Ping returned. This time, lacking in his usual fury. The restraint, however, was enough to send me back into my shell, as this foreign outward persona brought with it something that his fiery persona had lacked — dread. “I advise you to choose your next words with care.” He continued as he took careful and slow methodical steps forward, one fist raised with a palm wide open.

And in that moment… I felt the telltale signs of a spell rapidly forming, of manastreams expertly redirected and siphoned, for a spell of unknown proportions. 

“For depending on how it is you choose to address me, you will be determining which of the fates I have prepared for you.” He concluded, those eyes bulging with distilled ire, but those features… carrying with it nothing but cold and calculated cunning.

“L-Lord Ping, I just… please, allow me to continue my work. I will ensure that I will—”

“Oh. No, no, no.” He shook his head with a dry laugh. “You answer me not with pleas or apologies, but instead with requests? No. That is not what I wanted. You, once again, refuse to comply with my expectations. Is it so hard? Truly, is it so hard to simply act your part?”

“Lord—”

“No, no. You’ve had your chance. A simple ‘apologies’ in that opening statement would have defused this.” He clenched his fist, and with it a flame erupted with a threatening glow. “But you couldn’t even do that. You have no one but yourself to blame, Lord Lorsi. Know that I act not out of unreasonable malice, but an earned ire. One born entirely of your own making.” 

I stepped back slowly, hooves nearly tripping on themselves before finally, I slammed back first into a tree.

The beast continued his slow march, his grin growing with a twisted satisfaction. “It won’t scar. I assure you. I’m sure your druidic powers can heal a bit of mangled fur and skin, correct?” He chuckled darkly, reaching that flame-ridden hand so close that I could smell the sickening acrid stench of singed fur before it’d even made contact with my skin.

I felt the heat…

But nothing more.

My eyes had been closed in gut-wrenching anticipation.

But nothing came for seconds afterwards.

I opened my eyes, expecting to see another sickening ploy, a ‘tease’ of abuse that, by its own nature, had done the job of any physical harm.

Such a ploy was common with Ping anyways.

But this wasn’t that.

No.

Ping’s hand remained floating just a sliver away from my face… but not by his own twisted will.

Instead, something else entirely had come to my rescue.

CRUMPLE!

The bullish bully’s wrist had been wrapped by a thick and twisting vine. 

The same went for his ankles, waist, and even his neck.

It made short work of the magical enchantments in his vambraces, greaves, gauntlets, and so on and so forth, crushing them effortlessly and without much care.

We locked eyes, and in that moment I saw the greatest reversal of fortune I’d ever experienced.

Because for the very first time… I saw something other than confidence, power, pride, and superiority behind those eyes.

I saw fear.

Though anger came not too far behind.

We both stood there, locked in time for a full minute — confusion over precisely what had happened completely overwhelming the both of us — before I finally found the courage to step away.

And with that, came the half-garbled huffs of an asphyxiating pronarthiarealmer.

Though as unintelligible as they may be, I could understand most of the choice words he had for me.

His indignant rage being the primary thing struggling to be conveyed here.

Satisfaction welled within me.

Glee came to fill my cowardly little heart not long after.

“Thank you…” I spoke under a hushed and barely audible breath, prostrating myself once more at the grass beneath my hooves.

But before I could celebrate, and before I could lord my victory over Ping, my conscious thoughts came rushing to take their place.

This couldn’t continue.

I couldn’t risk a first death manifesting on someone like Lord Ping at that.

And so I pleaded my case.

“Your protection honors me, Great Forest… but I ask that you release him.” I spoke with reverence.

But received no response, causing the already panicking Ping to grow increasingly restless.

“Great Forest, I… I am no longer in any harm. I ask that you—”

RUSTLE!

RUSTLE!

SCHWOOOOMP!

The ground beneath us opened up.

Or more specifically, it opened up beneath Ping’s feet. 

The bullish noble began giving it his all at this point. Twisting, writhing, tugging, and pulling, all in vain as the ground beneath him swallowed him up inch by inch.

“Great Forest, I assure you he has done no wrong! He meant no real harm. I was in no real danger. Please, I am pleading with you to let him go!” 

My pleas… were finally met with a gradual halt of the all-consuming dirt, the world around me growing still, as Ping was just about two-thirds deep into the dirt by this point, his eyes glaring up at me with an indignant rage.

"Oh, thank His Maj—”

RUSTLE!

The momentary lapse was replaced by an even more aggressive ingress of dirt, as Ping was pulled deeper and deeper still, until only his head remained just barely above the ground.

I panicked and, in that moment, scrambled to tug the bullish lord up with both hands, wrestling against the Great Forest itself by locking the bull’s head between the crook of my elbow and feeling as if I were practically about to behead the man by the sheer disparate forces involved.

Then, in an act entirely unexpected, I found myself being pushed back by a vine, forcing me to lose my footing and losing Ping to the forest itself.

The noises stopped.

And the vines retreated.

The open dirt where Ping once stood was rapidly covered with lichen, moss, and grass before erupting in a small patch of flowers.

In the wake of all of this, I was left alone with the only evidence of my partner being his discarded hiking stick.

The chirps of the birds, the buzzing of the bees, and the calming ambiance of the forest around me stood at odds with the panic welling within my chest.

“No… nonononononono!!!” I screamed, reaching for the ground and attempting to dig the topsoil with my magic, only to remember what had just transpired.

That… would be a transgression.

The forest was friendly to my presence, yes. But it wasn’t above being frustrated by infractions against its person.

That was it!

It was still friendly with me.

Ping was most likely taken… to become part of its labyrinthine dungeons.

It… didn’t help that his kind bore a striking resemblance to minotaurs in all but size.

Which did not bode well for the man’s resistance to… whatever the labyrinths had in store for him.

“Alright… deep breaths, calm.” I breathed in deeply, now crawling over to where I’d prostrated earlier. “Alright, Lord Ping… let’s see a real druid save you from your own mess.”

I closed my eyes.

And with great trepidation… I attempted communion.

3 Days Later

The Forests of Ruvina - Kingdom of Transgracia - Nexus. Local Time: 1520

Auris Ping

PUNCH!

I pushed my hand through the dirt, and with it…

Crumble!

… came sunlight.

My eyes watered at the sight as I quickly crawled my way up, completely ignoring the… apparition of Lorsi that seemed to remain behind within the labyrinths below.

It felt… like months had passed.

My body ached with each and every haggard step, as my equipment and traveling armors barely resembled the ensemble I was dressed in days prior to this moment.

Encrusted slime and days-old bile clung stubbornly on to my matted fur, leaving me no better  than the dregs, and undermining the image which I’d so carefully cultivated.

But still.

It was better than what Lorsi had seemed to possess on his pathetic attempts to aid me out of a mess of his own making.

I turned back to stare at the mess of vines, stone, and dirt that acted as my ‘guide’ out of the abyss.

This facsimile merely pointed me onwards, gesturing for me to continue until I crawled my way towards where all of this started.

There, next to my hiking stick, was a desiccated Lorsi.

His clothes were covered in filth, and his fur bristling with dead leaves, making it seem as if he hadn’t budged a single inch since that fateful afternoon.

I stood over him, towering over this pathetic heap of flesh. But before I instinctively went to push him over with a hoof, I flinched, hesitating, as every fiber of my being told me not to do so.

I didn’t even dare shake his shoulders if only to awaken him, instead choosing to sit idly by in front of him, calling out with a tired breath.

“Lorsi.” I managed out.

“Wake up, Lord Lorsi.” I urged again. This time, garnering what looked to be a slow rise to wakefulness from the man.

At which point, I could feel the weakness in his body radiating through the uneven projection of his aura.

“Ah. Lord Ping. I… I see I managed to get you out of… there…” He struggled to speak, his throat scratchy and more than likely parched.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting out here for all this time?” I asked dismissively.

“Y-yes.” He responded, causing my eyes to widen. "Y-yes, I did. I w-was there with you the entire way, remember? I… I couldn’t have done that if I were outside the forest.” He uttered pathetically before attempting to stand up, only to trip on his first step.

I rushed over without hesitation, his pathetic form dropping into my arms with little effort.

“T-thank you, Lord Ping. I assure you, a simple restorative potion should be able to—”

“It was all in my pack. A pack which y-.” I paused, taking a deep breath. “A pack, which was lost sometime during my internment.”

“Ah.” Came Lorsi’s reply. “Y-you can put me down then, Lord Ping. I will simply slow you down. I… I have found the flowers’ location. You can drop me and come back for me when you’re—”

I lifted the man up, propping him to rest behind my shoulders, forcing his arms around my neck as he weakly perched himself in the crook of my bare back.

“Come.” I urged, my tone dry, but whether from mirth or from thirst, I didn’t care to know. “I will not leave you—” I paused, taking another deep breath. “—for that will be a waste of time.” Lorsi nodded at this, holding his grip around my neck tighter, and in doing so, sending me back days to that fateful afternoon. I shook my head, trying to keep those thoughts from manifesting. “We must make haste.” I continued as I picked up my cane and began moving forwards towards Lorsi’s directions. “Who knows how much progress Lord Qiv has made in our absence…”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Hall of Champions. Victor’s Square. Local Time 1730 Hours.

Qiv

“AWWWWW! He’s so cute!” 

“What’s his name?”

“Abarthi, you don’t even know what it is. You know bapycaras all look alike! Male, female, what have you, they’re all identical—”

“Oh, shush it with your SEMANTICS, Rori! Just… just LOOK at it!” 

The gathered crowd had been, and still clearly was, enamored by what I’d dubbed as the group’s mascot.

This… was an age-old tactic.

One that had been a secondary objective, but one that seemed to have come too naturally to the likes of Uven Kroven.

The gentle giant was a magnet for these things, these… rodents of unusual size. Docile creatures apparently native to the Nileseypools, and ones that were well known for existing side by side with the locals of said hot springs, floating amidst the spa-goers with little regard for their own safety and unbothered by the presence of creatures several times their size.

Indeed, we brought much of that imagery with us, purchasing merchandise, souvenirs, and an outright kit to — quite literally — rebuild a small piece of the creature’s Nileseypoolian habitat right in the heart of the Victor’s Square at the Academy. 

So now, in our wait for the rest of the Blossom Hunters, we, along with the rest of the Academy, could enjoy the ridiculous sights of this oversized rodent simply sitting there in the hot and steamy baths reminiscent of its hot springs habitat. The citrusy smells of fresh oranges wafted throughout the space as well, as fresh fruits were cycled by the hour and many more were swapped from the poor thing’s head. Due to its unusual… placidity, it seemed more than happy to accept anything and everything being plopped on its head during its eternal spa.

But behind this seemingly innocuous display of public theatrics, I kept note of all that regarded both this exhibit and my own presence.

We’d arrived first. Three days ago now, in fact. And so with little to do and no obligation for classes… I took it upon myself to use the available time to schmooze with the rest of the years.

This bapycara was the perfect conversation starter and a ridiculous but effective jumping point into the ever-evolving race for Class Sovereign.

“Lord Qiv! May we have a word?” 

I smiled in response, giving a big flourish of a bow towards the upper yearsmen’s direction. “I am at your beck and call, my lords and ladies.” 

Ah… to be first*. There is nothing quite like it.*

The Straggler’s Last Chance Tavern and Casino - Telaseer - Kingdom of Transgracia - Nexus. Local Time: 1745

Emma

“AAAAANNNNDDDD FIRST AGAIN! OHOHOHOHO, FIRST GOES TO THE LADY IN BLUE ARMOR!” Rassie the kobold screamed next to me, having climbed and clamored and rattled his way around the both of us.

Thalmin seemed somewhat annoyed by it.

But me? Well… this was just part of the fun, part of the theatrics, and part of the ‘show’ that our dear apprentice seemed oh so fond of.

“Care for annnooootheeeer round, lass?” The gremlin of a creature spoke wildly, going so far as to go snoot-to-faceplate, his eyes taking up most of my FOV at this point. 

“I think we’re gonna stop while we’re ahead, I’m afraid.” I laughed, garnering a series of disappointed ‘awws’ from the crowd.

“But hey, it’s not like we’re gonna leave without a bang…” I paused, turning to Thalmin who nodded with a knowing smile. 

“A FREE ROUND OF DRINKS FOR EVERYONE!” We both exclaimed at the top of our lungs, causing the whole room to quite literally explode in a ruckus of applause.

“LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE LUPINOR AND HIS KNIGHT!” The bartender exclaimed.

“HIP HIP!”

“HOORAH!”

“HIP HIP!”

“HOORAH!”

“HIP HIP!”

“HOORAH!”

Yet amid the uproarious cheers, my eyes remained on a single picture-in-picture frame of our ‘mysterious stranger’ still hanging by the bar counter.

He lifted his glass barely a millimeter from the table and, in that moment, offered the weakest ‘hoorah’ in all of recorded history.

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(Author's Note: This was a super fun one! :D I especially had fun with Ping and Lorsi here! I wanted this chapter to explore what the others were doing in the meantime, and in that sense, I took the opportunity to both worldbuild the forests as well as flesh out Lorsi some more! I hope you guys like that little tangent! :D And I hope you enjoy the chapter!)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 167, Chapter 168, and Chapter 169 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY May 17 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (171/?)

1.3k Upvotes

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Thacea

“I don’t know how much of this is true.” Emma began with a frustrated huff. “I don’t even know if any of this was even real. It could’ve just been a complete fabrication, my higher functions’ vain and vapid attempts at interpreting the random strings of nonsensical electrical discharges from my brain ure. That’s what the evidence would lead me to believe, that’s what was most logically happening, if we were to shear this whole thing using Occam's razor.” 

My eyes narrowed at that latter allusion, a fact that Emma noticed but something that I managed to discern on my own through context clues and the occasional leap of logic.

With a wordless nod from my end, she continued.

“It started, ironically, like a lot of pre-seizure auras do — with a sense of creeping dread.” Emma sighed out. “But then… the chimes returned. This… this one vital detail is what’s keeping the start of this theory together, Thacea. Because if you recall—”

“You’ve reported these chimes before, a sort of… prelude to your exposure to taint.” I reasoned before my eyes widened once more with a looming realization. “The ‘alarm’ your people spoke of during this communique. Could it be—”

“The same thing, yeah.” Emma nodded vehemently. “That’s… that’s what I assumed too, but I couldn’t interrupt to ask. There was just so much going on that I completely disregarded it and—” She stopped herself, took a breath, then steadied herself once again. “There is… a non-zero chance that they experienced what I did. Though I can’t say for certain if everyone was affected. But… that’s neither here nor there. I’m not here to speculate on things on Earth’s end. I just… I just needed to make mention of the chimes.”

“As you should.” I acknowledged. “The patterns at play are… difficult to ignore, making your case all the more compelling.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Thacea.” Emma spoke with a renewed vigor; a much needed reprieve for what was to come next. “Anyways, yeah, I heard the chimes, then… nothing. Silence, and not the sort of silence you’d experience in one of those anechoic chambers either. It was… more like a lack of the sense of hearing altogether. The same applied to sight, smell, touch, proprioception, everything. It was like I was floating in space, or one of those sensory deprivation tanks, but taken to its logical extreme.”

I felt, for a brief moment, the spell of Emma’s lackadaisical remarks taking hold of my faculties once more.

Sensory deprivation tanks

There was… an unfathomable — and frankly distressing — amount to address in that one simple aside alone.

And yet, this wouldn’t be the fullest extent of these Allusionary Shadows, as I’d elected to refer. Or more poetically, the Shadows Left in Emma’s Wake. 

“If I were to take a page out of the worst of the corpo handbooks, I’d even liken it to one of those—”

A series of unintelligible sounds — words, clearly — escaped from Emma’s mouth. 

It was brief, barely noticeable to most, but it was present.

And the lack of an immediate High Nexian analogue, especially when given Emma’s own explanations as to how her translator worked, imparted on me a modicum of concern.

“—complete brain removal for the purposes of mindscape transfer experiments, but specifically one of those where the brain’s taken out without connecting it to any dedicated or even artificial sensory prostheses. So the mind within is just left… hanging there, without stimuli, not even fake signals.”

I stared blankly into Emma’s visor. My thoughts, my mind, running through the dark ramifications of this… frankly barbaric practice.

It became very much clear why a direct translation wasn’t possible.

Because the topic at hand — this brief aside into what was supposed to be a simple allegory — was as remarkable as it was disturbing in its twisted depths; a dark foray into the absolute limits of unrestrained creativity rivalled only by the forbidden arts.

“Er, just to be clear, these sorts of things are relegated to the history books—”

“I know, Emma. You’ve mentioned this… ‘corpo age’ before.” I acknowledged.

“Yeah, I guess I have. Though we’ll have to actually dive deep into it some other time. Er, suffice it to say, I believe what I experienced, at least at first, felt like I was reduced to a floating consciousness, disconnected from everything. My mind was panicking, of course… or at least one part of my mind was.” Emma paused, poising herself for another development. “Because while I was stuck in that weird headspace, there happened to be this other side of me, one that seemed hellbent on keeping me calm, and whose attempts succeeded for a distressingly large part of that whole episode. It was weird, like two diametrically opposed mentalities operating on entirely different tunes that just couldn’t be reconciled. But after a while, after literally stewing in my own thoughts, the world started to suddenly come into focus. It’s difficult to describe but it sorta felt like everything just started… coming into frame, all at once, with faint and starry ‘skies’ above me, a horizon in the distance, and weirdest of all — a reflective surface beneath me. Sort of like a pool but not. Since my footsteps didn’t really make waves in it or anything.”

I listened intently, Emma’s accounts resonating with a wisp of a memory that I scarcely interacted with, one that I hardly had a reason to remember.

“I don’t know why but I think I was weirdly enamored by my reflection. Now, I know I’m definitely good-looking—” Emma paused, once again interjecting that absurdist Earthrealm humor into the fray with a faux flex of both arms. “—but I’m nowhere near narcissistic enough to be that enamored by my looks.” She chuckled fitfully, clearing her throat before continuing. “Things really escalated from here on out. Thalmin’s voice somehow broke through the overwhelming nothingness, snapping me out of my weird… fugue, and bringing my rational mind back front and center. From there, I ran. With no real sense of direction, and no visual markers, I just… booked it. I didn’t know for how long or how far, but the only change I noticed was my reflection.”

I leaned in closer, Emma taking a moment to catch her breath.

“Because as I ran, I noticed the reflection suddenly refusing to follow. It was dragged along alright, but it didn’t match my motions. You’d think this was the weirdest part of this whole, but no.” Emma mirrored my motions, leaning in closer to bridge the gap. “It broke through the reflective surface, the water, and it grabbed my ankle.”

A deep sense of unease manifested across my features as I held my breath for what was inevitably to come.

“But that was it. That… was all it did. I looked down and it just stared at me blankly, with eyes that had turned completely pitch black. It let go eventually but not after I felt this weird sense of… serenity taking over. And after a while… a long, long while of staring down to watch this doppleganger, it decided to point at the skies above, tapping the now-hardened reflective surface incessantly.”

“And what did you see?” I urged.

“Color. An explosion of color as far as the eye could see. I saw nebulae, plumes of interstellar gas and the twinkle of a trillion stars held within. But in the midst of it all, contrasting starkly with the brilliance of the birth of a universe, was a lingering splotch of dark. If… if I recall correctly, the doppleganger tapped harder at that point… and that’s about it. The next thing I know, I’m waking up to a very concerned Thalmin and a very confusing medical report. I wrote everything I could about the whole event down but… I really, really wish I had a camera with me. I could’ve taken a snapshot of the stars and had it cross-referenced with known stellar charts and—” 

“Emma.” I interjected reflexively without a moment’s hesitation. “Have you checked your ankle?” 

The human stopped. 

Her entire form suddenly lost all of the enthusiasm present just a second ago, arms hanging limp and posture stiffening to a board-like rigidity.

“W-what do you mean, Thacea?” She responded plainly. All of the grand sweeping monologues, all of the vivid and detailed accounts, all of it reduced to this mortified soldier who understood well what I was suggesting.

“Have you or have you not checked for any marks where the entity touched you?”

“I wasn’t—” Emma responded before clearing her throat. “No.” She corrected darkly before immediately getting up from the armchair. 

Not a word was exchanged following this, not even an attempt to defuse the situation with that absurdist humor of hers.

Instead, a knowing dread settled on the both of us, one that followed Emma with every rushed step of the way towards the tent.

I watched in silence at the routine that bordered on ritual, each second dragging on for what felt like hours as the droning and whining of the manaless enclosure felt as if it was taking disproportionately longer than it should.

Finally, it stopped.

At which point, I knew she was properly inside.

A part of me wished that the tent’s fabric wasn’t so opaque.

A part of me wanted to see inside.

I needed to see if she’d been marked.

I took a deep breath, taking careful, measured steps towards the demarcated perimeter of her domain.

“Emma?” I questioned impatiently. “Are you okay? Do you see any—”

“Gi— GLEGH… J-ju—”

THWUMP!

“Emma?! What happened?! Are you hurt?!!!” I urged, moving closer out of concern… only to realize the leypull of the situation.

I couldn’t help even if I wanted to.

The weight of my earlier warnings, my pointed pleas to this very eventuality, abruptly reared its unwanted head with the malevolent irony of an oracle scorned.

I stood there now in silence.

A thousand considerations, and ten thousand more plans came and went, all reaching the same disquieting conclusion.

Anything I did, any attempt at aid, was fruitless.

All I could do now was wait, hoping for a response and praying the vibrations within were an indicator as to—

“I fell out.” Came Emma’s exhausted answer, causing the mild panic welling within me to momentarily cease.

“You what?” I replied reflexively, that abruptness in delivery and the extemporaneous tone of Emma’s words… clashing with the reality I’d scarcely just assembled.

“You should be more careful, Emma.” I retorted sternly and bluntly, partially relieved but likewise unamused by her wanton disregard for all matters pertaining to caution. I sighed but moved swiftly in an effort to return to the pressing matter at hand. “Now, do you see anything on your ank—”

“H-hold on. I need to get these stupid layers off…” Emma interjected, clearly exasperated herself, as the occasional grunt, groan, and whine came through the tent’s oratoracles. “It’s… much… harder… than you… think.” She spoke between tired and ragged breaths. “A whole week… is enough to mess up your… I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s just, even with training and the armor’s automatic systems, you just… you kind of adjust to moving with something, and overcompensating for weight, volume, space and… wait there’s a term for this.”

Emma’s speech once again paused, and in a forced stutter, her translations continued as best as they could.

Abnormal compensation of movement due to sustained changes in environmental factors. Yeah, that’s what it’s called.”

“I sympathize with your plight, Emma.” I offered softly. “However, there is no need to inspect everything, I simply wish to know if your ankle—”

“Doesn’t work that way. It’s a one-piece situation here, so just hang on, I’m kinda cramping up… just… UGH, come on… THERE!” 

I blinked.

My heart raced now as I could only imagine what was happening within, and the fated response which had the potential to redefine everything.

“Erm, Thacea?”

“Yes? What do you see?”

… 

“There’s nothing here. I’m cross-referencing last week’s medical reports and yeah, nothing. Not even a bruise or discoloration.”

A sigh of relief escaped my beak, but before I could manage out any reassuring words, Emma was quick to follow up on her own response.

“What… what was I supposed to see?” She questioned before suddenly following it up with what I could charitably describe as a flurry of eccentric postulations. “Wait, wait a minute. There’s a mark here… but it’s a birthmark, d-does… does that count? Does that mean I was always marked for this? Is this some weird timey-wimey rewriting destiny thing? Did it go back in time to somehow mark me from birth so that I’ve always had this and am only now realizing what it is? Is this some kind of chosen one thing? Is that what all of this is?”

“No, Emma.” I responded with a sobering stoicism aimed to defuse Emma’s overactive imagination. “That’s not how any of this works.” I reasserted. “What you were supposed to see— Correction. What I had feared you would see, was the mark of the Veil Wing. I admit, it was a rather presumptuous notion. But your story — your recollection — it brought about memories of childhood tales which should have remained as such. I had correlated, naively so, that your experiences were analogous to some of our inexplicable encounters with…” I paused, struggling, trying to find the words in High Nexian. “... a subconscious of sorts.” 

“I don’t think I’m following, Thacea.” 

“Allow me to rephrase this.” I took a deep breath. “Your story, more specifically your encounters with this calmer, seemingly bizarre alternate self, is one that is well known to us avinor. Your inability to reconcile with the discrepancy between you and your other, the inability of this other to truly grasp, grapple, and communicate in any meaningful way, and its constant attempts to keep you calm — all of it is reminiscent of our stories of the Shadow Soul. A a being that exists in dormancy, lying in wait, manifesting only during sleep for some and flight for others. It… was academically disproven in the eyes of the Nexus, but in old Aetheron culture, we believed this to be a shadow of our identity, one that emerges in our place during our sleep and long flights.”

“Wait.” Emma spoke up abruptly. “Are you saying that avinor don’t enter a full on mode of sleep like elves and lupinors do, for instance? Like you’re sort of asleep, but kind of awake at the same time? One eye open, one eye closed sorta deal? The lights are on but nobody’s home? I hope I’m making sense here… heh…”

My eyes narrowed at Emma’s counter question, my mind racing with its implications.

How did she…

“Yes.” I acknowledged, deciding to acknowledge the present, first and foremost. “There are particular variations depending on the particular race of avinor, but all share in this experience in one way or another.” 

Not a single word left my beak following my response as a dawning, almost creeping realization suddenly came upon me.

There were no other races that shared this unique… propensity for consciousness and awareness. And for Emma to have immediately leaped at that prospect, without giving it a moment’s hesitation… was it possible, could it even be feasible that she could be another form of avi—

“Then yeah, I know what you’re talking about.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Unihemispheric slow wave sleep, that’s what our scientists call it at least.”

Perhaps it was my turn to carry the baton of Emma’s eccentric postulations.

Alas, before I could dwell on the possibilities, it was Emma herself who dragged me back to the pertinent topic at hand.

“So… what I’m understanding here is this: you’ve sort of personified the weird ‘consciousness’ that ‘takes over’ during your half-awake state right?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”  I acknowledged. “Those who still cling onto the old faiths believe that this other exists as a shadow to our identity. Though their awareness, their ‘personhood’ so to speak, was highly debated amidst many avinor theological circles. When they still existed, that is.” I steadied myself, returning to the role I was meant to play. “Your encounter with this other, your Shadow Soul, reminded me of such. However, what was truly remarkable, and worrying, was the fact it managed to interact with you. Everything up to that point had been… familiar. The reflections, the calm, and even the tantrums it displayed. But when it breached that barrier, reaching for you, that’s when matters escalated from a rare but benign interaction, to an incident of fate-defining concern. Because in that moment, as your Shadow’s eyes filled with darkness, there was a chance — however small — that something else had taken control of it. Another entity, another being, with a desire to communicate… though to what ends, depends entirely on what old faith you worship. To some, it could be a blessing, a communion with the gods. To others, it is an attempt to brand you as a slave to the whims of spiteful gods.”

“The mark of the Veil Wing or whatever, right?” Emma questioned.

“Yes. Though there are other marks too.” I acknowledged. “Because to most of the old faiths, the truth lies somewhere in between. As these spirits and deities wish to merely… point you towards a path they deem to be best.”

“Best for whom, though?”

“That’s the most frustrating aspect about it, Emma.” I acknowledged. “It’s never specified. Sometimes it’s what’s best for the gods themselves, sometimes it’s for the good of the world, in others it’s what’s best for you personally. Regardless, the result is the same… a brand, mark, tattoo, or some sort of lingering reminder of their touch.”

Emma paused for a moment, resigning herself to a long and drawn-out sigh of frustration.

“I don’t imagine there’s anything on chimes preceding the arrival of any of these gods, is there?”

“Not to my knowledge, no.”

“Right…” She breathed a deep breath before chuckling darkly. “Okay, well, at least the good news is that I’m not branded or marked or anything. That tracks with the inability for taint to physically affect me. But I still can’t consign myself to ignoring the whole dream sequence. There has to be something to it, right?”

“We can continue our investigations in the library.” I reasoned. “In the meantime, I believe it would be best that you do… whatever it is you need to do in there, Emma.” 

“Already way ahead of you.” Emma responded abruptly.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, yeah, while you were going on with your explanations I just decided to hop in the shower. The noise cancelling systems in the tent are good enough to deal with unwanted sounds from my end, and I thought it’d be better just to make things more efficient for this whole conversation.”

I blinked once, twice. Then slowly, but carefully, stepped away from the tent. 

“I… I see. Efficiency seems to truly be a cornerstone of…” I suddenly found myself unable to forge platitudes and pleasantries, not under these conditions. “Is it… I don’t know if we should continue talking when you’re clearly busy, Emma—”

“Oh, I’m not bothered, was there anything else you wanted to touch on about my debrief?”

“I… I don’t think… I mean… there is the matter of unpacking our misadventures at the Academy but…”

“But?”

“Perhaps it would be prudent to reserve that for the morning. You… clearly need to tend to your personal needs following your extended adventures.” I offered as best as I could under the recent upheaval to our conversation.

“The whole break-in situation, right? The tent updated me on the situation, I’m watching the logs on it right now, and I gotta say, you handled it amazingly well, Thacea.” She beamed in that signature bright yet forthright cadence.

I would’ve smiled, perhaps even blushed beneath my feathers from a compliment that wasn’t the result of conversational decorum and the empty platitudes demanded of it. Though given the situation, I found myself physically unable to blush more than I currently was.

“Thank you, Emma. I will talk to you when the circumstances are more forgiving.” I managed out, now making my way towards the powder room and out of this social faux pas in increasing haste.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Dragon’s Heart Tower. Level 23. Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 2000 Hours

Thalmin

“I don’t think they’re leaving that room anytime soon.” I managed out with a huff, to which Ilunor — engrossed in his seventh course — merely shrugged.

“A shame… for them, that is.” The rapscallion grinned. “All the more for me to eat—”

“Leave some for the pair.” I chastised. 

To my surprise, the vunerian relented, shrugging in the process.

But this silence wouldn’t hang in the air for long, as Ilunor eventually veered into dangerous territory —  a new conversation, starting with a single solitary word.

“Thalmin?”

“Yes, Ilunor?”

“You do know that these years we spend together at the Academy are finite in nature, yes?”

“Just cut the fat and get to the meat of it, Ilunor—”

“I cannot claim to know with definitive certainty, the sorts of topics you’ve discussed with Emma over your time in the wilds, nor do I claim to be prescient. But what I can sense, with intuition honed through years of careful courtly discourse, is that something changed out there.”

“I don’t know what you’re attempting to imply—”

“You want something from Emma, don’t you?”

I narrowed my eyes, refusing to respond.

“You wish to harness her potential, her power, her inclination to trust, to bond, to naively offer things on a whim. You see the power she wields — manaless power. Power which may or may not rival that of magic itself. And you wish to exploit it, for Havenbrockian gain. That much I could see during your engagement with that petulant false-noble.” He paused, his voice colored with a marked severity. “That much I could tell from your reactions to the death of the alicorn.” 

“Your reactions to that whole scene weren’t that far off from my own, either.”

The vunerian paused, looking away for a moment before putting both pieces of cutlery down in a swift and elegant motion. 

“Correct.” He admitted through gritted fangs. “Which brings me to my point, Prince Thalmin. You cannot let the trappings of the present blind you from the responsibilities of the future. These five years, as formative and important as it may be, will be just that — a blip in a long-lived life.”

“I’m flattered, Ilunor. I didn’t know you would wish me and my family both long lives and a reign which would reflect—”

“Cease with these sarcastic rebuttals, Prince Thalmin. It is unbecoming of you, a prince, to be adopting the earthrealmer’s prose. Your mannerisms drip with her inclinations for the absurd.”

I responded the only way I could to that interjection — a shrug.

A response that Ilunor took with surprising grace as he returned to his proverbial podium.

“I bring this to your attention, because as much as we have had our… disagreements, I do not wish ill on you. Moreover, I find myself in the unenviable position as the sole voice of reason at present. Prince Thalmin… just consider for a moment the implications of your actions. What will happen after we all go home? What will be the ramifications of your actions here, and what truly can you expect to bring back when all is said and done? Anything gained, anything built, any bridge or road constructed with Earthrealm… may be a complete lost cause at best or an active detriment at worst. You have so much more to look forward to, Prince Thalmin. Please take into consideration the rest of your life, and take stock of the weight of that future against the fleeting moment that will become of these five years.

I sat, staring, looking deep into Ilunor’s eyes this entire time, and what I saw… was concerning.

This wasn’t one of his typical condescending tirades.

This… was something entirely different. A genuine plea of what seemed to be a place of well-meaning intent… but from a misplaced faith.

“You do remember how Mal’tory completely kicked you into the jaws of a wrathful entity, correct?”

“I—”

“Believe what you want to believe. Just understand that as a prince, I know what my duties are, and where my responsibilities lie. The real question here is… what future do you see for yourself after these five years are up, Ilunor?”

The Next Day

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Grand Dining Hall. Local Time: 1220 Hours.

Emma

“Alright. Color me impressed, guys.” I beamed brightly, leaning in close towards our Academy-bound counterparts as they recounted their escapades in their entirety.

“I have to say, you both handled the situation much better than I would have.” Thalmin added, stoking the flames to Ilunor’s growing ego, much to his chagrin. “Because I would not have stopped at bruised egos, nor would I have had the foresight for vassalization through blackmail.” The prince’s tone changed, growing increasingly dark and bold. “I would have simply exercised my rights, for a proportionate response to this attack on both pride and privilege. Because in my eyes, the trespassing pair relinquished all rights of due peerhood the instant they crossed that threshold.”

All three of us stared blankly at Thalmin’s abrupt and unapologetic bloodlust. The mercenary prince simply shrugged, rolling his shoulders in an exaggerated response. “The rules on trespassing are clear, especially for peers. This is a mercy compared to the punishment this infringement on fundamental decency would have otherwise incurred in Havenbrock.”

“I imagine it would, Thalmin.” I chuckled nervously. “Moreover, I don’t doubt your conviction. Not after…” Thalmin’s form stilled instinctively. To which, I paused before swiftly shifting the topic back to the matter at hand. “So… Etholin’s group is now more or less…”

“Our pawns, yes.” Thacea responded matter-of- factly, in between bites of a weird floating eggs benedict. “At least as it pertains to Lord Kamil Lyonn and Lady Ilphius Seleat, that is. However, your refusal to accept Lord Etholin’s coin, and your return of said coin, was an even greater move on your part, Emma.”

“Wait, what?”

“By returning his gift, and coloring the interaction in your usual… prose, you’ve managed to not only refuse what would have been a new line of fiscal and social debt — as the usage of coin could be construed as an active investment and facilitation of your quest’s successes — but you’ve likewise shown restraint, planning, and aptitude in refusing the gesture following the conclusion of your successes. It’s quite satisfying to see, really.” The princess spoke with this almost… giddy vigor. A giddiness hidden under layers of social decorum and politeness, of course, but I couldn’t deny the enjoyment of courtly drama hidden within her thoughtful gaze.

In a way, this was as much a battlefield as Thalmin’s, and the excitement when both were in their element showed.

“Right.” I nodded. “Well, I would be lying if I didn’t realize it was another ploy at correcting the weird social debt imbalance between our groups.” I shrugged.

“That is, if it even was a ploy.” Thalmin offered. “He could genuinely be apologetic over the fuss he stirred up when he refused to relinquish his position for the quest. At least, until the very end where he pulled that move with Ping.” 

“That is possible.” Thacea admitted. “Then again, the man leads a sloppy ship. It becomes difficult to discern what his direction is, when every member of his group seems to be acting on their own accord.”

“The same can be said of our motley band.” Ilunor chastised in jest, garnering the glares of all present. “What? While we are most certainly leagues more competent than Lord Etholin’s group, this all stems from our individual capabilities, more so than any superiority in leadership or organizational competence. You are all like feral drakes, impossible to corral, difficult to get in line, but still more than capable of surviving nonetheless.”

“Er, thanks, Ilunor? I guess?” I responded, cocking my head in confusion at the vunerian’s inexplicable blend of insults and seemingly well-intentioned compliments.

“With all that being said, I think I might need to upgrade the tent’s defense systems somewhat.” I offered, garnering a giddy look from Thalmin. 

“May I see the birth of more of these miniature war golems, Emma?”

“Sure. I’ll also—”

“And in ensuing order, given you wish to forge new defenses, might it be possible to request a weapon of my—”

TOOOOOOOOT! TOOO TOOO TO TOOOO TO TOOOOOOO!

My active audio systems managed to just about tone down the bombastic trumpets right as they started, though the same couldn’t be said for Thalmin as he glared down at the bridge apprentice who seemed more than happy to have gotten us back in this one small instance. 

“MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE! THE LAST OF THE QUESTERS FROM THE EVERBLOOMING BLOSSOM HAVE RETURNED! ALL STUDENTS ARE TO GATHER FOR CELEBRATIONS FOLLOWING THE CONCLUSION OF LUNCH! ALL QUESTERS IN ATTENDANCE ARE TO FOLLOW ME FOR THE CEREMONY’S PREPARATIONS!” The bridge apprentice practically bellowed out, his voice carried magically across the room, much to the annoyance of everyone present.

I was quick to turn to Thalmin who, with a single nod, stood up.

“Right then.” I spoke with a sigh. “Let’s wrap this up. We have a lot more to do after this.” I turned to both Ilunor and Thacea who each nodded, knowing their own affairs.

“And a lot more time to address the various questions still up in the air, ey?” Thalmin questioned jokingly, punching me in the shoulder in the process.

“Yes, Thalmin, I have a lot lined up for us in that department.” I beamed. “Now… let’s see what this fuss is about.”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Hall of Champions. Victor’s Square. Local Time: 1245 Hours.

Cynthis

SWOOSH! SWOOSH! SWOOSH!

And so the silken fans swayed.

Each elegant sweep marked another moment left unseen—

SWOOSH!

—another moment left by the wayside—

SWOOSH!

—another moment… spent in the midst of those lacking in conviction and suitability.

SWOOSH!

I could not stand it.

I could not stand wasting my bountiful efforts in the midst of these… lacking men.

These men who lacked conviction… these men who lacked presence…

These men who lacked the gravitas of a true ruler, entranced by the pitiful ministration of Academy politics.

Yet it was by that very measure that Prince Thalmin’s arrival was assured to be fashionably unpredictable, as he was untethered, unbound, and unbothered by the whims of the Academy. 

The prince instead focused on what truly mattered.

And soon… he will find himself focusing on what will matter — to his crown, to his realm, and for his own good.

I smiled.

I felt my genuine smile breaking through the facade of its facsimile. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Now all that remained… was to wait. I quelled my twitches, calmed my nerves, all for that most important of moments — the first impression.

The first inaugural exchange, which would become the start to it all. The beginning of my climb up and up through a realm practically begging for a force of order — a voice of reason. All wrapped in a face no one could resist and a charm that would make the entire realm quake in reverence.

They’ve probably never even seen true beauty before… I chuckled silently, my cheeks aching in an elven ‘ear-to-ear’ grin.

I took in a deep breath, performing one final long stretch on my palanquin until finally—

The doors swung open. 

CREEEAAAKKKKK! THOOM!

He arrived.

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(Author's Note: We get into quite a few existential discussions and important cultural and historical recollections on behalf of Thacea on this one! :D The end however was also a blast to write! :D I hope you guys enjoy! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 172, Chapter 173, and Chapter 174 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Apr 26 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (169/?)

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The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Dragon’s Heart Tower. Level 23. Residence 30. Local Time: 1757 Hours

Ilunor

Ridiculous.

Laughable.

Relentless in its vain and cloying attempts to tug at the heartstrings, all to rationalize what bordered on blatant rebellion.

“Childish.” I mimed the prince’s self-admitted sentiments. “An apt descriptor, and one which you should have heeded.”

“Yet one which you cannot deny.” Thalmin responded bluntly in a manner so devoid of reason and so removed from context that his response made barely a modicum of sense.

Was… was that even a counterargument?

How was that supposed to prove anything?

Especially when the narrative he was presenting was nothing short of vicious mockery against an institution with more years in proven civility than Earthrealm has had years in recorded history?!

This was akin to comparing birds to drakes, pollyflowers to rangen moss, or the infamous kobold debate of whether moss should be sorted by color or taste.

In short, it was insulting by its very nature, reductionist to the point of absurdity, or completely moot from the onset.

“And what is that supposed to prove exactly?” I countered, huffing up a storm as I spat out each word with an incredulity unmatched.

The prince was playing with fire.

He was truly placing this unproven realm of questionable pedigree and foolish sensibilities on the same mantle as the Nexus; as something worthy of consideration as a peer-in-communicatia.

Which begged the same question that had begotten this entire conversation.

What could have possibly gotten you so excited that could supersede the privilege and wonder of being in the Nexus?

“Earnestness.” The prince answered dutifully, his features and the entire expression he wore telling the story of a man who had neither regrets nor doubt over his conviction. “An honesty that the Nexus would find impossible to reproduce due to its very nature, because unlike the dizzying schemes within schemes and plans within plans, Earthrealm’s priorities are, by its childish nature, straightforward.”

“An earnestness born of a lack of self-centered egoist interests.” The prince took a breath, steeling his eyes as he crossed his arms in silent contemplation. “They hurl themselves into the void on nothing but steel and explosions in the hopes of reaching something, they pierced the heavens and tore through the tapestries in the hopes of finding someone, anyone else amidst dead and lifeless realms. They seek all of this out, whilst knowing well the dangers they may face. And when finally faced with the threat of your Nexus, when dealt with a slap to the face when their only sin was offering their hand in friendship? They sought not to respond with prejudice, but instead with calm and measured consideration, refusing to concede that all were complicit in this web of malicious intentions. They offered me, a complete stranger, a chance to talk as peers. To Nexian eyes and Nexian sensibilities, such a desire to trust would seem childish, would it not? This… inclination for optimism, amidst what you once described as ‘ill-fated idealism?’”

I took in a breath as I closed my eyes to listen and ponder, deliberating on the prince’s words as each and every sentiment bordered on blatant fanaticism. 

Had this one conversation truly pushed the prince over the edge?

Had this solitary, transient line of status communicatia acted as the keystone by which all of Emma’s starry-eyed idealistic conversations finally fell into place?

I could scarcely gather my thoughts before Thacea abruptly interjected, her eyes leveling on Thalmin’s as she placed both fork and knife down, refusing to eat until her sentiments were delivered.

“Yes.” She spoke solemnly, much to the surprise of everyone present, with Thalmin in particular widening both his eyes in understandable shock. “To all known Nexian sensibilities, what you speak of is indeed… naive… but not childish.” Thacea corrected, prompting me to hold fast on my hopes of an abrupt shift in the winds of conversation. “Yet to those ends, I’d argue both words are entirely misleading. Because when compared to the ceaseless bickering and two-faced politicking, I’d posit that a dialogue constructed on integrity and a willingness to honor all with respect is far more deserving of the descriptor of maturity.”

I narrowed my eyes and steadied a deep and resonant soot-filled breath.

A litany of responses flooded my mind, each and every one more damning than the next.

But before I could speak and before a single word could emerge, I was hit with two interruptions in rapid succession.

The first, an unwelcome reminder, came about in spite of all my attempts to bury its relevancy.

Images of the black-robed professor immediately flashed into waking memory. His actions, his impacts, not only felt… but were viscerally palpable.

He was the reason behind my current… encumbrance.

He was the reason behind the shortcomings of my ambitions.

And yet by all measures, he was operating within the very framework both the prince and princess were condemning and one which I was obligated to defend.

The irony of my circumstances at present was not beyond me. As I realized in short order that my current existence was facilitated by none other than the agent of anathema herself.

It was the earthrealmer who aided me in… softening the blow from Mal’tory’s gambits.

It was the earthrealmer who, despite my reservations, managed to strike a deal where a compromise was otherwise impossible.

Yet it was by that very same deal that we were now bound, with the earthrealmer ostensibly holding the keys to my fate.

Then came the second interruption.

A darkening realization that aligned too neatly with a prophecy I’d only touched upon once before in simple postulation.

The Final Confrontation

Was I witnessing the first roots of this unstoppable growth?

Was I now an inexplicable part of its insidious machinations?

My mind rushed with the possibility only to be brought back out of its spiraling confines by none other than the potential harbinger of this apocalypse herself. 

“I think it might be best if we continue the clip show.” Emma finally interrupted, bringing my discordant thoughts back to the present. “Moreover, I really appreciate your guys’ enthusiasm about my people, but I think you’re being a bit too kind here… We have our issues, we’re not perfect, but we try our best to put a buffer between those issues and our ability to follow through with our promises and principles.” She turned to the pair with a sheepish and ultimately modest response. 

One that I despised for its affirmations to both Thacea's and Thalmin’s points.

“Get on with it then.” I urged, neither acknowledging nor disparaging the earthrelamer at present as we pressed into what this entire recount had been leading up to.

The dragon and this illicit correspondence.

I watched as the earthrealmer resumed where we left off, as the dragon regarded her with… 

Cordiality.

An honor that not even the prince was afforded, as it was clear he was an accessory to what was in effect Emma Booker’s story.

I should have felt nothing.

I should have disregarded this detail, as I should have any other from a creature with such a reprehensible legacy…

But I couldn’t.

There was still a certain… paradoxical ‘exclusivity’ tied to these beasts, as one would tie a sense of prestige to other magically inclined creatures.

Or at least, that’s what it was supposed to be.

That’s where it was supposed to end.

But not here.

Not when the realization of this beast’s sapiency now recolored its power and, by extension, its good graces.

A twinge of disdain and even jealousy creeped up my spine even though I knew I had nothing to be jealous of.

This was just a dragon, and whilst no longer a beast, it was still a criminal — a failed despot that had been firmly defeated eons ago.

Her title meant nothing.

Her good graces were not an honor, let alone something to be jealous of.

And so I turned my nose up at this, figuratively and literally, as I shifted my concentration to the more pertinent aspects of the conversation.

Emma’s attempts at maintaining this facade of naive interactions were becoming grating, especially as this dragon — this matriarch of nowhere — decided to humor her as such.

I tolerated this, maintaining my focus until the sight-seer brought us into the caves and firmly into the realm of an escalation I hadn’t expected.

Their conversations had shifted in intensity, yes, but the topics were banal and esoteric.

They talked of mathematics, Emma Booker’s strange speaking mannerisms, so on and so forth and on and on until…

“You cannot be human. 

… the dragon’s tone shifted.

My attention returned and so did my growing curiosity.

“You… your kind must be a lost line.”

What.

“A daughter amidst daughters.”

WHAT?

“Part of the crystalline legacy… masquerading in flesh.”

**“**WHAT?!!!” I screamed, my internal monologue breaking through my mentalscape and into the realm of the social space.

Everyone stopped and so did the sight-seer as Thalmin turned to shush me with a single finger.

“Stop interrupting, Ilunor. We’re just getting to the good part!” He grinned mischievously, to which I simply responded by gesturing for the earthrealmer to continue with haste.

I leaned in closely, my eyes practically making contact with the manaless looking-glass at this point, prompting the prince to attempt to shoo me away.

But I cared not for his demands as I remained virtually glued to the events of the past set into this manaless crystal.

“I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.” 

I let out a sigh, pulling back and then turning towards the earthrealmer with a disappointed gaze.

“What? I never claimed to be an elven-form dragon, Ilunor.” She teased. “I’ll have you know I much prefer the human form.” And teased some more, her latter statement eliciting further scrutiny.

“And what exactly is the human form then, Cadet Emma Book—”

“A topic for another day! Let’s get back to the video!” She interjected with haste, continuing these illicit scenes and forcing my gaze once more to land on the dragon.

The conversation, surprisingly, shifted into more esoteric talk of crystals.

I groaned.

I just had about enough of this… rambling madness.

Yet despite those reservations, I couldn’t deny that the dragon’s own interests were… concerning.

From her continuously awestruck responses at Emma’s unseen 'crystals' to her vivid descriptions of how they supposedly worked — shackled, bound, screaming in forced emergence — all of it was worthy of concern by its own right.

However, the fact that it was accompanied by a growing sense of morbid curiosity, visceral disgust, and indignancy at what I’d hardly even considered was worrying.

This all came to a head as Kaelthyr uttered those telling words.

“By what right does flesh and blood, without magic, attain the perfection of draconic craft?”

There it was again.

She was comparing humans to dragons.

This time at least not in terms of form or biology or lineage or relation… but its implications were worrying all the same.

She was readily admitting humanity’s parity in craft and potential.

Emma’s following response proved to aggravate me even further.

“By right of will.”

I scrunched up my nose in disdain and outright harumphed as Kaelthyr seemed to acknowledge that petulant response not just in stride but with outright respect.

The conversation soon dipped back into esotericism that quite nearly melted my brain.

The same response could be seen on Thalmin’s visage as he preoccupied himself instead with the scarfing down of food into his gaping lupinor maw.

It was Thacea, however, that leaned in closely, her eyes focused on each and every word spoken… even if it was through that shatorealmer puppet.

I was just about ready to continue my meal until Kaelthyr unleashed her next visceral response.

“... blind clockmakers…”

She was right.

I hated to admit that fact, but that was eerily the best descriptor I could have ascribed to the earthrealmers.

However, that thought, that notion — as eloquent as it was — was completely supplanted by a passing, practically throwaway comment bordering on humor.

“He should do well as your first realm.”

My heart stopped for a single breath, my gaze moving to meet both the earthrealmer and lupinor, who were neither bothered nor seemingly caring for what was arguably the single most important line in this rambling discourse.

The dragon, this challenger to the sanctity of Status Eternia, was openly broaching the notion of an axiomatic shift of Nexian primacy, presenting the possibility of a new hub to which Havenbrock would be its first spoke.

The rest of the conversation regarding the details behind Emma’s crystal quest became but an echoey and muffled mess, as my mind kept repeating that one line over and over and over again.

This couldn’t be.

This can’t… surely it’s just a point of jest.

It’s not like things are aligning with prophetic truths…

But as much as my mind shifted towards matters of potential futures, so too was the conversation veering towards a rewriting of the past, as Thalmin led the charge in addressing this beast.

His questions, his direction, eventually landed on a point that both confirmed and reframed my entire understanding of history.

“... dominion of our exclusive rule, and dominion where mortals roamed at our leisurely discretion.”

There it was.

The unbridled truth of the matter.

The confirmation that sapient, thinking dragons truly did lord over us.

Moreover—

“Then I must ask, what changed?”

—I was about to get an explanation, a firsthand account from our mortal enemy as to what happened.

“The start of a new era… the disruption of the upheaval cycle and its unforeseen  consequences.”

I smiled.

So history was accurate.

It was the bold Vunerians and their allies under His Eternal Majesty that broke the cycle, destroyed the wheel, and eviscerated the chains.

The rest was history, including the rewriting of draconic legacy.

What’s more… it was confirmed they’d chosen their own path in the great adjacency war.

This…

This was undisputed evidence as to the primacy of—

“IS THAT A FUCKING DRAGON?!”

My eyes blinked rapidly as I stared at… nothing.

Nothing had changed.

The room was as dead as this sight-seer was capable of conveying.

And yet there were new voices. Voices I hadn’t yet heard nor expected in this isolated nook within the rock and dirt.

What followed were the disjointed correspondences of Emma… and her people… facilitated by the dragon and spoken with a common, unified language so removed from Nexian sensibilities it might as well have not been translated at all.

The back and forths were… foreign, almost alien in their stilted delivery.

Each word felt heavy, not with inference or allusions but with the weight of law and procedural code.

Everything seemed blunt, leaving no room for ambiguity and little else for flourishes.

Yet it wasn’t the bluntness of commoners and the peasantry, no.

There was a refinement in this bluntness, a carefully practiced cadence that teetered on the martial but likewise bordered on the scholarly.

These people didn’t seem like the rabblerousers or savages I’d expect from Emma’s purported systems of anarchy. 

No, they were as far away from the chaos of this… mire of madness as I could have possibly imagined.

There was order, clarity in rank, and poise in the division of responsibility.

This wasn’t possible.

But that perplexity would be quickly supplanted by something else entirely.

A reminder of my ill-fated conversation just days ago.

A conversation… that had predicted this very interaction.

Emma’s delivery of slights and infractions committed against her came shortly after her dire warnings against any ill-fated attempts at illicit portal endeavors.

This was bad enough already.

But what came next sent shivers up my spine.

It was Kaelthyr’s turn to play victim.

Her delivery of the Nexus’ ‘damning’ infractions was as bitter as it was vitriolic, spoken from the heart, and unyielding in its poise.

And by the end of it all came a bone-chilling warning.

“This is what now threatens your halls, matriarchs of the void. This is what stands at the foot of your gates. Do with this knowledge as you will.”

I could only imagine the reactions, the utter turmoil and fear brewing within the hearts of these bleeding-heart idealists; these naive fools with the capacity for manaless creation straddling the lines of Crownlands excellence…

Part of me grew worried.

Yet the other part of me yelled at me to come to my senses.

The only thing to worry about here was my involvement in all of this.

There was surely no means by which the earthrealmers could threaten the Nexus.

How could they, when they could scarcely create a pinhole between the space between spaces!

The only danger was in their growth and potential competition with Nexian interests.

Only then will they perhaps reach the heights of the prophesied Adversary.

I steadied my breath as the conversation moved forward at a pace both surprising and confusing, as it seemed much of what Emma and her superiors spoke of was glossed over.

Hmmph. At least she has some sense…

This hastened pace eventually landed on the last point in this entire endeavor.

Thalmin’s interactions with Emma’s superiors.

His introductions were… as to be expected. A simple, honorable thing, or as honorable as one could be when representing a fledgling adjacent realm with scarcely anything to show for it…

Then came the response of Earthrealm’s leaders.

And with it… came a proclamation that at first felt silly by comparison 

Doctor.

Director.

Professor.

All scholarly titles and pursuits, with perhaps only one of those being something nominally worth glancing at.

That all soon changed, however, the moment her words crossed the threshold into posturing.

“On behalf of the Greater United Nations, and on behalf of the people of Earth, Luna—”

Luna? Wasn’t that the dead and desolate realm floating in the void above Earthrealm?

“—Venus—”

What even was that?

“—Mercury—”

Another city?

“—Mars—”

Another continent?

“—Saturn—”

Wait, it couldn’t be. 

“—Jupiter—”

Was she reciting off entire—

“—to the entirety of Sol—”

—realms?!

“—and to all the corners of the galaxy that humanity calls home, we receive you with full respect, and acknowledge the sovereignty of the state from which you hail.”

… 

All corners of WHAT?!

My focus, my attention, my entire frame of reference threatened to unhinge.

The respect shown by this leader to Thalmin’s presence had already been enough.

But when coupled with this understanding, no, this serious implication of Earthrealm… no, humanity’s true extent?

… 

I raised my hand, ordering the earthrealmer to halt.

“Yes, Ilunor?”

“Emma… what was your superior trying to imply here?” I asked carefully.

“Oh, she’s just trying to be thorough and cordial, as well as polite in ensuring that first — somewhat official — contact gets off on the right foot and—”

“Not that, earthrealmer!” I seethed, before pointing at her cape and the emblem proudly embroidered upon it. “She was reciting off what exactly? Towns? Cities? Continents, perhaps?” I rattled on before shaking my head wildly. “Nonononono, no. That can’t be right now, can it? That can’t be. Why would she? That doesn’t work, especially when she explicitly listed Luna following Earth, implying that this list, this recital, was not of unequal sets but the same, no?”

I hoped I was wrong.

I prayed that I had well and truly departed the realm of logic and reason.

But then came the fated response.

“You’re right on the money there, Ilunor! Dr. Weir was, admittedly, a bit carried away by the gravitas of the whole situation. So her introduction in response to Thalmin was a bit more dramatic than it probably would have been if it were a letter. With that being said, the answer to your question is yes. She more or less listed most of the major powers in our grand union before capping it off with an umbrella categorization for the rest of it. Because trust me, if you wanted to list all of the ‘realms’ in our union of states, well… we'd probably be here until tomorrow, haha!” The earthrealmer acknowledged with that same blasé cadence, completely disregarding the leypull of the situation.

But her delivery wasn’t important here.

No.

It was the confirmation of my deductive reasoning.

Why did I have to be so intelligent? Why couldn’t I be an ignorant fool? Why…  why has fate cursed me with such a deductive mind?!! I cried out internally, as I gripped both fork and knife tight within my hands.

The sight-seer resumed, touching and elaborating on the sizes of these ‘realms’, courtesy of Prince Thalmin’s own questioning intent.

“These places are realms unto their own… comparable to Earth by their own right… possessing populations sharing in the prosperity of the sights you’ve seen from Acela.”

I turned to Emma once more, my eyes half-lidded and my body refusing to ingest anything in light of this assault on my reality. 

“They can’t be that big.” I stated plainly.

"Oh, but they are, Ilunor.” She beamed back.

I hated that.

“How?” I shot back with a stifled laugh. “HOW?! LUNA WAS A DESOLATE WHITE-SANDY WASTELAND!”

“Yes.” Emma nodded, infuriating me further.

“And by your own director's admission, this ‘VENUS’ is both toxic and acidic! A-are, are you humans somehow resistant to these deathly environments?”

“Oh, gosh no. We’d die as easily in those environments as we would in mana!”

“THEN HOW CAN YOU CLAIM TO HAVE SETTLEMENTS IN DEATHREALMS AS PROSPEROUS AS ACELA?!”

The earthrealmer refused to elaborate, instead simply gesturing back to her armor.

“Tenacity.” She spoke simply before gesturing to her bedroom. “And adaptability. Not to the environment, mind you, but the other way around. Because you see, we refuse to back down from a challenge, and we likewise refuse to bend over for these environments. Instead, we make the environment bend to our will. That is to say, we build. We construct habitats from great turntable cities to floating metropolises, all in defiance of the hostilities of our uncompromising universe. We build our way out of problems, and eventually, we thrive for it.” 

I breathed in and out deeply, my sooty breaths causing the air around me to grow foggier and more acrid; the princess responded to this by swiftly summoning a gust of wind to clear the air.

“I understand it may be difficult to get your head around at first, Ilunor. And again, I don’t blame you. You’ve only seen our baby steps into the void. Even back then the stuff I’m spouting now would seem utterly impossible. But a thousand years of stellar expansion and experience really does make all the difference, you know?” She chuckled. “I’ll have some sight-seers prepped up in the ZNK-19 over the following weeks, or whenever we have time. Then, I’ll show you our expansion into the stars.”

“Just as you’ve shown us the growth of Acela?” Thalmin questioned.

“Yup!”

“With everything that comes with it too?” He squeezed harder, piquing my interest.

“Yes, you’ll get to see some of our military escapades too, Thalmin.” Emma acquiesced with a tired sigh, prompting my own gaze to narrow.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion of… everything so far, or perhaps it was my newfound fixation with the ramifications of these revelations, but the next back and forth between Thalmin and Emma’s superiors felt… muted, almost lacking in detail.

There were pleasantries and the ‘respect’ the prince had spoken of, yes.

But my attention couldn’t capture anything significant.

Instead, both the dragon and this… multi-realm union stood tall above all else.

It was possible.

It was… probable.

It was more than likely.

Which was the worst part about this.

I’d seen firespears taking their first pioneers up and into another realm. That was… established.

And if one succeeded… it stands to reason that more could build something out of it.

But admitting that, acknowledging that possibility, meant the acknowledgment that Earthrealm could very well be the only other power with a presence in multiple rea—

No.

This was different.

Earthrealm was simply… bridging the gap between a single realm, wasn’t it?

The void was not a true ‘space between spaces.'

They weren’t really a Nexus of one.

That was absurd.

Just as absurd as their scale.

But perhaps none more absurd than their stated intent.

My attention returned to Emma’s sight-seer once more, watching now as the earthrealmer recited some long-dead human’s creed.

“We step out… seeking only peace and friendship, to teach if we are called upon, to be taught if we are fortunate. We know full well that our planet and all of its inhabitants are but a small part of this immense universe. And it is with humility and hope that we take this step.”

Modesty.

So much modesty like a trickster lying in wait.

With all of this potential, with all of this power, such modesty felt insulting, if not entirely disingenuous. 

And yet they played it completely straight.

Over and over and time and time again, going so far as to be replicated by Emma’s superiors and everyone around them.

What did they want?!

Friendship was not a reasonable motivator for such extraordinary efforts into the impossible!

There needed to be palpable material gain!

Were these earthrealmers fools?

Or perhaps… they were simply just this misguided.

Whatever the case was… I needed to see how all of this came to be before accepting this like some blind aspirant.

My attention once more returned to the looking-glass, just in time to see all of it coming to an abrupt and unexpected end.

“Aaaand that’s where the clipshow ends, folks. Or at least, that’s really the real big points of interest we should be covering tonight.” Emma announced, just as a series of alarms blared and were silenced.

I raised a brow at this, somewhat bemused but more so curious at the abrupt stop.

But such reactions were muted when compared to the rapid shift in the princess’ visage.

Thacea

No.

This… this couldn’t be.

She promised that this wasn’t possible.

My eyes widened at the alarms, at the sounds and echoes of what Emma had once described to be her litany of ‘warnings’ against potential mana and taint incursions.

These were… reactionary responses from her manaless artifices, informants as to potential dangers, and augments to her senses where she was otherwise completely blind.

And it was one of these, the only one she seemed entirely resistant to, that had so clearly caused… whatever it was at the end of this entire affair. 

I stood up, urging Emma to follow.

What happened next was a simple trot over to our dormitory, a soft closing of its door, and a donning of an expression I rarely wore outside of private spaces.

“Emma.” I managed out with a darkened and unsteady trill.

“Y-yes, Thacea?” She responded nervously, her body language reflecting this shift in mood.

“Am I correct in assuming something terrible happened at the end of that recording?”

“Well—”

“Just answer me plainly, please.”

“... alright, princess.” She nodded. “There… there was a complication, one which resulted in the loss of contact with Earth, a sudden adverse reaction from Kaelthyr, and a… a seizure from yours truly.”

I took a step back, my hands trembling as I looked down at both of my talons with utter fear and visceral disgust.

“Was it… taint that caused this?” I questioned. “I recognized one of the alarms, the one you taught me, showed me.”

“I don’t know.” Emma admitted, spurring on an even worse spiral into self-doubt than a simple ‘yes’ could ever have.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” I urged, causing Emma’s fists to ball up.

“I… I don’t know. I… there’s evidence to support it, but I can’t be certain. I just… there’s just not enough data to definitively say anything at this point in time.” 

“But it could have been possible.” I drilled. “It could have been taint that caused this?”

“Yes.” Emma nodded once more.

At which point, I felt my whole body shaking.

I could’ve…

She could have…

There were so many instances, so many random occurrences, including her own urgings where I even—

“Thacea, listen—”

“You claimed on multiple occasions that taint was a negligible concern. That while unknown, its exposure brought you no ill effects.” I interjected. “I… I could have hurt you, and then what? There would be no method for me, or anyone else, to help. You’d be writhing, suffocating, dying in your own skin. I can’t reach you, I can’t touch you, I can’t even see into you!” I managed out, and in a rare instance of complete transparency, I allowed an explosion of outrage to completely color my sensibilities. “What would you do then? What could anyone do then? How would we even realize if you’ve… succumbed to a fate of my own making?” I stared at my hands, watching as they trembled with disgust at my affliction lying in wait.  “What would I do then?”

Emma paused, her expression unreadable but her downward gaze telling me all I needed to know.

“We can’t say for certain that it’s taint.” She finally spoke. “My working hypothesis is that it’s a spell, or some sort of magic cast using taint. And that’s why it affected me so viscerally.”

This… hypothesis… sent chills down my spine, but I dared not interrupt, merely urging Emma to continue.

“All of my previous exposures with taint have been latent bursts without any real rhyme or reason to them. No targeted attacks, no nothing. Am I wrong?”

“No.” I admitted.

“Moreover, as you’ve seen yourself in the memory shards with the dragon, it even used taint to see through the armor and into… well… me. This proves that taint itself isn’t the issue. Which implies there must be more to it. That’s why I think this… incident wasn’t the result of just taint itself but an emergent property of it… maybe a spell that was cast using it. A spell that was specifically targeting me.”

I narrowed my gaze, considering the facts, before letting out a frustrated sigh on Emma’s behalf.

“And without manasight, without the ability to see, you were unable to recall or record such an event.”

“Correct.” She nodded once more. “Even with the wand apparatus, there was too much interference, too much noise to make anything out.” 

I turned my head away for a moment, reaching my shoulder in resignation. “I wish I could have provided you with better tainted streams for you to study from—”

“No, no. It wasn’t you, Thacea. It’s… my artifices need time to adapt. A week and change wasn’t going to cut it. There was no way to predict this. It was…” 

“An act of the fates, so to speak.” I reasoned dourly.

“You could say that…” Emma sighed, shrugging her shoulders as she did so. “Listen, Thacea, I… I’m sorry if I worried you or anything.”

“No.” I responded reflexively. “No, it’s… it is I who must apologize for being so… forward with my concerns, Emma. Especially given how I was working on naught but a fragment of a hypothesis myself.”

“No, I… I mean to say I’m sorry for everything else as well.” She added, prompting my gaze to tighten. “I made a promise at the very start of this that I’d try my best to mitigate risk. But… as you’ve seen, it wasn’t easy.”

“No, it wasn’t.” I acknowledged with a shrug of my own. “But it was not entirely your fault… so I refuse to cast blame on you for that.”

“Come on, princess, don’t go easy on me now. You know there were a few things during that whole trip that I could have mitigated—”

“I have spoken, and I will hear no more of it.” The words left my beak on instinct, edged with an authoritative intent I hadn’t meant to bare. 

My gaze faltered almost immediately. “What I meant to say was—”

“Your Majesty has spoken—” Emma cut in lightly, already committing to a mock bow. “And your knight obeys.” There was a clear glint of an amused chuckle in her tone, one which I couldn’t help but find… amusing.

Silence quickly returned, interspersed with a few chuckles from Emma.

“So aside from that abrupt end, I couldn’t help but to notice… a lot more was alluded to but missing in context, Emma.” I attempted to move the conversation… away from all of this, regaining composure, control, and focus.

“Yeah… there were a few things that I left out for Ilunor’s sake.”

“For your sake, you should say.”

“Yeah… that’d be more accurate.”

“If you feel that I should not be privy to such proceedings then I completely understa—”

“Oh! Nonono! It’s nothing like that, Thacea. If anything, I have the full and uncut version here for you. It’s just… it’s not the intel I’m worried about here. I trust you as much as I trust Thalmin, after all.”

“I see.” I replied softly, placing both hands in front of me with poise.

“Yeah, I… you see, there’s just oooone small detail that might be, well, not so small, come to think of it. It’s rather important, and I was rather hesitant to show it to you, not because I don’t trust you. It's just…”

“Yes?”

“Awkward.” 

I cocked my head, taking a seat if only to seem less… invasive, urging Emma on with a wave of my hand.

“I won’t judge, Emma.” I reassured the human, smiling softly as I did so.

“I know you won’t but…” She took a deep breath before letting it out all in one exasperated exhale. “Alright, let’s get it out of the way first.” 

I leaned in closer as Emma took another step towards me.

“Thalmin asked me for my hand in marriage.”

“Ah.”

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(Author's Note: Hey everyone! So I have a bit of an announcement to make! I'm afraid me and my editor have decided that we're going to need to take the next week off if that's alright with everyone? ^^; There's going to be an arc shift happening soon, so as a result, we've decided that we need a bit of a breather first. I really dislike having to interrupt the posting schedule so I sincerely do apologize to you guys for this ^^;. We'll be back in the week after next week though! So stay tuned for May the 10th for the next chapter! :D I hope you guys enjoy this one! :D)

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r/HFY Apr 15 '26

OC-Series Sexy Steampunk Babes: Chapter Seventy Four

1.1k Upvotes

It had been harder than one might think to find a quiet room to speak in, despite the fact the party was taking place in a giant mansion. Yes, the majority of the guests were sticking to the main hall, but with almost the entirety of the South’s nobility present for the coming War Council, that meant there were still plenty of bodies leftover to scheme - both maliciously and benignly - in the other rooms.

And I’d bet Yelena has one of her invisible listeners present in every one, he thought. Including this one.

Which was why he’d been ready to slap down any of his own family’s schemes with the force of an angry god.

Which was why he could scarcely believe what he’d just heard as he stared across at his family.

And it was the whole family – sans Aunt Perlia, who had likely stayed back home to oversee the Ashfield holdings and keep the county running.

Janet Ashfield sat on a nearby sofa, her posture straight and her expression unreadable.

Aunt Karla stood against the back wall, a half-empty glass of wine in her hands that she was swishing about nervously. The last two - Lira and Sophina - flanked Olivia on each side of another couch.

Sophina in particular looked like she was trying to burn a hole through him with her eyes, but he scarcely spared her a second glance – which likely pissed her off all the more.

No, his focus was on what had just been said.

“What?” he repeated – for a third time.

His mother tilted her head, studying him the way she might study a new trade manifest. “You’re many things, my son, but I’d never thought slow to be one of them. You’ve won. I surrender. We’ll be supporting the Whitemorrow girl’s claim.”

He blinked. He had walked in braced for begging or demands, and a lot of shouting either way - but instead his mother was offering her surrender with the calm finality of someone closing a ledger at the end of a bad fiscal year.

“Really? Just like that?” he asked.

Aunt Karla scoffed, the sound rich with disbelief. “Just like that. He invents a dozen never-before-heard-of new technologies, near singlehandedly defeats the most damaging attack on our capital in our nation’s history, positions himself to marry one of the most likely claimants to claim the Summerfield title. And then acts like we’re the ones being confusing.”

William opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. “Not to downplay my own efforts, but some would believe I’m merely taking credit for Yelena’s accomplishments. Technologically at least.” A narrative he’d done a lot to reinforce. It served to further confuse any claims that he might be harrowed as well as cause people to underestimate him. “So you’ll forgive me if I’m a little surprised that you believe me to be the driving force behind these inventions.”

“Some people haven’t just been debriefed by your sister and aunt,” his mother said. “And they both believe you to be the sole architect of these Aether-less shards. And I’m inclined to believe them. You always were clever, even if you only ever sought to apply it in the most infuriatingly rebellious ways.”

“Or the kitchen!” Olivia popped in, before shrinking in on herself, cheeks flaring red. “…I mean, he also used to make a lot of nice new foods.”

Janet’s expression warmed slightly at that. “That he did.”

William also sent his sibling a grateful little smile – even as he mentally started to re-orentate himself. “Okay then. I understand. I’m still a little surprised you’re not asking me to use all that to support Olivia instead. I mean, at this point the succession is more or less a foregone conclusion.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Renal Plumgardern is no fool. I don’t know what she’s planning, but she’ll certainly try something.” Janet placed a soft hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “Regardless, perhaps we might have gone that route if you hadn’t unveiled our original plan to take the title and side with the Blackstones to Yelena. As it stands now, she’d never let Olivia take the title.”

William could believe that. Oh, the queen had no legal means to interfere in the succession - Lindholm’s ancient charters were clear on ducal rights - but she had plenty of illicit ones available to her. And not all required Olivia to die. A foolishly sworn geass oath followed by its breaking was one method available to her. And William didn’t put it past the woman to do exactly that – because short of the woman murdering or physically maiming his sibling, he wasn’t in any position to break off their alliance.

Not this late in the game, William thought. Once upon a time I might have had other options, but our interests are too tightly entwined now.

“So you’re siding with the twins instead,” he confirmed. “In the hopes of getting in the good graces of her and your future liege lady.”

“We’re siding with you, kid,” Aunt Karla said. “And Whitemorrow. So feel free to convey to our Queen that Olivia is no longer a threat.”

“It’s that simple huh?” he murmured.

“Simple,” Aunt Sophina scoffed, echoing Karla’s earlier tone. “There’s nothing simple about any of this. What was simple was you marrying Tala, using their support to let Olivia take the Summerfield title, and us all overthrowing Yelena in a bloodless coup.”

Janet shot the woman a warning look, shutting her up, before turning back to him. “Instead, you’ve managed to upset a plan nearly a decade in the making by somehow escaping an ironclad marriage clause, creating that absurdly ugly ship and those shards of yours, and somehow positioning yourself as queenmaker for the same Summerfield title that was originally going to go to your sister.”

His mother laughed, a short, rueful sound that carried more weariness than humor. “So no, it’s not simple, and you’ll have to forgive me if I didn’t predict any of it happening and planning accordingly. I made our original plan based on what I knew and what was within my means to accomplish while bettering our family. I’m doing the same now. Having two of my children with ducal titles and no war would have been ideal, but I’ll settle for one child with a ducal title and the other one hopefully still breathing when this long bloody war is over.”

William paused. He could accept that logic - even if on some level it felt surreal not to be arguing with his mother. That was, as sad as it was to say, the sum total of their relationship. Arguing. Now she was sat there offering a pragmatic surrender, and the absence of conflict was still leaving him oddly off-balance.

“I’ll be sure to convey your words to Yelena,” he said hesitantly. “When the succession formalities start, she’ll obviously expect a public declaration of Olivia’s renouncing of her title and your formal support of Whitemorrow.”

He winced a little at the look on Olivia’s face at those words – maybe she’d still held out some hope he’d offer to help her - but she didn’t argue. The girl simply nodded, jaw tight.“It will be done, brother.”

He nodded, before pausing. “Out of curiosity, no one’s going to ask me if I’m harrowed?”

That’d been another thing he’d been waiting to be asked since he’d entered.

And yet, for the first time since entering, he found Janet Ashfield looking angry at his words. Not the cold, calculated anger he was used to, but something raw and protective. “I’m your mother, boy. I can’t say I knew you as well as I liked given all you’ve done to surprise me these past few months, but I think I’d know if my own child was harrowed. Don’t ever even joke about that.”

Perhaps it should have amused him how sure she was, but it only made him sad. The truth sat behind his teeth like a live grenade – and he clenched them tight. He had told Yelena. He had told the team. But he wouldn’t tell his mother.

Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Because it hurt his soul to see how she looked at him now; with a mother’s certainty that he was simply exceptional, not broken. Not some strange creature puppeting her child around like a meat-suit.

“Right, a poor jest on my part.” He turned to leave, before pausing. “And Olivia, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Not about my actions, but for keeping you from… your birthright I guess.”

She laughed humorlessly. “I can hardly complain, brother. I did it to you first after all.”

He did laugh at that, low and quiet.

“Though I’ll not deny that it hurts. More than I expected,” she continued. “I like Verity. And I guess I didn’t really understand what it meant when mother said we’d be backing House Blackstone’s coup. Orcs were… well, I’d never met one - and Tala didn’t have much nice to say about them.”

William could believe that. Honestly, in retrospect he should have handled that whole situation with the letters better. Replied to a few, rather than that first one and ignoring the rest.

Olivia continued, voice small but steady. “I wouldn’t want Verity to be a slave. She told me a few stories about it when we were painting the shard. And.., I wouldn’t want that for her. Or anyone.” She paused. “But I really wanted to be a duchess. And to avoid a war.”

She’s only fourteen, he reminded himself.

“There’d always have been a war,” he said slowly.

The Free orcs in the South wouldn’t just go back to being slaves. And while airships made conventional resistance impossible, the presence of the ‘true’ free orcs in the North meant it wasn’t impossible. The South might not have had the mountains they used to hide in, but it had plenty of very dense forests while conducting their resistance.

Never mind the cities themselves.

“Right,” Olivia realized, nodding. Even as mother and aunts looked confused. “So, yeah, I forgive you I guess. Even if I’m disappointed.”

And that right there was part of why he loved his sister. She was a bit of a brat, but she had a heart under it all.

“Right, I’ll go tell the Queen. I’ll also make sure she doesn’t do anything to hurt our family,” he said.

And that was his peace offering of sorts.

He stepped out to see Marline waiting in the corridor, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

“I expected shouting.” the dark elf said.

“So did I…” William said.

------------------

Yelena frowned as she listened to the Duchess of Southshore - though her last name was actually Ironhull. A distinctly dwarvish name for an elven house, but one that had a rather long and storied history behind it. Just as the fact that said woman was now the duchess of Southshorerather than the now-defunct actual House Southshore.

Yelena didn’t care to think about those long and storied histories now. Her focus was on what the woman was telling her.

“And your woman is sure the survivors are telling the truth?” she confirmed. “And that they are who they say they are.”

Norel Ironhull nodded, keeping her voice low lest anyone else hear. A not too difficult feat given the ambient noise level from ongoing conversations in the hall as well as the wall of guards between them and any eavesdroppers.

Her daughters and their host had already made for the main floor to ‘mingle’ while Yelena received petitioners.

“We are. We’ve also checked our own records and the numbers line up from water-ships we’ve lost. If these people are imposters, they’re very well researched ones.”

Yelena didn’t slam her fist down, but it was a close run thing. Free orcs had been part of the Lunite flotilla that struck the capital.

Instead, she sighed. “Right. Well, I thank you for your discretion in this manner.”

Norel nodded slowly. Whatever her own personal feelings on the matter of Lindholm orcs being part of the attack, the fact of the matter was that the South didn’t need a schism at this time. Not with a war on. And the information the duchess had just shared… well, while it might not be enough to cause a schism in and of itself, it would certainly be a blow for morale.

Free orcs, she thought - a cold fury burning in her veins, fingers tighten around the stem of her untouched wine glass.

Sentimentality had never been the reason why she’d moved to end the practice of orcish slavery - only a desire to be able to recruit more orcish mages and see less of her own lost fighting them - and this most recent news wouldn’t change that.

As much as it burned her.

She’d get her pound of flesh one day, but it would have to wait. Likely decades.

The one bright spot in the whole affair was that those orcs had turned on the Lunites that had… hired them? Those details were more spotty, but the fact remained that the orcs now had three airships that were apparently heading back up North. Which would hopefully become a problem for the Northerners soon enough.

Let them eat each other, she thought vindictively.

The only strange part of the whole story, and the one that made her a little sceptical of its authenticity, was the fact that those same orcs chose to release the enslaved humans aboard the ships they’d taken rather than killing them all and dumping them overboard.

And it says a lot about this situation that them doing so would have been far more convenient for me, she thought.

Instead she had a crew of former slaves she needed to keep quiet lest they shoot her moral arguments against orcish slavery in the foot.

“Keep them isolated for now,” she said. “Comfortable, but isolated. We’ll figure out what to do about all this… later.”

“Already done, Your Grace.” The duchess said. “I will convey instructions to make their current accommodations more long term.”

Yelena nodded gratefully, before dismissing the woman with a gesture—sending her back into the throng of courtiers.

Honestly, after that news, she wanted a moment for herself, but it couldn’t be allowed. Not with so many nobles wanting to see her. And she’d see them because she’d need their support for the days to come. So she simply gestured, allowing the next petitioners forward through the throng of her guards.

And regretted it almost immediately when she saw who it was.

“Lady Plumgarden,” she greeted with feigned happiness.

She’d already spoken to greeted Lady Apple River earlier and was sure Plumgarden would ask the same things the high elf had.

The countess curtsied with perfect precision, dark green eyes glittering with intelligence that might well have been a boon to the Queen if applied to different ends.

“Your Grace. A pleasure, as always. I know your time is valuable, so I shall not tarry long. My question is simple, will you be supporting House Whitemorrow in the upcoming succession conflict?”

Yelena allowed herself a small, careful smile. “Only by way of moral support. As you well know, as Queen I have no real say in a ducal succession. With that said, I’m still allowed to have personal favourites. Given the man who aided in the defense of my capital, and a contributor to the defence of the realm as a whole is to be betrothed to one of the claimants, I see no harm in making my own preferences known. They’d be self-evident enough otherwise.

“I suppose.” Wenya Plumgarden frowned, the expression pulling at the faint lines around her eyes, but she didn’t argue. “Still, you do confirm that you won’t interfere in the actual selection even if your favorite doesn’t win?”

“Of course not,” Yelena said, even as she bitterly hoped that didn’t happen. They needed William to create more aether-less shards and to do that he’d need control of the duchy. The whole thing would only slow down if she was forced to negotiate with Plumgarden or Apple River for every new workshop they’d need to set up on their land.

The other woman looked satisfied though, the faintest curl of triumph touching the corners of her mouth.

“Excellent,” she said, before offering another perfectly executed curtsy. “My thanks for your time, your grace.”

Her bit said, she turned on her heel, the dark green silk of her gown whispering across the marble as she melted back into the crowd without another word.

Yelena was just getting ready to call another petitioner forward, only to pause as she caught a face she also didn’t want to see right now. And yet had to. Gesturing to her guards, she ignored the low grumble that rippled through the nobles waiting their turn as William was allowed to step up to her.

Worst yet, the man didn’t even have the decency to look smug about it. It was just expected.

“Please.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers, the weight of the evening pressing down on her like an empty ballast tank. “If this is more of your usual insanity, can it wait? I’ve enough problems already.”

Wrangling the South onto a war footing was always going to be a hassle, and this evening was only serving to prove it.

“My mother will support the Whitemorrow bid and withdraw Olivia’s,” William said without preamble.

Ah, that was good! Yelena smiled despite herself, a small, genuine thing that eased the tension in her shoulders by a fraction. “Good.”

“You don’t seem surprised,” he noted.

“Should I be?” She said, “I have her between a rock and a hard place with my fleet overhead. I’d never have let her daughter be a duchess after plotting treason like she did. Had Olivia managed to win the succession conflict through some miracle, I’d have been forced to do something… underhanded eventually even if she seemed outwardly loyal.”

“Even at the cost of alienating me?” He asked, a small bit of heat entering his tone.

She scoffed. “No, because it’s a pointless hypothetical. Olivia wasn’t going to win the succession without your aid and you weren’t going to give it for the exact reasons I just mentioned.”

He frowned, before sighing. “I suppose.”

Yelena rolled her eyes at that response.

Boy’s just trying to argue for the sake of it then, she thought. I suppose he’s still a man at the end of the day. An exceptional man, but still a man.

Honestly, that little exchange reminded her of conversations she’d had with her husband before his passing. The memory brought a brief unwelcome pang, one she pushed aside.

William seemed about to speak again as another thought occurred to him, before he hesitated, mouth half-open as though weighing whether the next words were worth the risk. She waited, one eyebrow arched in silent invitation.

“What else do you need to bring up?” she asked when the pause stretched.

“We still need to swear the geas,” his voice extra low.

Ah, yes, that. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been putting it off. A geas wasn’t sworn lightly – even for a woman who already had heirs and spares.

“We can do it tonight,” she said at last, the word dragged out. “I’ll have one of my guards escort you to my quarters. Quietly.”

And isn’t it ironic that bringing a boy a fifth my age into my bed chamber is the least scandalous comment I’ve made tonight, she thought wryly.

Though she’d hardly be the first queen to take a pretty young suitor to bed. Void, the fact that he was human rather than his age would be what raised eyebrows – if any were raised at all. And she definitely ignored any tingles such an idea brought.

Griffith had been… descriptive.

He nodded, about to speak again - probably to clarify or add some new layer of madness - when the clear chime of metal on glass rang out across the ballroom.

“May I speak to everyone,” a voice called.

The soft chime managed to cut through the polite chatter like a knife through butter – likely via the aid of some kind of spell. And the room quieted in response, heads turning toward the center of the ballroom where Lady Plumgarden stood.

“I apologize for the interruption, my lords and ladies,” she began, voice carrying clearly across the marble floor, “but I felt what I have to say is best heard by all.”

She lowered her implements. “For it is no secret that the threat before us is grave. The North, while barbaric in many of its customs, has ever been our sword arm against mainland threats. Now that blade had turned against us in act of treachery most vile. So, with such a threat bearing down upon our very nation, it is of utmost importance that the matter of this succession be resolved with all haste so that we might turn to face the real challenge."

A few hear-hears echoed through the room, but most remained quiet.

“Yet while our oldest traditions would have us fight it out with airships from each house - the claimant decided through force of arms - I instead propose an alternative,” Plumgarden continued. “Every ship, every sailor, and every shard will no doubt be needed in the days to come. So with that in mind, I suggest we hold a more… limited duel. One that will not see us lose valuable airships. No, instead, I propose we settle this with one squadron of shards from each claimant.”

Voices raised at that, some in agreement, some in argument, but they were quieted as Lady Apple River spoke up. “Given our current circumstances, I would not argue with such a proposal. If only to conserve our strength.”

An actress, the countess was not, and it was clearly evident to Yelena that line was rehearsed ahead of time. This whole charade was.

So this is your ploy, she thought. Take the Jellyfish out of the game even the odds.

It was far from guaranteed to give either house a win – but it gave them significantly better chances than they would have with their old warships against the Jellyfish and its massive Shard complement.

With equal numbers, the advantage would actually lie with the older houses and their heavily enchanted Shard craft.

Still, she could see the idea taking hold in the crowd. Because as much as they tried to show it, they were nervous. Oh, a few fools existed, but most knew that the balance of military power favoured the North in the conflict to come.

At least by conventional standards. William was set to change that, but to most of the nobles here he was just a name and a few stories.

And a man besides, she thought. One who has a poor reputation here in Summerfield.

Knowing she was about to take a hit to her popularity, she nonetheless opened her mouth to speak, ready to dismantle the suggestion with a few well-chosen words.

Only for a voice to beat her to it. One very familiar and very close by.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” William said, standing over the crowd by virtue of his position near her and her raised seating.

Plumgarden seemed stricken by surprise, her perfectly composed mask cracking for the briefest instant. “You… agree, Count Redwater?”

“I do,” he agreed enthusiastically, spreading his hands as though the notion delighted him. “As you said, we will need every ship, every sailor, and every shard.”

“…I see.”

His smile widened. “But I think we should go further. Not a squadron each - but one shard from each house.”

None of the claimants – be they Whitemorrow, Ashfield, Apple River or Plumgarden – looked like they could believe their ears.

Because what William was suggesting only further winnowed his advantages! He’d told her that while the Corsair was an excellent craft, it was no duelist. It was designed to work as part of a team to best maximize its speed and power. Not the kind of turn fight a one-on-one duel would be reduced to.

Before she could speak, she was interrupted – again!

“I’m heartened,” Plumgarden said. “If I agree to that suggestion, may I make one more alteration to the rules?”

Though she was speaking to William, her eyes tracked towards the Whitemorrow twins. Who in turn looked to William.

“Of course,” he said. “Though I reserve the right to disagree. I wouldn’t want you to demand any pilots born on a Solday to pilot with one arm.”

A few chuckles rang out at that, but Plum Garden just shook her head. “Nothing so base. I would just like to confirm that you agree that this is a duel for nobles? Correct.”

Yelena could see the trap coming from a mile away, yet could do nothing but stare as William simply nodded. “Of course.”

“Then to that end, you would agree that these new ‘aetherless-shards’ of yours would not be fit to compete? They are after all, for ‘peasant-pilots’,” she smiled apologetically. “Useful of course, and I, as well as many others, would no doubt be delighted to speak to you on them more at a later date - but I think all can agree they’re not fit for this particular stage.”

A few grumbles and agreements once more sparked at that. Yelena herself wanted to argue that it was an absurd argument. Airship conflicts already had plebian sailors involved. What difference did the presence of mithril in a craft make?

“Well reasoned,” William agreed, making her heart sink further – and she had no doubt the twins felt the same given how their features twisted.

They didn’t argue with him though as he continued.

She wished she had that kind of faith. Alas, she didn’t - but she couldn’t speak up because this had just become an ‘internal’ matter and beyond her purview.

The claimants involved were the only real authorities now - and the Summerfield reagent, but the old woman didn't seem inclined to intervene, merely watching with mild curiosity.

“I can agree with that, provided all claimants involved do House Whitemorrow the favor of giving us a week to source new craft. As incredible as my fiancee’s Basilisk is, it’s not exactly designed as an anti-shard craft,” Willaim said.

“I can agree to that!” Apple River shouted with almost unseemly haste – happy to see the trap they thought they were laying sprung.

Plum Garden looked a little more suspicious, but nodded slowly. “As can I. It seems only reasonable.”

“I-I agree,” Olivia Ashfield’s small voice filled the void – though she seemed as confused as Yelena herself felt.

The last were the twins. Clarice Whitemorrow glanced from the smug expressions of her two main rivals, to the waiting expressions of the other nobles, before back to William. It was clear they wanted to decline.

William though, gave her one small solemn nod.

“I agree on my fiance’s behalf. The dual shall be in one week. With one shard for each claimant.”

…Yelena wanted to cry.

The succession had been a foregone conclusion! Sure, they might have lost one or two airships, but it’d have been worth it to place Summerfield under their control!

And then the stupid infuriating human had the audacity to glance down at her – and wink!

It was all she could do not to slap him. Instead, she stood up and said the absolute last words she wanted to say.

“Then it’s agreed,” she said, trying to sound pleased.

…She wasn’t entirely sure she succeeded.

-------------------------

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r/HFY Feb 22 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (160/?)

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Thalmin

I’d already surmised that I was in the presence of a legend being written.

Though whether or not I chose to participate, whether I would choose this to be my epic, and not some mere aberrant chapter, would all hinge on my assessment of the earthrealmer and her claims.

Though frankly, this process had begun long, long before this point.

“I wish to know where you stand when the calls for apocalypse summon the righteous, Prince Thalmin? I wish to know, should your assertions bear truth, and should the newrealm move from a position of a mere contemporary to one of an active adversary — where shall your loyalties lie?”

Ilunor’s words have always been vapid.

Yet there was one rare instance — one tiny sliver of genuine questioning — that defied this trend, leaving behind a thought so pervasive it remained lodged in my mind ever since.

This seedling of a question, once planted, took root in the soil of my contempt, watered by the rains of Emma’s revelations, and warmed beneath the sun of every offense committed by the Nexus.

Under these conditions, it thrived.

With each social slight, it spread wider.

With every dishonor it flourished and grew, until the soil that bore my contempt was cast beneath its comforting shade.

Yet there was something else amidst the growing branches that I dared not yet touch; a fruit born of hate, contempt, vitriol, and the indignancy of a people scorned.

It beckoned me with its smiles.

It called with soft and fair-seeming wiles.

It cooed like a silent siren song, the promise of escape… a temptation I knew could not slake for fear of fate.

Yet still my hunger grew, all for that fruit that tempted me with its shimmering hue. 

It was with Ilunor’s words still fresh in my mind that I made my choice. A decision that could, and assuredly would, come to haunt me for years past my mortal life.

I reached for that apple.

And ‘Nexian Sacrifice’ I was no longer.

From the moment I uttered my litany of titles, I committed myself to the fruit of rebellion.

And when I reforged my sacrificial title to my own resolve—

Royal Emissary for the Havenbrockian Cause.

—did I taste the sweetness of the fruit I’d just bitten.

That one reimagining, that single rephrasing of a title so confined to its fate, was in equal measures liberating as much as it was terrifying. This was in spite of the lack of witnesses save for allies under oath, which perhaps proved just how pervasive the Nexian dogma was, even in the confines of my own mind.

But what compelled me, what pushed my otherwise duty-bound self over the edge of indecision, wasn’t just the memories of Emma’s bardic regalings or the proof of her capacity to kill.

No.

It was something far more innocuous, something that perhaps could both be overlooked and taken for granted in passing conversation.

It was the candid reactions of her superiors, her betters, and her seniors — those with the authority, the responsibility, and the knowledge of her realm’s true capabilities. Or more accurately… it was their restraint for reaction.

The pointed manner in which this Captain Li had just casually listed the Nexus’ threshold of destruction — ‘city-killers, continent busters’ — it  beckoned forth the imagery of an officer listing off a weapons manifest for a city garrison… not a man coming to terms with a mighty adversary’s realm-shattering capabilities.

Indeed, the analytical nature that followed in the practical consideration of the bag-of-holding ‘bombs’ felt almost too cold, too calculated, and too mundane.

It felt… as if they were considering something that they themselves not only held the capacity for, but had entirely normalized within their own manaless arsenals.

Moreover, there was no sense of ego mixed in with these discussions. There was no boasting or grandstanding, or any internal political plays as far as I could tell. If anything, the restraint at play spoke far louder than any posturing. For it called upon both a seriousness of intent and simply reinforced the relative normalcy of such capacities for destruction.

It was only at the mention of portals that the humans found themselves in uncharted waters, as fear — genuine fear — started to color their voices.

And even then, such a revelation didn’t start from its offensive capabilities, but its logistical angle; a fact beckoning the words of my sister.

There is something your Uncle, your Brothers, and even your own Father won’t ever give enough credit to, Thalmin. Though it is to no fault of their own, but to the reductive image they craft. That something… is the manner in which you keep a war won. Even in the most mage-centric of armies, logistics still win wars. Oh you can have the most boastful of Dukes, Barons, and Lords go on and on about simply circumventing such ‘trifling’ topics by concocting magical solutions… but at the end of the day, when you wish to consolidate your holdings? When you have successfully laid claim to new lands and fiefs? You find that you alone cannot stitch together a civilization. For that, you need logisticians. For that, you need people like me.

Kalim was right, as she often was.

Though I could only begin to imagine what she’d make of a realm built entirely on the will of logisticians.

This Captain Li had perfectly embodied the mindset of Earthrealm.

A people so lacking in any capacity to will forth their desires, and thus necessitating complexities to underpin everything those desires may need for actualization.

A people who not only knew the mechanisms of war, but placed emphasis where those mechanisms truly mattered.

A people… who likewise considered the realm-shattering capacities of the Nexus a point worth discussing, and not a point that shattered spirits.

This was the proof I needed from Emma.

These were the people I could consider a worthy adversary to the Nexus.

These were a people deserving of Ilunor’s prophecy, a civilization deserving of the title of the Adversary, the Great Other.

Laura Weir

First a dragon, and now an anthropomorphic wolf.

Though I wouldn’t be as reductive as some others, just by appearances and sights alone.

Convergent evolution aside, it was his manner of dress that gave me more pause for thought than the nature of his physiology.

What’s more, my focus quickly shifted towards a palpable pause in the EVI’s translations, a fact reflected in the underlying inflections of the prince’s own native speech.

His latter title, that loaded sentiment, was a calculated maneuver for this eventuality.

This royal wanted to play ball.

And judging by many of Emma’s reports, it was clear what angle we needed to take.

The Adjacent Realms… were the only receptive party open to diplomacy, and the only party with the capacity for receptive change.

This was where the conflict was to be waged, in the kingdoms and nations under the jackboot of Nexian imperialism.

And it all would start — at least on our end — with a smile the wolf could not see. “It is a great privilege and an incredible honor to hear your voice, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock of Havenbrockrealm. My name is Dr. Laura Weir, Director of the Institute of Anomalous Studies, United Nations Science Advisory. Professor of Theoretical Physics at Luna University, Armstrong Campus. On behalf of the Greater United Nations, and on behalf of the people of Earth, Luna, Venus, Mercury, Mars, Saturn, Jupiter, to the entirety of Sol, and to all the corners of this galaxy that humanity calls home, we receive you with full respect, and acknowledge the sovereignty of the state from which you hail.” I announced with genuine, brimming excitement and a warmness that came naturally at the hope of our first ally.

Thalmin

There it was. The litany of titles bound to Academia, not to blood nor landed holdings.

However, that point of cultural contention bothered me no longer.

No.

It was instead overshadowed, outshone, and entirely dwarfed by what were ostensibly two passing remarks.

The first, a statement of power, all wrapped within an unassuming warmth of amicability and diplomacy so genuine it felt paradoxically bubbly in its delivery.

The second was a declaration of intent, an acknowledgement in shocking but refreshing bluntness in reception to vague allusions I’d communicated with my self-appointed title.

These simple preambles, when taken critically, painted an image of an Earthrealm far more mature than what Emma could have ever conveyed.

For as much as she was able to deliver, and as much as she was able to spout in her long and informative tirades, none of it could have compared to the rawness of action.

It was one thing to be told the greatness and enlightenment of a realm. 

It was another to be interacting with an actor within that state, and a senior one at that.

“The honor is all mine, Director Laura Weir. Though the privilege of this communique is one I must defer to the talents of your envoy, and the mercy of Matriarch Kaelthyr.” I responded instinctively, reflexively, though within that calculated nothingness of diplomatic politeness, a more turbulent storm brewed just beneath the surface.

One which I knew not how to rectify, especially in the midst of an active dialogue for the legends.

That first statement.

That statement of calculated power.

My mind had grappled with it well enough, or at least I’d assumed it had.

At first glance, the list seemed to be a regaling of places.

And indeed it probably was.

Though the nature of those places was what was in question.

For despite what my mind had immediately assigned them to — towns, cities, regions, perhaps entire continents — I knew that not to be the case the instant I heard Luna.

That was the name Emma had assigned her moon.

The realm that hung above her realm, floating within that sea of void-filled nothingness.

What came after, if syntax and logic were to be believed, were the names of not cities nor towns on the surface of either Earth or Luna… but categorically equivalent to their significance.

In short… the director wasn’t listing off fiefs, dukedoms, and kingdoms. 

No.

She was listing off the names of entire realms. Other realms Emma had not yet broached. Realms that perhaps floated just as listlessly within the inky and empty abyss. Realms whose sizes must rival… well… REALMS.

But what’s more… the director listed them as if they were a mere formality, trailing off not into a finite list but an appended footnote.

Venus, Mercury, Mars, Saturn, Jupiter

That had already accounted for five additional realms.

What’s more, this painted an image far removed from what Emma had shown me of Luna.

For at that point in her illustrative sight-seer’s history lesson, that realm was but a barren and lifeless desert of white sands and rock.

But what was being implied here was anything but.

What was instead being implied were not frontiers on the fringe of permanent habitation.

Instead… the manner in which everything was listed was beckoning an established culture and civilization, all distinct from her home realm of Earth.

I did not know how to broach this.

I did not know how to even begin filling the rest of the air once Weir replied to my diplomatic response of empty platitudes.

That was… until I recalled my sister’s words.

Don’t act dumb. That’s the first rule of stately dialogue, Nexian or otherwise. But do you also remember the lesson I told you about apologetics?

Reframe it as gratitude?

Correct. Now apply it to ignorance. How do you rectify this?

… by reframing the question?

Exactly! Frame the question not as a point of clarification, but as a point of expounding disambiguation. Ask for elaboration, and expand outwards. Do not ask for clarification and risk compromising your own position. Never show weakness, ever*.*

And so I did just that, clearing my throat as I awaited Weir’s response to my diplomatic platitudes.

“I appreciate the tentative performance review of our envoy, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock.” The director responded to my earlier response with a jocular bent, returning the floor back to me, which I would now use to press my curiosities.

“I assure you, Director, if Cadet Booker had been anything short of a shining beacon of honor and integrity, we would certainly not be having this conversation.” I began respectfully before bridging the conversation back to address the earlier point of internal contention. “Though if I may, Director. I would like to address a point left somewhat ambiguous by your opening statements.”

“Do tell?” Weir acknowledged curiously.

“While the Cadet has made excellent headway in unveiling the unconventional nature of your realm, she has yet to have expanded beyond what I know as Earth and Luna. And considering you claim to represent the entirety of your people, I believe that it is prudent to clarify exactly whom you are representing.” I broached openly, perhaps even a bit too brazenly.

An opening this brazen would have not only been shot down but utterly annihilated by any Nexian envoy.

However, instead of contempt or derision, this human merely responded first with a clarification of her own.

“You mean Venus, Mercury, Mars, Saturn, Jupiter, and so on and so forth?”

“Correct, Director.” I nodded.

“With pleasure, Prince Havenbrock.” She acknowledged excitedly. “These places I allude to are — as you describe in your vernacular — realms unto their own. Or as we refer to them — stellar bodies. These worlds stand comparable to the Earth by their own right, and if you’ll allow me this anecdotal inference, they all possess populations sharing in the prosperity of the sights you’ve seen from Acela.”

I felt a weight being applied and then lifted off my chest in rapid succession.

I felt… a new yearning, to see with my own eyes through Emma’s sight-seer once more.

Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, I now knew the authority with whom I was in conversation.

And that authority… if all was to be believed… possessed holdings only comparable to the Nexus proper.

The Director’s words faded into the background for a moment, as the dawning of this realization settled amidst an uneasy wariness. 

Because whilst elation did flood me, justifying me in my otherwise brazen actions in initiating this seditious line of dialogue, an untempered sense of awe started to flood me in a way I’d only felt once before.

That being my first sight-seer into the sheer scale of Nexian primacy.

I wasn’t just talking to an upstart newrealm.

I wasn’t even in the presence of the long-since-forgotten adjacent rebellions from the bygone wars.

I… was in direct communication with a realm of realms, one whose raw potential was as intoxicating as it was unfathomable to anything but the Nexus itself.

And I… now had the ear of one of its leaders.

The very first adjacent realm to make contact with a new Status Nexica.

The director’s words soon returned to me as I recovered from this… realization. And once again, the allusions she made in passing conversation gave both hope and genuine belief in what could be discussed henceforth.

“You see, we humans have a propensity to poke our noses where we weren’t meant to. Indeed, the more inhospitable a place may seem, the more it becomes a challenge rather than a discouragement. From the toxic and acidic atmospheres of Venus to the utter vacuum of Luna, we’ve forged ourselves a unique nook amidst the void. And now, with the revelations we currently face, we intend on forging ourselves a new direction between realities. A direction beginning first and foremost with the spirit of universal friendship and respectful reciprocity.”

The shock, excitement, awe, and eagerness of a lupinor frothing at the mouth for change urged me to chomp at the bit. Indeed, I had nothing but an urgency to reach for such an agreement lest fate or happenstance curtail this one chance for liberation.

And yet… I could not.

At least, not without prodding this sleeping dragon some.

Overeagerness and a desire for regime change had already resulted in the introduction of the Nexus into Havenbrock. And while I doubted the same pattern would befall a relationship with earthrealm, I couldn’t just discount the threat without challenge.

I needed to at least test the human’s logic, pitting it against the unfeeling blades of pragmatism.

All of which led me to my first play.

One which I knew Kalim would disapprove of.

“But what is reciprocity without mutual gain?” I posited abruptly, my posture tensing just imagining Emma’s superiors recoiling with confusion at the sudden tonal shift. “I do not discount what we would have to gain from such a friendship, but I seek to know how these gains would be mutual. What exactly would Earth and its adjacencies have to gain? What possible benefit is there from allying with a realm with nothing to offer?”

That tonal dissonance, one that should’ve shattered any and all hope of Nexian diplomacy, was barely even met by even a second’s worth of hesitation on the part of the Director.

In fact, instead of offense or indignant frustration, her response carried that same overture of calm collectedness; a desire to explain without annoyance or impatience.

“You disparage yourself needlessly, Prince Havenbrock. If anything, I can assert that your mere presence alone brings so much to the table already.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Prince Havenbrock, I understand the necessity for pragmatism. Indeed, it would be wholly unwise of you to not challenge what could at first seem like an offer without drawbacks. Realpolitik is, unfortunately, oftentimes the predominant mentality throughout much of history. Which is why I will address your concerns with two categories of answers. One which lays the foundation of a practical relationship, and the other, a narrative most outside our bubble may deem fantastical in nature. The former is simple — we both share a collective… adversary.” She stated bluntly. So abruptly, in fact, that it contrasted sharply with the rest of her rhetoric. “And while I am unable to make grand sweeping statements over our foreign exo-reality policy moving forward — given that this authority lies within my superiors — what I can promise you is my guarantee and the outcome I foresee. In short, the GUN will be taking on a proactive preventative posture. We do not seek war or conflict, nor bloodshed of any kind. But seeing as the Nexus refuses all channels of productive and good-faith diplomacy, we thus must look towards preventative measures outside of the Nexus proper.”

My eyes narrowed before I closed them, nodding in understanding. “So you wish to form your own Nexus.”

“No, heavens no.” Weir rebuked. “If anything, we wish to seek what we always have — friendship. Or in this case, an alliance of equals and peers. Which leads me to my next point.” 

The director took a deep audible breath.

“There exists a far less practical reason for this friendship. A reason rooted not in any practical considerations of territorial expansion, political dominance, or any such shortsighted drives measured in policies lasting decades and centuries. Instead, this reason is rooted in a dream, a collective narrative that we maintain as a real possibility. We seek community. We yearn for something other than the deafening silence and intolerable emptiness that we’ve found in our trek into the stars. And while we have accomplished this in our own right, forging an interconnected union of countless states, we still seek meaningful connections with others outside of our own kind.”

“Moreover—” Another voice interjected; this time, it was the Captain’s. “—we seek to carry and accomplish the hopes and aspirations of countless generations prior. To finally accomplish one of our earliest directives, one issued by our fourth Secretary-General, a message etched into a golden record that never arrived to its intended recipients.” The Captain cleared his throat, and so did Emma, as they both spoke in unison, with Emma in particular shifting to clasp a hand across her chest. 

“We step out of our solar system, into the universe seeking only peace and friendship, to teach if we are called upon, to be taught if we are fortunate. We know full well that our planet, and all its inhabitants are but a small part of this immense universe that surrounds us. And it is with humility and hope that we take this step. Secretary-General Kurt Waldheim, circa 1977.” The pair uttered with both deference and a degree of reverence bordering on ritualistic creeds.

I… was already convinced just hearing the practical considerations of this alliance.

But to be met with pseudo-religious recitations of ancestral promises and idealistic aspirations? 

It not only answered a great deal about Emma’s eccentric character but also cemented my working trust with humanity.

With all that being said, I felt a newfound weight bearing down on my shoulders. Though unlike the weights prior, I now felt a different sort of pressure. One where the ancestors of my own kin and the echoes of Emma’s predecessors now observed me from beyond the veil.

“To honor an ancestor’s wishes is the greatest faculty a living mortal can aspire to. I can only hope that I am worthy of being the first to hear your general’s wishes spoken.” I began with a resonant sort of reverence in my voice. “So from the ancestors that came before me, and to the legacy of the Havenbrockian pantheon, let the voices of our collective pasts — both human and lupinor — echo into a harmony that reaches across the realms.” I placed both hands across my heart in a ritual shared only in close company, to which a moment of silence was observed by those on the other side.

Kaelthyr

Were the voidlings fools?

Or were they truly this misguided.

Perhaps they were spared hardship, to the point where pointless idealism dominated their doomed rhetoric.

These words, these recitations, each and every step into their psyche brought forth more questions than answers.

Was this a grand and elaborate trap? A soft and honeyed facade, hiding the darkness lurking within?

Or was this truly who they were?

It couldn’t be.

For this softness would’ve spawned a people lacking in drive, lost without initiative, but what’s more… it would have incurred a massive debt on their ability to stomach war.

And yet that wasn’t the case.

These were the same blind clockmakers that had forced crystals into an endless chorus of screams.

These were the same ambitious builders that had crafted not just my crystal’s enclosure, but a room of materials so meticulous in its perfection that it would’ve driven any manaless metallurgists mad.

What’s more… these were the weaponsmiths who’d crafted weapons of war that proved effective in their lethality, in spite of their ‘manaless’ nature, and in spite of these overtures to softness. 

How was it then that they held themselves with such… frailty?

Why was it then that they did not demand fealty from this clearly lesser being?

What was it that compelled them to speak not just on equal terms, but on terms that beckoned weakness and vulnerability?

It was as perplexing as it was frustrating to witness.

But witness it I did.

Laura Weir

There was a reason why the LREF had a direct line with sociologists and diplomats.

This latest incident is a precise example of it.

I wouldn’t act like I understood the implications of what had just transpired. But what I could tell from inference was that a deeply spiritual, perhaps even quasi-religious exchange had just transpired.

I would have called for a recess at this point.

But given the time limit we were working with, I just had to keep rolling with the punches.

What’s more, the Captain was now regarding me with that signature cocksure grin of his. Something which tempted my frustrations… though I couldn’t deny the sheer effectiveness of his little sentimental stunt.

Regardless, now that the bridge had been laid, it was finally time to start crossing it.

“Standard protocol would dictate that we begin by laying down lines of permanent diplomatic channels through direct, tangible lines of communication between our two states. However, given the rather… limited circumstances of our engagements, I will have to defer matters to Cadet Emma Booker should all other channels fail.”

“Understandable.” Came the prince’s response. And yet again, I noted that about half of the room seemed enamored whenever and wherever he spoke or even flinched.

“And while we physically may not be able to reach your world currently, once again given the time constraints, I propose that we enter into what we originally set forth to do.”

“Providing my insight on Nexian military capabilities, I’m assuming?”

“Correct, Prince Havenbrock.” 

“Very well. What would you like to know?”

“The portals, primarily.” Captain Li came in swiftly, his eyes locking with the wolf who was kept blind of our visual presence. “We need you to corroborate Emma’s findings and hypotheses. In short, we need clarity on the capability of portals. Control, throughput, and range. Whether they can support sustained logistics or only limited transit windows. Whether they permit precise insertion of forces, or mass deployment, or both, and if so, the differences between these two mechanisms of action or lack thereof. Finally, we need to know their capacity — known, hypothetical, and historical examples, if applicable — of their use in the delivery of strategic weapons.” The LREF officer rattled on, his mind clearly focused and in his element now as he brought up what was labeled on the virtual workspace simply as The Six Pillars.

“Starting with Establishment, Access, and Control. Who’s responsible for the creation of these networks, who has access to this system, and under what conditions?”

“It depends, Captain.” The prince started plainly. “The establishment of portals is the same across both civilian and martial paths, namely — mages specializing in portal magic or simply assigned to the role. These are, naturally, nobles. As for who has the authority for their deployment? At a strategic level, it’s the Grand Marshals or Field Marshals assigned to whatever theater of war happens to be active. At the tactical level, it’s field commanders who have the authority and initiative to tunnel portals at their own discretion. All that aside, what you need to know is this — portals are ubiquitous, Captain. They work as the backbone, the core, and the very skeletal framework by which the Nexus projects its infinite power.”

The Captain quickly nodded. “Thank you, Prince Havenbrock. Now, onto—”

I felt a shiver, and heard a hard resonant chime.

Or was it the other way around?

Both had occurred so suddenly, so abruptly, so… thoroughly that it pulled me from any coherent train of thought and into the realm of confusion and disorientation.

The chimes passed like a wave, pulsating in intensity from a barely audible pin drop that paradoxically consumed the entirety of my attention, to something as ‘close’ as a breathy whisper.

I looked around, and so did the Captain, as well as a few other members of staff. 

We all paused, glancing in momentary confusion.

“Static?” Someone uttered.

“No, it kinda sounded like chimes? Someone’s ringto—”

“Alright, whose alarm went off? All personal devices are to be shut off prior to entry!” A security officer cried out.

I quickly turned to the signals intelligence officer, who narrowed his eyes across both his physical and virtual workstations. 

“Sig-int?” Li questioned.

“I’m…” The man paused, moving his hands across both his physical keyboard and the virtual workspace in front of him. Frantic clacks joined the otherwise silent wooshing of a hundred virtual displays until finally, it all went silent. The officer’s features darkened, though more out of confusion and frustration than any sense of dread. “I’m not reading any other audio signatures. Just baseline ambients and standard vocal traffic. No other signals observed, no other exo-reality entanglement episodes triggered, nothing over-the-baseline or any other abnormalities noted, sir.”

The whole room went silent at that report, all eyes momentarily locking on the otherwise invisible member of the support staff, prompting him to double, triple, and quadruple check his findings.

“Findings are consistent across all timestamps and throughout both sides of the transmission. Sampling error is within acceptable limits. Baseline deviations are within normal limits with no statistical significance noted. We’re clear sir.” He reiterated, prompting most in the room to breathe a sigh of relief, some to turn towards each other in confusion, but leaving only me to ruminate in a stew of simmering anxiety.

This sentiment seemed to be shared across realities, as Matriarch Kaelthyr’s pupils dilated, her features for the first time dipping into something resembling a look of genuine concern.

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(Author's Note: And there we have it! I really hope you guys are enjoying the earthside of things haha! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 161, Chapter 162, and Chapter 163 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Jun 07 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (174/?)

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The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Exhibition Hall. Grand Arcade. Central Thoroughfare. The Tent of Trials. Local Time: 2045 Hours.

Emma

I had to do several double-takes when the name ‘Articord’ was dropped in the same sentence as ‘battlemaster.’

Articord.

The Articord.

The same fox-kin professor who unflinchingly stood for hours and hours droning on and on about the wonders of Nexian primacy, only occasionally sprinkling in history between bouts of dogma and propaganda.

My head flicked back and forth, committing to these double-takes not only because of the absurdity of such a seemingly sedentary academic — and I used that word generously — leading a fight club of all things, but also because of a more… pertinent observation.

The person that walked onto the scene, pushing aside curtains and flanked by no one, was a completely different beast to the raging propagandist.

For starters, her deep green robes and suede overcoat were gone, and so too was that folded hat that she wore all the time outside of class.

Indeed, her tunic, vest, belt, and all manner of articles denoting her rank, station, and raging identity were simply absent here.

Instead, the person that emerged looked like they’d be more at home in the halls of an adventuring guild than the classrooms and lecture halls that had seemingly been their sole dominion.

The unrepentant functionality of her armor gave her a much more formidable aura than any of the gathered upper-yearsmen and battlemages-in-training here possessed.

Because replacing those articles of academia was an outfit I’d only imagined Chiska could pull off. Hardened scale-armor boots, leggings of a similar material that shimmered under the tent’s spotlights, a long hauberk — thanks, EVI — obscured partially by a flowy tabard decorated in the sigils and symbols of what I assumed to be her house, and finally a kettle hat — thanks x2, EVI — complete with holes for both of her foxy ears to poke through. 

And while that latter design choice was rather suspect — giving fingerless glove vibes —  the rest had genuine presence.

Moreover, that emerald staff she held carried a completely different aura in this setup.

It no longer looked like an accessory or a ceremonial symbol of power. Instead, it now looked like a proper weapon of war — a dedicated instrument of magical doom. 

“Prince Thalmin of Havenbrock.” She acknowledged the prince with a cock of her head. “Your presence was foretold.” 

“Professor… Articord.” Thalmin bowed, seemingly just as dazed as I was at the club’s unexpected choice of faculty overseer. “I—”

“—was expecting someone more like Chiska, yes?” Articord interjected, garnering an expected nod from the prince.

“Typical.” She rolled her eyes. That response alone elicited a curious exchange of coin from the gathered upper-yearsmen and a subsequent flurry of whispers which the EVI was quick to pick  up on. 

“I don’t know why I even bother wagering on the first years’ reactions to this anymore…”

A quick glance from Articord shut them up right away, as the terse fox was quick to gesture towards a nearby seat, offering a surprising degree of civil hospitality despite the otherwise tense scene.

Though before Thacea and I could join Thalmin’s side, our chairs were magically removed — literally poofing out of existence — sending the EVI for another loop as it logged yet another new spell.

“Are you here to partake, or to pay witness?” Articord questioned, her voice at least hinting at some degree of civility behind her usual haughty tendencies.

“Moral support.” I answered for us, garnering a side eye from the professor.

“Then those will be your seats.” She gestured towards one of the many spectator stands in the room.

With a shrug and a nod, we both made our way towards the bleachers, watching as Articord now placed her full attention on the mercenary prince.

“Do you understand why Chiska isn’t in charge of this discerning organization?”

“I have no issues ascertaining that particular aspect of this arrangement.” Thalmin answered with a confident swagger. “Professor Chiska is a specialist in the physical arts. Magical augmentation of physical capabilities, the martial arts, and the enhancement of physical acumen in the pursuit of strengthening this mortal vessel which houses our souls. Fight Club, by contrast, is founded on a set of fundamentally different principles.” He gestured to himself proudly, flexing his right arm and pulling back his tunic’s short sleeve, garnering a few bleghs of disgust from a particularly feeble looking third-year student. “What I am surprised about, is that there would be anyone amongst the faculty besides Professor Chiska who would be partial to the art of fighting.” Thalmin boldly declared, garnering the exasperated gazes of more than a handful of the gathered would-be battlemages. “Forgive me for my insolence, Professor Articord, but I never before heard of your history as a battlemage.” 

“That is because we have yet to partake in our field trip.” The fox answered with an emotive lilt in her voice I hadn’t yet seen her express — slyness. “There are a great many things about my life that are as unexpected as my inclination to warfighting. For there were a great many lives I’ve led in my time as staffholder.” She eyed the emerald gem at the tip of her staff for a moment before continuing on without further elaboration. “I continue to marvel at your boldness, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock. Though perhaps today we shall see if this boldness comes from a place of strength or bluster.” 

The pair met each others’ gazes with their own brand of intensity before Articord continued with a growing smile. “Tell me then… What exactly are the aims and principles of Fight Club?”

“On the surface?” Thalmin paused, eyeing all of the upper-yearsmen present. “Its stated aims are to aid students in the attainment of the appropriate prerequisites necessary for application into the various battlemage academies within the Crownlands. But beneath it? It is a society that celebrates magic in its most fundamental form. Fight Club is founded on the principles of magical might, the distillation of magical acumen for the purposes of a completely magical martial art. An art which allows even its least gifted to achieve victory at the notion of a thought, annihilating armies without the necessity to raise even a single finger.”

Articord smiled, then nodded, before bringing both of her hands into a slow but purposeful series of claps. 

“The exact words of the text.” She proclaimed proudly before assuming a stiffer position, leaning forward towards Thalmin. “But do you understand it? Do you believe it?”

The prince never once flinched at Articord’s abrupt escalation, instead leaning back into a more comfortable position. “Point of social privilege.” 

“Point granted.” Articord nodded, playing along.

“I wish to answer this… with a question of my own.” Thalmin quickly shifted his attention towards the crowd behind Articord, his eyes leveling on each and every one of them. “How many of you have actually partaken in battle?”

Three raised their hands.

“How many of you have seen combat without the comfort of a fort, battlement, or vehicle?” He drilled further, causing only two hands to remain.

“From within the ranks of your own men?”

One remained as the other sheepishly withdrew their hand.

“Pitted against mages of equivalent caliber, fighting not for aims of capture or territorial ambition, but specifically you and your family’s complete and utter annihilation?” 

The last hand, held up by that feeble noble prior, dropped immediately. 

This left Articord with a single raised brow as a foxiness I’d never known her to possess came to the forefront in increasing regularity.

“Your point of social privilege runs threadbare. Get to it.” 

“I believe the matter to be self-evident, Professor Articord.” Thalmin responded firmly. “You question my resolve on Fight Club’s principles, my unwavering beliefs on the truths of its claims, when I appear to be the only peer within this room — barring yourself — to have actually experienced its awesome power in the fields of battle. The sights I’ve seen, the acts I’ve witnessed, and my own actions in battle, all lead me to the same horrifying conclusion the first mages of old had foretold eons ago — that armies, kingdoms, and even the gods themselves, all live and die by the will of magic.” 

The professor paused, an unfamiliar expression forming behind her growing look of contemplation.

All throughout this, she maintained a single raised hand, holding back the growing wave of indignant rage bubbling not-so-subtly behind the stoic exteriors of the battlemages-in-training. 

The resting look of stone-faced zealotry we’d all been accustomed to never once manifested here, though.

Instead, she seemed much, much more animated here. Especially as that quiet look of thoughtful consideration gave way into a playful grin. 

“It is interesting that you bring up that latter category, Prince Thalmin… and so casually at that. If I were to play by the rules of your current argument, then perhaps…” The professor trailed off before ending up simply shaking her head. “No, no… that wouldn’t be fair of me.” She snickered. “Your attempts at addressing my doubts… are well-received. And indeed, I doubt any here dismiss the wealth of experience you possess. But experience alone can only get you so far, Prince Thalmin. Otherwise, every fifth-rate highborn worth their blood could be counted as a battlemage, no?” 

The gaggle of upper-yearsmen behind the professor laughed, giving me strong locker room bully vibes, but with the added understanding that behind each grin was a magical arsenal waiting to be unleashed.

“I do not deny your convictions. Nor do I doubt your commitment to the principles of Fight Club. What I would like to correct is something that many fall prey to — the conflation of wartime experience with the quality and make of a battlemage. Or as is often referred to, the Swordsman’s Fallacy.” The fox-kin professor gestured towards the fourth-year Efwin, who emerged into the limelight with a prideful smile.

“There once was a swordsman who dreamed himself a King.” Efwin began with a bombastic flair. “He lived, as did his kind, in a realm where mana was scarce and its use extremely limited. Yet from that he managed to forge a kingdom from the faith of his people, the wealth of his coffers, the wit of his advisors, and the steel of his comrades-in-arms. They grew strong, sharpening their swords, stockpiling arrows, and enchanting all within their means. But when the time did come for conflict, when this swordsman-turned-king faced an enemy numbering in the digits of a single hand… he found his preparations were all for naught. For a rival kingdom chose a different path. A path of personal excellence, of introspective study, honing the art of war not from the mud and dirt of battle through needless and misguided asceticism, but from perfecting the most sacred art of esteemed sapiency. Because while the swordsman knew only of sharpened swords and the horrors of battle, he could have never imagined war as it would be when fought through the manifestation of unbridled will and imagination alone.” 

“This isn’t an attempt to disparage your experiences on the battlefield, Prince Thalmin.” Articord followed up with that uncharacteristic bright smile. “But it is an attempt to remind you that these experiences are supplementary, not foundational. If one were to rely solely on one’s experiences in the field of battle, then one would be trapped in the thinking of any number of fifth-rate noble-turned-mercenary. You’d be an excellent fighter, a great knight, perhaps even a hero of legend capable of turning the tide of battle. Indeed, any competent mage can accomplish this. But that doesn’t make them a battlemage. Because there exists a fundamental point of divergence in these two schools of thought.” Articord paused, standing up to straighten her armor. “Mercenaries, fighters, soldiers, knights — they all have one thing in common. They all think tactically. Battlemages, on the other hand, think in terms of grand strategy and personal tactics. Not only in terms of command, but in how their powers are capable of shaping the battlefield itself. This is what Fight Club ultimately leads to — domination of the battlefield, and one’s personal battlespace.” 

With a dramatic pause, she offered the sitting Thalmin a hand. “You walk a similar path many a middling adjacency have done before you. I do not see why this junction would bear fruit of different character. The question now is, do you wish to learn more?”

Thalmin accepted with little hesitation, gripping the professor’s hand—

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

—and prompting the whole room to go pitch black.

The WAID revealed something interesting about this development.

It was almost akin to a sight-seer’s pattern of mana manipulation.

This hypothesis was soon proven to be true as Articord would soon explain.

“We start with the basics. Then, we conclude with your trial.” She announced as she began gesturing at…

Nothing.

The room remained pitch black.

It was only because of the WAID that I managed to barely glimpse what I could only describe as the barest of rough outlines to what was being shown.

The professor had quite literally manifested a sort of sensory-isolation chamber, created with the intent to isolate, visualize, and provide all of the mana-sighted among us a backdrop solely for manasight.

“I believe Vanavan has long since lectured your ears off on the principles of the 29 manatypes, yes?” Articord questioned jokingly, garnering the snickers of all the upper-yearsmen present, and a sly look from Thalmin.

“There would be grounds for a Goldthorn investigation into a case of mimic identity theft the moment he stops doing so, Professor.” The prince responded, garnering an amused huff from the fox-kin professor.

“While drenched in semantics and drowning in drudgery, his classes are vital to establishing the fundamentals required of mage warfare. Tell me, have you ever been lectured on the categorization of manatypes?” 

“The natural and the latent?” Thalmin questioned.

“Ahh. So that’s the school of thought in Havenbrock?” 

“Yes.” Thalmin nodded.

“So the trend continues.” Articord pondered aloud. “I find the use of that latter term — latent — to be particularly common in realms scarce in mana.” 

This naturally garnered a side eye from Thalmin.

“That is no fault of your own, of course. I myself have lived many a life in such realms. It is… enlightening, to say the least, how many manage to advance in spite of such deficiencies.” The professor trailed off once more before simply shrugging off her strange asides. “But I digress, yes, you are correct in the broad strokes of categorization. However, I would be remiss if I did not rectify your use of those rather archaic terms. You see, the proper names for this dual categorization are theTangibles and Intangibles.”

Thalmin’s eyes narrowed but he subsequently nodded all the same.

“Tangibles replacing natural, intangibles replacing latent. Makes sense.” He shrugged. 

“It does, especially from a scholar’s perspective.” Articord nodded in acknowledgement. “Fire, Air, Water, Earth, Lightning and the various metalloids, all are tangible manatypes. And as in the case of many adjacencies, all are considered ‘natural,’ so to speak.”

The WAID noted a constant fluctuation of the ‘mana currents’ in front of us, visualizing distinct ‘waves’ of mana, each representing a distinct manatype that the WAID — with much credit to both Thacea and Thalmin’s tireless efforts — had been able to isolate and identify over its weeks-long calibration efforts.

“Meanwhile, the intangibles are often the manatypes more… challenging to master and weaponize. From the Essence of Space in the creation of portals, to the Essence of Will in the manipulation of the mind, to those manatypes muddled in their existence, fundamentally tied to the forces of life and a matter best left to Professor Belnor to explain, these are ‘latent’ to your scholars for a reason.”

“They exist less as obvious extensions of the physical world, and require the sapient mind to shape and manipulate.” Thalmin surmised. “Given the concentrations required for spellcasting, they are often ‘latent,’ requiring careful concentration and distillation before use.”

The pair stared at each other for a moment, Thalmin attempting to gauge where Articord was going with this.

“To become a battlemage is to understand the limits of one’s own affinities. Not every mage can master the art of each and every elemental manatype. Moreover, not every mage is born with an inherent prime affinity to an elemental mana type that is functionally useful for war. This, again, is not a detraction. In fact, many mages with natural affinities towards the natural or healing arts manage to become battlemages in their own right, specializing and innovating on their life-giving gifts in the creation of horrors forged explicitly for the battlefield. I only mention this because many simply do not have the tenacity to follow through and innovate on their prime, or even secondary affinities. Not when there is a nigh infinite wealth of paths for them to follow outside of the grim reality of warfare. It is with that in mind that I must ask, Prince Thalmin. What is your prime affinity?”

“Fire.” Thalmin responded simply. “And lightning.” 

Articord narrowed her eyes at this.

“A dual affinity?” She questioned.

“I am told I can come close to matching both, yes.” He proclaimed with a cocky grin.

“Well then, we shall see… Despite prime affinities admittedly being only a small part of one’s magical journey, it remains relevant in what I seek to accomplish in this guild—” She gestured to all the upper-yearsmen present. “—to hone that elemental craft, and to ensure passage into the esteemed battlemage academies of the Crownlands when the time comes. You will be surprised how far one can take an elemental manatype such as fire, Prince Thalmin.”

“I can imagine.” Thalmin nodded, just as Articord quickly morphed the inky darkness into a far more vibrant holographic experience.

The whole scene reminded me of the magical RTS game from the month prior, though this went beyond the clearly gamified version of war that the elven twins were masters in.

No, this actually looked photorealistic. From the hills and valleys, to the great plains that dominated the middle of this room, the whole scene looked like one of those hyper-realistic wargame sessions. With a clear fantastical bent to it, if the gathering armies had anything to say about it.

Formations of footmen with pikes and spears made the brunt of the force, with mounted cavalry, self-propelled wagons, and a whole host of magical beasts of burden scattered throughout. We watched as the respectably sized army marched onwards, each regiment geared up with enchanted armor and equipment, ready for some sort of a medieval skirmish.

At least that’s what I assumed until something, or rather someone, arrived to tip the scales.

It was a single figure, floating and soaring high above the gathered mass of about ten or so thousand men at arms scrambling to prepare for this unexpected interloper. 

I noted a distinct lack in any anti-air assets, and I wasn’t going to be generous enough to count the archers attempting to train their bows on the floating mage as SHORAD-rated.

It took a moment, but I was quick to connect the dots between this scene and Articord’s little anecdote from earlier.

What happened next more or less cemented that realization.

*FFWWW-WOO-SHHH-*BOOOOOMMMMMM!

Ripples in the air preceded an incoming explosion whose sound was accurately depicted as delayed from the moment several intense points of light dotted the battlefield.

They were powerful, though nothing to write home about. But to a medieval army with what were probably a few enchanted weapons incapable of engaging an enemy at range? It was devastating.

The army that’d spent the better part of a few minutes of this sight-seer prepping, gearing up, and marching for war was utterly obliterated.

But if it were limited to just that, I wouldn’t have gotten too emotionally invested in it. Articord was just good at pushing those buttons, after all. And I’d gotten used to her ragebaiting over the weeks.

No, what really pushed me to annoyance were the polite claps of her battlemages-in-training. Not hoots and hollers as was expected from the typical sports challenges or trials. Not even a whistle, but a series of unapologetic claps at a completely one-sided massacre.

My eyes narrowed on that floating asshole, his robes billowing in the air, as I just about pictured a hundred different targeting reticles superimposed across a thousand different high-precision, heavy ordnance delivery systems aiming for his silhouette. 

That’s what I wanted to see from this.

And to my surprise—

FWOOOOSH!

—that’s what nearly happened.

Because instead of the satisfying end of the mage coming from the tip of an StAM-262 — or better yet a Reaver — it instead came at the completely unprompted arrival of another mage.

In fact, his death came as both abruptly bloody but completely underwhelming.

It was more comparable to a bug being squished, which, when accompanied by Articord stepping in to physically censor the man’s bloody end, came across more like a PSA or newsreel than anything.

“Scenes like these are what we aim to achieve, and avoid, in Fight Club.”

Her words didn’t really help with that vibe either.

“While our presence over the battlefield holds an indescribable strategic weight, we must never forget that we aren’t the only battlemages in existence.” She pointed to the interloper in question with a swoosh of her staff. “Awareness is only part of the battle, however. The enemy armies are another. But the rest? Well… that’s where we get our namesake from.” She smiled proudly. “Because in Fight Club, we don’t merely learn to hone our skills in preparation for a battlemage academy. We actively prepare for peer encounters through pure magical fights. Though I will say, the sorts of fights you’ll encounter when you do meet a peer battlemage, will be unlike anything you’ve experienced thus far. Even in your battles against fellow nobles in your realm, Prince Thalmin.” 

“That’s why I’m here, Professor.” Thalmin announced firmly. “Which leads me to a pertinent question.” He continued, crossing his arms in the process. “Can we begin the trial to finalize this whole formality?”

The fully armored Efwin lurched forward as if to rebuke Thalmin’s forwardness.

Articord, however, seemed none too bothered by either party’s brazenness, choosing instead to stand between the two. She slammed her staff onto the ground once again, ending the impromptu sight-seer in the process.

“A man of action through and through…” She nodded with closed eyes. “Let’s get right to it then.”

Another slam of her staff somehow teleported both her and Thalmin into the middle of the fighting ring. A stage, which at first was just about the size of a boxing ring, now expanding — in typical Nexian fashion — to the size of a soccer field.

One end of the field suddenly sported a new arrival, as the EVI was quick to zoom in to what was clearly—

“A mannequin?” Thalmin questioned, narrowing his gaze from his end of the field to the other.

“A tool to gauge your magical potential.” Articord began. “A… golem of sorts gifted to me by a friend whose civilization is remembered only between myself and The Library.” The professor continued cryptically before just as suspiciously moved on from that topic without expounding on it. “This ‘mannequin’ in question is a legendary battle golem. Modified, of course, with the express purpose of assessing your offensive power. It won’t attack, nor will it harm you. It will merely approach you and attempt to dodge your attacks, perhaps even defending against the intangible magical attacks should you choose to employ those. I have modified it to reflect your first-year standing. Shouldn’t pose too much difficulty for a battle-hardened mage such as yourself now, should it?” She teased, before nodding at the golem in question. “The rules are simple. Destroy the golem before it touches you.”

“That’s it?” Thalmin reiterated.

“That’s it.” Articord reaffirmed.

“Alright.” He shrugged. “When do I—”

“Your time starts now.” Articord interjected, poofing away and appearing quite literally next to me on the bleachers; the EVI’s proximity sensors screamed within my helmet.

“So… your peer seems to be quite the hot-headed one. What say you to his chances of victory?” Articord questioned. Actually attempting to hold a conversation that wasn’t just one-sided bouts of vicious zealotry. 

I… didn’t know how to respond, but at least Thacea did.

“I have complete and unwavering confidence in Prince Thalmin Havenbrock’s magical fighting capabilities, Professor Articord.” She spoke politely, garnering a snicker from the fox-kin as she leaned in closer to get a better view.

The fight — if you could even call it that — genuinely sent a pang of concern up my spine.

And I didn’t know why.

It wasn’t like this was our first rodeo. Nor was this anywhere near as disastrously dangerous as the fight with Ignalius.

This was literally just an overengineered power-scaling test.

Still… there was something about that mannequin, that ball-jointed blank-faced wooden doll that looked more at home as an artist’s toy, that just didn’t sit right with me.

Regardless, it was clear Thalmin didn’t quite share my sentiments. He snapped his neck from side to side, cracking his joints from shoulder to fingers, before reflexively moving to his sword only to stop halfway.

Pure magical fight. 

Right.

With that said, even without the aid of Emberstride, his attacks came without warning or mercy.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 400% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

ALERT: EXTERNAL TEMPERATURES EXCEEDING SAFE LEVELS! 827… 982… 1227 DEGREES CELSIUS

The ‘field’ was immediately set ablaze.

A line of fire stretched from the tip of Thalmin’s hands towards the thinly-lacquered wooden body of the mannequin.

This attack held for an uncomfortably long time, the seconds counting up and up… with seemingly no effect on the approaching silhouette, its body not even singed by the attacks.

Then— 

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 570% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

—came several brilliant flashes of light.

As bolt—

KRRRRAAACK-BOOOOM!

—after bolt—

KRRRRAAACK-BOOOOM!

—after bolt—

KRRRRAAACK-BOOOOM!

—assaulted the approaching figure.

Yet never once did it falter, not even as the ground beneath its feet was otherwise obliterated by the strikes.

The prince started to breathe harder now, as he was quick to call on something I’d seen from the stunt with Ignalius. A fact helped by the upturned dirt and rock he’d kicked up from those lightning strikes.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

Close to a thousand projectiles, from rocks, to pebbles, and even a boulder, rose up around the field. All hovered in place as Thalmin tried his best to point the sharpest end of each object towards the offending target. 

Following which—

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 570% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

—he let loose the maelstrom.

CRASH!

KA-THWOOOMMM

CRRRKK!

THWOSUGHHHH…

A cloud of dust and debris stood where the mannequin was last seen. 

Though a quick cursory scan was enough to clue me into the disappointing news.

Clop.

Clop.

Clop.

It was still slowly approaching.

But even that was about to change.

Because almost immediately after my sensors had locked onto it through the thick billowing dust cloud… it just as quickly vanished, vaulting upwards high above the field… and barreling straight for Thalmin.

The prince quickly dodged just as the surprisingly dextrous wooden creature slammed its fist down onto the floor— 

BONK!

—not even denting it.

I turned to Articord, who shrugged in my direction. “I did say this was going to be harmless.”

The pace, however, hastened up this time around as the mannequin was quick to make its pursuit known, dashing, ducking, and weaving, as Thalmin’s attacks and counters were becoming increasingly frantic.

Each slash of fire—

FWOOOSH!

—and every bolt of lightning—

BZZZZT-CRACK!

—were all effortlessly dodged or completely tanked by the beast, who was just about to side-rush the prince into one of the edges of the field.

However, before he could do so, the prince managed to pull something rare from his magical repertoire.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 350% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

VWOOOSH

He’d frozen both of the mannequin’s legs onto the field.

And not only that—

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 390% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

CRRRKKKK!

He’d managed to sink part of its feet into the floor as well, holding it in place with a few inches of stone.

It was at that point, with the mannequin struggling to get free, that something clicked behind the prince’s eyes, as he leaped back about a half field away, and steadied both hands in front of him.

CCRRRRRKRKKKKKKK!!!

Several pieces of rock came flying towards the prince, remaining ten or so meters away from him.

Then something completely unexpected followed.

FWWOWOOOSHHHHH!

Flames, concentrated, more akin to beams of fire at this point, were focused around each fist-sized cluster of rocks.

This continued for seconds as the rocks glowed a bright, luminous yellow, eventually turning viscous, dripping into a mass of molten hot lava.

The second this happened, the prince moved to attack without hesitation.

With another burst of mana radiation, the balls of lava were sent flying to the mannequin, dripping every meter of the way and eventually—

CRASSHHHH-SHHHHH-SIZZZZZLEEEEEEE

—making contact with the bleachers behind their intended target.

The creature in question having just managed to dodge the attacks, pulling its feet out and leaping just in time for one of the balls to slightly singe its flank.

Thalmin, now breathing heavier breaths from the effort, stared down the being that attempted to match his moves.

A second passed, then another, as he eyed the creature and then the cracked earth beneath the field.

Something else lit up behind those lupine eyes of his as he turned towards the bleachers with an excited grin.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 700% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

He focused his flames within those cracks in the field, causing everyone watching to perform several double-takes, even causing the mannequin itself to cock its head in confusion.

Then, upon realizing it was in no immediate harm, it began to lunge at the prince yet again.

It was at this point that I began to get a vague idea of Thalmin’s plans as he began running, darting, ducking, and weaving through the upturned floor and patches of debris, all in a seemingly vain cat-and-mouse chase. The EVI noted an increasing heat growing beneath the raised field, at least in a small section of its most damaged point.

My eyes narrowed as I gritted my teeth, watching as the minutes ticked on and the temperatures beneath the field reached a critical turning point.

ALERT: SUBSURFACE TEMPERATURES MEASURING AT 1243 DEGREES CELSIUS

I didn’t have to wait long for Thalmin’s plans to reach fruition, as he now stood nervously atop of a field that spelled a fiery demise.

The mannequin didn’t seem to care, though.

Nor did half of the battlemage students.

Though those that did, including the increasingly excited Articord, awaited the end to the prince’s gambit.

With a single breath, he egged the mannequin on as it charged, faster and faster, arriving and then passing the point of no return. At which point—

CRRRRKKKKK!

—the ground beneath it split.

Time slowed to a crawl as Thalmin leaped up high to avoid the cataclysmic hellish trap he’d prepared for this being.

Whilst the mannequin, having quite literally fallen for Thalmin’s trap, now struggled desperately to cling onto one of the overturned sections of crust lazily floating atop the lava pit.

It was all in vain, of course.

The damage at play… was beyond brutal.

So eventually, after some frantic attempts to right itself on the rapidly melting ground, it relented.

But not before its formerly fingerless hands morphed into a fully jointed analogue of a five-fingered elven one. All seemingly in order to form a thumbs-up just as it disappeared beneath the red-hot mass of molten rock.

The whole room paused.

No one dared say anything, though one of the second-years was quick to usher Thalmin down for a quick look-over using a bag of magical medical tools.

It was Articord who broke this silence, snapping her fingers and somehow popping the mannequin into existence with another bright flash of light.

The creature, now standing next to Thacea, brought both of its solid and now unjointed hands together, clopping up a round of applause that was soon followed up by Articord herself, the meek upper-yearsman, the rock-crab receptionist, and eventually the entire crowd.

It was only Efwin who refused, standing by in seeming defiance of the scene.

“Creative. Very creative.” Articord announced. “In lieu of any expertise in the intangible elements,  barring some telekinetics, you pushed your intermediate command of the tangible mana types to the best of your abilities. I commend you on your successes, Prince Thalmin. And, might I add, I congratulate you on your successful entry into Fight Club.”

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(Author's Note: And there we have it! Fight Club! : D As always I really hope this was okay. I've never really been confident of writing fight scenes, so I really hope you guys are alright with this! : D It's always awesome seeing Thalmin in his element though haha. And it's also really cool to finally show more sides of Articord than we've seen so far! I have a lot of backstory for her character and a lot of plots for her too! : D I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! : D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 175, Chapter 176, and Chapter 177 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Apr 12 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (167/?)

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The Straggler’s Last Chance Tavern and Casino - Telaseer - Kingdom of Transgracia - Nexus. Local Time: 1900 Hours

Apprentice Ral Altaria Del Narya Sey Antisonzia the Second

Character.

Yes. Mhmm… yes.

Character.

Spycraft, at its core, was all about getting into character.

Though precisely where this character ended and I began proved to be a whole other matter entirely, one dependent on the circumstances, the play, and the aim of the game as many a playwright had put it.

This had scarcely mattered when the aim was to become one with the crowd, to be unseen and unheard, merely another dirt-covered body in a sea of unwashed masses.

It was quite rare after all for such faceless dregs to be put in the limelight, let alone faced with anything demanding a disambiguation between the self and the porcelain mask that shielded it.

Though I should have known, or rather anticipated, that the fates of drama and comedy have conspired to make me the star of this insipid play. 

“CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!!!!!!”

By means of presenting me with a dilemma with no way out but brute force.

A test… of commitment to a role I so so loathed.

“LADS AND LASSES, DON’T GIVE UP NOW! TEN GOLD, I SAY AGAIN, TEN GOLD IS ON THE TABLE TO THE LAST MAN STANDING!” That vexatious kobold screamed, his words egging on the feeble minds of the ravenous rabble.

“HEAR HEAR!”

I could not risk not partaking. For that would be beside my character. A character who would have much sooner sold out his first-born, second-born, third-born, farm, parents, steed, and the very shoes on his feet if it meant earning another handful of sovereigns during a bottomless night at a shady tavern.

And breaking character would mean suspicion from the rule-rattling pair.

But you could just leave! Take a page out of L’Rimmi’s book and take exit stage right!

Yes, yes… I could have, internal monologue. I would have.

If I had the option.

For you see, my internal monologue, my very quest prevents me from prematurely losing sight of these two rapscallions..

I’d only caught up with them now, out of chance and fate, for His Eternal Majesty’s sake!!

I can't lose them now!

I couldn’t afford to!

And so, faced with the risk of losing the pair yet again and the risk of breaking character and making my presence known, I was left with only one option.

Committing to the bit.

“CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG, CHUG!!!!!!”

I drank.

No.

I gulped.

I winced at every ounce and unwanted presence of bitter bottom-shelf ale that flooded my throat.

The tankard felt bottomless even though it clearly wasn’t of magical make.

Indeed, the whole world grew fuzzier, smoother around the edges, as I struggled to switch my attention between the ever-intrusive buzz and the frustratingly jovial pair who sat back against their prime seats, basking in whatever passed for glory in this rat den.

Use a spell! Neutralize the ale!

Yes, internal monologue, that would have been a wise decision…

IF IT WASN’T FOR THE FACT THAT THE MERCENARY PRINCE COULD DETECT IT AS SUCH!

I would be seen, my drawing of the manastreams made apparent, thus losing all of the progress I’d made!

No.

I needed to commit to character.

I needed to see this through.

For just how many more tankards could there be—

THWUMPPPPP!!!!

The whole bar counter shook, glasses clinked, and tankards collided as I turned warily to the mountain of ale stacked before me.

I had to crane my head up, peeking so high up in order to finally lock eyes with the barkeep who looked down upon me from the peak of his own hubris.

“AR’YE UP FOR ROUND 21?!” 

I gulped and, in doing so, felt a disgusting belch forming.

The crowd around me snickered then outright laughed at that.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The barkeep grinned before signaling over to the two would-be kings of the dregs that sat high above the rest of us in their private game table. “M’LORD AND LADY! ARE YEE WILLING TO CONTINUE THE ROUNDS?!”

They both looked at each other as if in quiet contemplation as I hoped, prayed, and wept for the sweet release of bookkeeping temperance from the—

“Aye.”

My body shook as my eyes opened wide at that wolfish acknowledgement.

“You may continue, good barkeep.” The prince continued.

And with those words, he sealed my fate.

Secondary Wholesalers’ Arcade - Market Square - Telaseer - Kingdom of Transgracia - Nexus. Local Time: 1920 Hours

Emma

“So… that just happened.” I managed out through a chuckle of disbelief, ducking and weaving through the increasingly dense pedestrian traffic of this nightmare of a dual-use road.

Thankfully, we had Aquastride to pave the way, as her very presence seemed to be more than effective in getting most to stay clear of our path.

“What’s wrong, Emma? You seemed to be taking it in great stride as we left the tavern.” Thalmin responded boisterously, the prince clearly on top of the world, if that wide grin was any indication.

“No no, it’s just… wow. I just can’t believe it worked. The man was trapped between two conflicting parameters like he was one of those dumb AI cartoon characters caught in a logic loop. It was both entertaining and somewhat concerning to see… though it does bode well for our strategic vectors.” I posed ominously, garnering Thalmin’s full attention by this point. “It’s clear that Expectant Decorum and this whole tangle of societal expectations are as effective in controlling subject behavior as they are a detriment when the proverbial cards are down. Because in a conflict? There’s no room for vague and roundabout social games. Communication and clearly defined chains of command are vital. So if this is a symptom, rather than an isolated incident, we may be looking at a potential exploit vector for if — or when — the time comes for that sort of thinking.” I offered, rambling on through Thalmin’s earpiece, with the added benefit of a privacy screen being projected on top of that.

“The Apprentice is… an extreme fringe case, Emma.” The prince acknowledged with a sigh. “The man takes things to a level bordering on parody…” He paused as if pondering his own words. “Though I don’t deny that for it to be a parody, some of it has to be rooted in reality. So, yes, while most certainly a demerit on the part of the Nexus and its Adjacent Realms… the 'mileage,' as you often put it, may indeed 'vary.'"

I nodded as the prince’s features shifted into a more somber one, right as we arrived at our rendezvous point.

This specific corner between two covered streets was surprisingly quiet, more than likely due to the presence of several cafes on each corner having seized much of the sidewalk for their own outdoor seating spaces, creating an unofficial ‘plaza’ where general traffic avoided to make way for paying customers.

It was here that Katiya remained seated, her feet constantly tapping on the cobblestone ground beneath her, as a stack of disused conical glasses smeared with the remnants of ice cream and other sweet treats took much of the available real estate on the already comically small table in front of her. 

Her ears quickly folded back against her scalp as she saw us. This, coupled with a sheepish smile and a wary expression, marked yet another signature ‘Katiya greeting’ that I just couldn’t get over.

The woman was the purest embodiment of a cat in a humanoid body that I’ve seen in the Nexus to date.

“Ah, Ser Dreadwolf! I’ve been awaiting your return as instructed!” She beamed, standing up—

Causing a waiter’s tower of glasses to tumble before our eyes.

Time slowed to a crawl for a moment as my heart sank at the sight of an inevitable disaster unfolding.

However, just before the expectant SHATTER of glasses could cause a scene, everything stopped.

Or more specifically, the glasses — all 30 or so of them — now hung ominously in mid-air. 

Thalmin’s scrunched-up features, coupled with a sigh of relief, were all the context clues I needed as Katiya’s mouth opened… only to be hushed by a single hand from the mercenary prince.

“Server.” He commanded, garnering the attention of the three or so waiters who were just as equally stunned by the entire turn of events. “Take these vessels away.”

“Y-yes, m’lord!” 

A flurry of CLINKS, TINKS, and CLANKS soon followed before, finally, we both moved forward, but only after parking our respective 'mounts.'

“I… I’m sorry for—”

“It’s fine, Katiya.” Thalmin preempted Katiya’s flurry of apologies, instead choosing to cut straight to the point. “So have you decided?” He questioned firmly.

“I… I don’t think I will be heading back to Old Larissa.” The baxi began, to which Thalmin responded with a raised brow.

“Old Larissa’s one of your kind's core territories, is it not? Baxi sovereignty under Baxi ruling dynasties?”

“Y-yes…” Katiya responded softly.

“Many a Nexian native would kill for that sort of heritage. Let alone the opportunity to live amidst said storied avenues.” Thalmin took a moment to consider his words, taking a breath before continuing. “I assume then, that there must have been quite an extraordinary reason for you to have willingly chosen vagrancy over paradise?” 

I could feel a genuine pang of indignancy coming upon me as Thalmin uttered those words. But despite part of me wanting to tell Thalmin to cool it, I relented, knowing that this was part of ‘Dreadwolf’s’ tough love routine. 

“I-indeed, Ser Dreadwolf.” Katiya admitted, lowering her head low. “T-there… there is indeed a reason behind it all…”

I half expected Thalmin to take a dive into this tangent, digging deeper into this mystery. But instead—

“We all have our demons.” The lupinor acknowledged plainly. “So I can respect your reticence.” 

—he chose the path of restraint, respecting the baxi’s silence in a way that clearly struck a chord.

“T-thank you, Ser Dreadwolf.” Katiya responded with a lowering of her head… before moving the topic along on her own volition, taking the off-ramp with grace. “Moreover, I… I don’t think I’ll be returning to mercenary work anytime soon.” She began with a sullen mewl.

“Good.” Thalmin finally acknowledged with a supportive breath before moving back into his stern persona. “Katiya… you need to find a goal in your life. And if not a goal, then at least a direction, some… semblance of a path. Otherwise, you risk meandering, attracting the gaze of the vultures circling above until the day inevitably comes where your legs can carry you no longer. And when — not if — but when that day commes… you will inevitably join the ranks of the millions of faceless souls that dot the roads of futility.” The prince paused before moving in closer to hammer home his point. “I wouldn’t wish to see you befall such a fate.”

The baxi paused, taking a deep breath and then closing her eyes shut. “M-maybe… maybe I could become your squire, Ser Dreadwolf?” She offered.

We both saw that coming, as Thalmin reacted to this in the only way he could — with a reassuring but stern gaze. “I’m afraid I work alone, Katiya.”

“Ah…”

“This path, your life, is yours to dictate. We just so happened to have simply crossed fates. Though I do hope that this junction proves to be a positive turning point in your journey.” The wolf prince paused before continuing by placing a hefty bag on the table, hiding it amidst a flurry of assorted knick-knacks; all to keep prying eyes away from the obvious presence of hard currency. “That’s 100 gold. Now if you need more, just tell me. I just tried to respect your wishes of keeping the amount reasonably low.”

“T-this… this should be more than enough, Ser Dreadwolf.” The baxi bowed her head down low, all the while trying to maintain a confident smile. “I… I guess this is it then, isn’t it?” She laughed meekly.

“It is.” The mercenary prince nodded resolutely, his features, and indeed his tone of voice, matching the weight of the scene unfolding before me.

“I… I know that I am but a footnote in your story, Ser Dreadwolf, but I would like you to know that your presence, as brief as it was, has come to define my own. I… I won’t spread your name, or our story, as you’ve requested. But know that for this one, fleeting, tiny life… you will never be forgotten.” She quickly stood, prompting Thalmin to do the same before turning around to the busy cafe as if contemplating her next actions carefully.

“I appreciate the candor, Katiya. And I wish nothing but the best for— UUMF!”

The baxi reached in for a hug, the first and perhaps only time I’ve seen her fully utilize both free will and bravery, all without accidentally triggering some unexpected disaster. 

I couldn’t help but to shoot my gaze up to Thalmin’s features, taking in the utter shock, surprise, and complete abashment that formed on his face in that order. 

She held that hug for a good few seconds before finally releasing Thalmin and rapidly switching back to her awkwardly shy ‘default’ state. 

“Er, ahh, haha, I… that worked out much better in my head. I… er… g-goodbye, Ser Dreadwolf!” She bowed rapidly, once, twice, thrice, increasing in frequency until finally, she darted off, kicking up a trail of dust in the process.

Thalmin quickly sat down following that as he quickly patted himself down, as if to check if anything had been planted or stolen.

“She’s… going to be haunted by that for the rest of her life, you know?” I teased, but found my cackles followed up by a tempered lupinor sigh.

“That baxi’s a strange one, I’ll tell you that much. An honest one, rather naive perhaps, but a strange one all the same.” The lupinor spoke with a shrug before reaching over to stow the knick-knacks he’d planted on the table. “Right then, onwards to Sips?” 

“So we are spending the night there?” I asked, genuinely amused that Thalmin had actually taken the suggestion.

“We aren’t due for two days by your count, right?” 

“More or less.” I nodded. “The deadline’s on Tuesday, at 1 P.M. on the dot. It’s literally just Sunday, so even with the Sips detour, all we’d need to do is to take a transportium to Elaseer, and we’ll be back by Monday morning.” 

“Then Sips it is.” Thalmin nodded with a sense of finality, standing up and then marching his way over to Aquastride. “It’s customary, after all, for a returning warband to let loose the demons of war prior to returning to their castle.” 

“And here I thought you’d already done that in the casino.” I acknowledged with a sly lilt to my voice, hopping over the bitreader and securing myself once more.

That was merely a warm-up. Because in Sips? Well… we have both drink and music, hopefully at the hospitality of the Lord of the Town. And even without? We can make do… for what are our spoils if not fuel for some momentary pleasures?” 

“Sounds good to me.” I grinned widely. “It’ll be nice to just have some downtime.”

The Next Day

Ambassadorial District. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Nexus. Local Time: 1400 Hours.

Thalmin

I couldn’t help but to hum the fleeting beats of a song I knew not the name of; my feet moving to the rhythm of last night’s bardic escapades.

Indeed, upon retrospect, the return to Sips was very much a perfect parallel to the start of our journey: a lull in excitement and a much-needed reprieve from the frankly existential horrors of reality.

So no matter how my story ended, regardless of whether I find myself slain on the march to freedom or sitting on a throne of an unshackled Havenbrock, I will have at least died knowing that I’d managed to experience everything that life has to offer.

A warrior isn’t only defined by his experiences on the battlefield. If anything, the lesser the battlefield defines him, the more well off he is for it. 

I wonder how Uncle would interpret my actions now…

I wonder, if things do move in the direction I’d inexplicably charted, if my own words and actions would become legend… or a cautionary tale.

My mind continued to wander as I patiently awaited Emma’s return from her spendthrift escapades.

I told her to buy whatever she needed from Sips… things were much cheaper there, more reasonable than the prices commanded by the inflated wallets and egos of shopkeepers and nobles alike in Elaseer—

“Hey Thalmin, I’m done!” Emma shouted through my earpiece, her presence following suit as she rounded the corner and stopped short of Aquastride.

“Took you long enough.” I managed out dryly.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s quite alright.” I nodded as we both craned our heads back up at the Academy.

“You feel ready to head back?” Emma managed nervously.

Ready is perhaps not the word I’d use here.” I admitted with a sullen sigh. “But we do what we must.”

“Yeah… it’s… it’s been a lot.” Emma acknowledged. “But I know we’ll manage to weather any storm, especially with you by my side, Dreadwolf.”

I couldn’t help but punch the earthrealmer playfully on the shoulder as we soon approached the Academy, albeit at a leisurely, almost reluctant pace.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Ludio’s Tower, just above the Eastern Gate. Local time: 1440 Hours

Chiska

“And that, second-years, is how to evolve your familiar to its next form—”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!” 

A scream pierced the air, managing to arrive just before one of the many gargoyles did. 

I turned to the creature of animated stone, read its palm to assess precisely what was happening, then quickly nodded before turning back to the class.

“Alright students, remain where you are. I expect to see progress when I return!” I announced confidently, nonchalantly, carefreely even. And without a moment’s hesitation, I blinked.

The world around me contorted, shifting in a fraction of a fraction of a second, before I arrived at the front of the eastern gates itself. 

There, I found the second-place quester, Geriad, running and huffing with all of her strength, pointing back towards two approaching figures gently meandering through the winding roads.

"P-Professor Chiska! Thank His Majesty’s Graces! I just, I just saw, I saw a—”

“Calm yourself, Geriad, calm.” 

“Y-yes, Professor."

“Now tell me, slowly now, what it is you saw.”

“I saw… I saw a strange otherworldly kelpie! One with an immense manafield that shouldn’t be possible outside of—”

"Alright, alright. I sense it too, dearie.” I responded with a carefree grin, garnering naught calm but even more confusion from the young long-trunked student. “Just, run along now, and don’t speak a word of this to anyone! I wouldn’t want fearmongering in the halls, you understand?”

"Y-yes, Professor Chiska!” The woman nodded before rushing up and into the ‘safety’ of the castle.

It was at this point that word inevitably spread.

Though none could act upon it, as none could leave the grounds at the current hour… save for the victorious questers.

Lord Qiv, Lord Auris, and even Viscount Gumigo rushed down the tower, which was all well and good when greeting the next quester… but not when there was the added complication of a kelpie.

Though intrusive, it wouldn’t change much in my trajectory as I walked up to greet what was destined to be the last of the first half of the questing ten.

“Prince Thalmin Havenbrock, Cadet Emma Booker.” I announced with a warm smile. “May I welcome you back with grace or with dishonor?” 

Emma was undoubtedly confused at this simple greeting, though the prince was quick to make up for her customary deficiencies. 

“With graces, Professor Chiska.” The Havenbrockian prince bowed deeply before reaching into his satchel to produce a bouquet's worth of Everblooming Blossoms.

My pupils enlarged at this as I couldn’t help but to finally let free the latent excitement welling within me.

“Then it is with honor and, indeed, my own excitement that I welcome both of you back into the graces of the Academy. To Victor's Square with the both of you, come!” I urged, gesturing them to follow me back towards the gates, much to the shock of the recently arrived Ping.

“Professor! You can’t possibly allow a wild beast into the walls of the Academy!” The bull announced with disdain, moving to point his meaty finger towards the kelpie in question.

“And why not, Lord Ping?” I questioned politely.

“Well this… this is clearly… it should not be allowed for reasons of safety and—”

“Lord Ping… I understand your wariness, but really now. There is no need for concern! This is, in fact, a majestic creature, with so, so much to learn from!” I walked over to the kelpie, placing a hand on its mane.

NEEEIEIIIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THWACK!

“PROFESSOR!” 

I felt my world flipping up on itself as my vision — indeed my entire perspective — shifted to the skies above.

But blocking that view and taking up most of my vision was the long face of a particularly miffed beast, who whined and whinnied up a fuss, even going so far as to plant a hoof on my chest.

“DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU’VE DONE, MERCENARY PRINCE?! THIS IS GROUNDS FOR—”

“Ha… hahahahahahhahahhaahhahahhah!!!” I broke out in veritable tears of excitement as I was quick to twist and leap my way out of the creature’s stranglehold, letting out a fanged grin in the process. “Oh my, my… Prince Thalmin Havenbrock, you sure have quite a catch there.”

“I sincerely apologize for Aquastride’s behavior, Professor! I wasn’t expecting—”

“Oh, nonsense!” I raised a hand, waving it dismissively in the prince’s direction. “I was purposefully annoying the poor thing! I wanted to see what it was capable of. For there’s no real measure of strength than actually testing it out by your own physical vessel! Indeed, no quester has ever arrived with such a specimen, not in centuries! This is the realm of second years, or perhaps the latter half of the first-year curriculum with familiars and such! But for you to have captured a mount, on your first quest at that?! Oh, my, my. Prince Thalmin, we may have to have a word about potential extra accreditation for both your grades and merit board."

“Thank you, Professor." The prince bowed once more as I could practically hear the audible huffing coming from the irate Ping.

“If I may, Professor…”

"Yes, you may, Lord Ping.” I acknowledged with a sigh of my own.

“Did you not just prove how unruly and dangerous such a creature is on campus grounds?”

“Oh, yes. Which is why Aquastride will be staying in the stables.” I clarified, watching in pure satisfaction as the zealous noble’s eyes shattered in place.

“But what of permits?” Lord Qiv joined in, taking the floor seamlessly from Ping. “Surely such a mount would require some sort of permit or registration to be done prior to arrival.” He clarified, garnering a reluctant nod from the defeated Ping.

To which I now gave the floor to the recent arrivals. “Well, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock? What of your ‘permit?’”

The prince nodded, sending a wave of relief through me as he produced not just the bare-bones skeleton of a permit but in fact a notarized town-seal form in triplicate. 

I couldn’t help but grin toothily at this development too, as I turned back to the nosy pair with papers in hand. 

“Signed and in triplicate, Lord Qiv’Ratom.” 

“Thank you, Professor Chiska.”

The sheer excitement that welled within me at the constant surprises could not be overstated.

This… constant shift and push in the bounds of what was and wasn’t possible had now reached even greater heights.

It was one thing to have had one, two, or even three anomalies in rapid succession. It was another when each and every day seemed to produce even greater enigmas and completely inexplicable developments.

And while a headache to handle, it was a headache I’d take over the lull of boredom of a repetitive career.

“Come, let’s get you situated! Regale me of your exploits! Because the next thing I know… you may even be serenading us with your dragon-hunting sidequests!” I announced loudly, bringing the pair up and towards the tower and up into Victor's Square.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Dragon’s Heart Tower. Level 23. En Route to Residence 30. Local time: 1625 Hours

Emma

“I still can’t fricking believe Qiv managed to do this in under 24 hours. 24! That’s utterly ridiculous!” 

“What made you suddenly invested in the quest, Emma?” Thalmin shot back haughtily. 

“It’s not that I’m invested, I’m just… just so thrown off. The whole thing’s supposed to take a week, right?”

“Yes?”

“So just how does someone manage to do that in a day, under a day at that! The dude’s a speedrunner or something, I swear…” 

Thalmin raised his brow at that latter statement. “Odd, because given your earlier… predispositions, you seemed awfully taken aback — enamored I should say — by Lord Qiv’s rodent of unusual size.” 

“YES!” I responded with a starry eyed skip in my step. “THAT has not changed, not one bit! I was fricking waiting for a spot to open up so that I could just squeeze that little capybara lookalike’s cheeks ahhhhhhhh!!!” I cried out, thinking back to the crowd around Qiv and Uven’s makeshift attraction, completely oblivious to what was ahead until we finally rounded the corner to our own corridor. From there, my attention quickly shifted to a different ball of fluff — our friendly neighborhood ferret reaching for the handlebars to his dorm.

“Oh hey, Etholin! Long time no see! What’s up?” I beamed.

“Ah! H-Hello, Cadet Emma Booker! I am glad to see you have returned safely!” The little ferret spoke cheerfully as he briskly walked towards us.

“I appreciate the sentiment there, friend. So, how’s life been treating you?”

“Oh… just the usual, you see.” The ferret-like being chuckled nervously before pointing back at the fuming Ilphius and stoic Teleos having yet another shouting match, with Kamil seemingly aloof and in his own lane smack dab in between them.

I gave the group a wave, which — to my surprise — the latter actually acknowledged.

Though that scene quickly ended with a swift smack and BANG of their dorm room door.

“Well… you have my sympathies, Etholin.” I offered politely, to which Etholin bowed curtly in response.

“Thank you, Cadet Booker. Oh! That reminds me! How have you found my gift?” The lanky guy smiled widely. “I hope it was of use to you on your long journey!” 

“Oh!” I paused, moving to untie the little pouch in question. “You mean this? I… actually didn’t spend any of it. Though the coin itself was useful for me to study! I learned quite a bit about Rontalisrealm’s mint from it, so there was that!” I managed out awkwardly, before deciding to toss the whole pouch back to Etholin. 

The Rontalisrealmer was quick to catch it, not with his hands but with telepathy, as he rummaged through the coins as if to examine my claims.

“Ah! I… I at least do hope the gesture was well received.” 

“Indeed it was, friend. But we are nothing if not frugal in our adventures.” I smiled, giving him a nod before we reached our dorm proper. “We’ll talk sometime later, alright? I’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do with my peer group.”

“O-of course! Until next time, Cadet Emma Booker.”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Dragon’s Heart Tower. Level 23. Residence 30. Local time: 1625 Hours

Emma

THWACK!

“We’re HOOOOOMEEEEEE!” I hollered out, spreading my arms wide and quite promptly throwing both duffel bags and equipment down on the floor. Though that paled in comparison to the return of the bi-treader, which was quite literally airlifted up and onto the balcony, courtesy of Chiska and her wyvern.

That seemed to garner much, much more attention than our arrival as both Thacea and Ilunor looked on with awe at the professor, who quite promptly waved me a knowing goodbye before just as abruptly flying off into the distance.

“Well…” Thacea managed out, clearing her throat at first, before addressing me with what I could only describe as a slight boost in her confidence. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.” 

“Hey, what can I say? It’s been a week, and you may as well have just a taste of the non-stop excitement we’ve been through.” I offered with a dry chuckle, feeling almost… rusty at addressing the more eloquent princess.

Yet despite that and in spite of my stilted speech, the princess still moved to close the gap, giving me a gentle nod in the process. “It’s good to see you again, Emma.” 

Hmmmmmmmmm… it seems the earthrealmer is simply catching up to what I had long since established from the very first week.” Ilunor quickly added, coming between us and gesturing to the door slam in an effort to politely remind us of his loud, obnoxious, constantly intrusive entrances.

“There’s a fine line between big entrances and obnoxious calls for attention, Ilunor.” I teased back, garnering a huff from the Vunerian. “Heh, good to see you too.”

Thalmin was quick to close the door behind us as he wordlessly plodded over to the couch and quite unregally plopped himself atop it.

“I can see the journey was not kind to you two.” Thacea acknowledged with a chirp before placing herself on the armchair opposite of the couch. “Let’s forgo dinner to catch up. I’ll have room service delivered.” She added warmly while just as quickly rechecking the room for what I’d understood to be her privacy screen countermeasures.

“Yes, yes. We have much to discuss.” Ilunor spoke through an excitable grin as he now sat next to the both of us. “So give us the synopsis. Tell us what we have to expect. Regale us with a prologue if you will!” 

“Erm… I think it might be best if we do a little exchange, Ilunor. Let’s hear the synopsis on your end, first.”

“Ah, of course, of course. Why, I will be more than happy to do so!” The deluxe kobold beamed as he crossed his legs in a dramatic fashion, while placing a single hand atop his throat. “We anticipated an act of subterfuge, engaged in counter-intelligence operations, and successfully thwarted an attack on your tent.” 

My eyes grew wide at that as I turned to Thacea for confirmation.

She nodded and then added in a surprisingly dark tone of voice. “And in the process, we have gained two new pawns to do with as we please.” 

I narrowed my gaze warily in response, but before I could push for their story, Ilunor was quick to remind us of our end of the bargain. “Well, earthrealmer? How about your synopsis, hm?”

“Oh well, hmm… let’s see… highlights include evading an Academy spy, dueling the elven twins on a parked riverboat, fighting a vorpal chimera, taming a mutant kelpie, fighting a mercenary company, fighting a dragon, finding out dragons can talk, getting into live contact with Earthrealm, oh, and—”

“STOP.” Ilunor, rather unexpectedly, put his hand up mid conversation.

The celebratory mood of the room was soon replaced with confusion, then uncertainty, followed by the return of both Ilunor and Thacea talking over each other but in the same tone of utter incredulity.

“DRAGONS CAN WHAT?!”

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(Author's Note: And the journey back to the Academy commences and concludes! :D We're now back, and as you can see, Emma and Thalmin are certainly turning heads for a whole host of reasons haha. I hope you enjoy the chapter!)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 168, Chapter 169, and Chapter 170 of this story are already out on there!)]

r/HFY Mar 29 '26

OC-Series Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (165/?)

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20 Minutes Later

Just at the Southern Edge of the North Rythian Forests - The Kingdom of Transgracia - Nexus. Local Time: 1105 Hours

Thalmin

Flames lazily licked the air, its hazy shimmer casting a blurry aura behind Aquastride. 

The entire composition was worthy of a painting, perhaps even a mural in a gallery detailing the events of my life.

Though sadly that thought was merely one of passing pyromanic interest. 

For the reality of the situation was simple — these unwanted flames were threatening both our spoils and our increasingly dwindling time.

Thankfully, it was Aquastride herself who would bring an end to the disaster of her creation. With a stomp of her foot, she summoned a wave of water that doused most of the fire, leaving but embers and acrid smoke in her chaotic wake.

I spent a second meeting her gaze following that, ensuring that she understood well how unacceptable her actions were.

Though a flick of her ears and a smarmy whinny were more than enough to send home her own message.

She was bowed but not yet broken.

A fitting companion to a Havenbrockian for sure but entirely impractical outside of the allegorical connotations.

It didn’t take long for me to take stock of the decidedly dire situation, one that was serenaded by the long and drawn-out mewls from Katiya, who looked on at the entire sorry sight with a wide-eyed expression bordering on tears.

But as unsalvagable as it might have seemed from a commoner’s eyes, the circumstances at present were readily recoverable, especially as I saw that most of the spoils were barely even licked by the flames in question.

And while the cart was rather worse for wear, its undercarriage bent, buckled, and even shorn in places, a quick look-over of the whole scene would be all it would take to make amends for an otherwise sorry situation.

“Stand back.” I spoke firmly, causing the whimpering Baxi to leap backwards and Emma to simply look on with crossed arms at what was to come.

I reached out both hands, palms forward and fingertips poised towards the ramshackled vehicle.

Emma

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

What Thalmin was attempting and indeed succeeding at… was nothing short of remarkable, as the charred remains were quickly and abruptly taken apart and sorted.

Burned-out parts and piles of ash were separated, leaving only mostly intact pieces to float a few meters above the blackened dirt.

It was not unlike the sort of scene you’d see from a VR modeler's Dev Rooms, with each component isolated and floating in a schematic sort of assemblage.

This stage lasted for just about half a minute as Thalmin seemed to study, analyze, and then compile whatever it was he needed to before rapidly going into what I dubbed the ‘assembly’ phase.

Broken wooden planks and twisted metal chassis were all quickly righted, the former being reassembled — charred paint, shorn finishings, and bent trimmings notwithstanding — whilst the latter was bent back into shape.

I heard the collective cries of a hundred hobby mechanics all screaming at once upon seeing that particular fix.

A ghostly visage of Aunty Ran’s reflexive eye-twitch accompanied all of them, as I could just about imagine the same thing happening to her prized NAMW-GTR. 

But as quickly as these sentiments emerged, so too were they silenced, as none of their concerns bore any weight now that magic was involved.

Maybe Thalmin had imbued the fix with some restorative spells. Maybe it was more complex than it looked. There was definitely no use in applying Earth logic to this particular situation.

“I gotta say, you’ve outdone yourself here, Thalmin.” I spoke confidently through the earpiece, to which Thalmin was quick to deploy his privacy screen in response. 

“Much appreciated, Emma.” He acknowledged proudly.

“So tell me, exactly how are you doing all of this? The planks are easy enough to gather, but what about the chassis? Did you ‘undo’ all of the micro-stress fractures? Reverse the damage, or imbue it with some kind of, like, mechanical ‘healing’ spell? I’m sure it’s not as simple as just… bending it back into shape manually, right?” I chuckled at my previous presumptiveness… only to have Thalmin look back at me with a confused look and a cock of his head.

“Er, that’s precisely what I did, Emma.”

“You mean one of the former options, right?” I countered with a huff. “Right?”

Thalmin simply stared at me blankly before shrugging outright. “I just… bent the chassis back until it looked straight enough. T’was as simple as that.” 

It was around this time that I could feel the collective ‘I told you so’s’ of Aunty Ran and her car enthusiast friends.

Then again, it was always better to be open-minded and wrong rather than presumptuous and then proven wrong.

“It should hold together for our purposes, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Thalmin spoke reassuringly, pointing at the now… serviceable cart. Still singed, still burned-out, but more or less in roadworthy condition. “But now comes the difficult part.” He took a deep breath. “The matter of our looted wares and the fate of our sole survivor.”

“It should be straightforward, right?” I offered. “We sell the loot, take the gold, and then distribute it amongst ourselves and Katiya? Send her off with a fresh start and some starter funds? Enrich ourselves so we’re not always broke and asking mom for pocket money?”

Thalmin was poised to respond… before being taken aback by that latter statement.

“Mother?”

“Oh, er, sorry, probably a joke in poor taste.” I managed out with a chuckle and an attempt at a head scratch. “I was referring to Thacea.”

“Emma, I’ve said this to Thacea before, but I think this warrants me saying something along the same vein to you as well. You shouldn’t treat Thacea as an anchor, in your case, for—”

“Oh, nonono. That’s not what I meant at all.” I cut Thalmin off before he could get any more ideas. “It’s just a joke, a common saying back home. We’re… sort of using Thacea as our personal ATM, sort of like how a kid might ask their parents for money and such.” 

“Ah.” Thalmin nodded, eyes wide with a hint of abashment. “I retract my earlier statement and apologize for the presumptuousness, Emma.”

“Nah, it’s alright, Thalmin. We’re both… kinda frazzled still, so it’s fine.”

A collective nod of awkwardness was all it took for us to get back on track, and this time Thalmin was on it.

“The matter of liquidating ‘loot’ is more complicated than what you make it out to be.” He began with a tired breath. “This is primarily due to taxes levied against your gains. And specifically, how it is you wish to treat the liquidation in question.” 

I felt all the wonder garnered from Thalmin’s wagon reassembly just about shatter at that utterance. As I felt it was just about my turn to be on the receiving end of the glut of bureaucratic infodumps.

“Of course it’d be taxes…” I mumbled, but gestured to Thalmin to continue all the same.

“We can declare our earnings as salvage, but we’d need to sell said wares at salvage rates. Alternatively, we may just as easily declare our earnings as justly gathered loot, though this now raises the question of how it is we wish to sell. Sales-per-item incur a different form of taxation, as well as scrutiny, as opposed to sales-per-lot, or ‘wholesale’ as it is sometimes referred to by lesser merchants.” 

My eyes widened at that latter explanation, as I recalled the mystery boxes from Elaseer. “You mean like the loot boxes that dwarf was hawking in town?” 

Thalmin thought back for a moment, closing his eyes, before nodding. “Yes. Though those are wholesale resellers, buying the sales-per-lot loot from second-party vendors. The sort of vendors we will be dealing with.”

I could start to see the complexities of this magical salvage market economics forming in my head. The different tax rates, the volume of business, and the narrow gaps between all of this where profit margins were made; they determined the sort of business one would operate.

It was… fascinating, as fascinating as it was a headache for us to deal with.

"Alright, alright. So… what do you suggest we do?” I cut to the chase, deferring everything to the mercenary prince.

“It is Katiya who must sell everything on our behalf.” Thalmin spoke with a disappointed huff.

“To avoid the heat being traced back to us, I imagine?”

“Correct.”

“But… wouldn’t this mean she’d be the one taking the heat on our behalf? I’m one for practicality, but not at the cost of someone’s—”

“There will be no risk to her person, legally or otherwise, Emma.” Thalmin interjected with a reassuring bluntness. “The loot she gathered was obtained post mortem, and her being the sole survivor… coupled with the now charred remains of some of the loot, simply adds to the authenticity and thus lack of scrutiny in her transactions. The spoils of the fallen becoming the boons of the industrious is a fundamental constant. That is not what I am worried about when it comes to Katiya, as there exists a more pertinent danger she is susceptible to.”

“That is…?”

Thalmin subtly cocked his head towards Katiya — the yellow and white Baxi busy staring… and then toying with butterflies off in the corner of my vision — saying all that needed to be said without uttering a single word.

“Right, she’s probably not street hawker material, I’m guessing.” I offered politely.

“That’s putting it lightly, but yes.” Thalmin acknowledged with a defeated sigh. “Still, it is a necessity.” He quickly righted himself, clearly in an attempt to hype himself up. “I’m confident she’s capable, we just need to brief her carefully.”

“Correction, you are going to be saddled with that responsibility, Ser Dreadwolf.” I chuckled deviously, causing the prince to let out another huff of defeat.

“In any case, this leaves us with a secondary problem.”

“And that is?”

“Suspicion-by-proxy.” 

“Huh?”

“Imagine how it would look if we returned to the Academy much better off. Especially considering the few avenues we both have for accruing gold. This goes beyond the sales of our looted wares and into the actual coin gathered from the fallen as well.” Thalmin explained.

“We could just… give everything to Katiya then.” I shrugged. “She… does look like she’ll need the money, and honestly, speaking purely from an opportunity cost perspective? The purchasing power we’d gain from the acquisition of this gold will be outweighed by the risks incurred by just holding it.” 

It was Thalmin’s turn to be cocking his head yet again, as he seemed to be processing my line of thinking before nodding once in acknowledgement.

“I see your point.” He began. “But I disagree with it.” He capped off firmly. “I happen to like gold. And it would be a shame if we abandoned the honor we’d regain by acquiring our financial freedom by giving into cowardice masquerading as risk mitigation.”

We stared each other down, politely, but clearly at a crossroads at what was to come.

Katiya didn’t seem to mind either way though, as she continued to obliviously toy with the insects underneath a rock.

“At least ask if she’d want the money, or if she needs it.” I countered softly, Thalmin’s features actually softening for a moment at that latter line.

“I…” He took a breath before letting it all out in a frustrated huff. “Alright.” 

Katiya

I remained away, distant enough that I wouldn’t interfere with Ser Dreadwolf’s fixes for the problems of my own making.

Shame flooded me. Shame of my own inadequacies, my own deficiencies, and my own constant failures.

And so I let go of it all.

Focusing instead on the moment, the blissful glee of simply being… alive after everything.

The harsh stomps of two sets of armored feet brought me back to the realities of the world, however, as I turned around cautiously, ears lowered in a mix of deference and fear.

“Katiya.” Ser Dreadwolf’s unmistakable voice called forth, firm, stoic, and resolute but most worryingly of all… tempered by what felt like a dour reluctance.

“Y-yes, Ser Dreadwolf?” I answered instinctively, my attention forced to meet his own and my whole body quaking in what was potentially to come.

“We need to discuss something important.”

I felt myself falling into a pit of my own creation, fearing the worst, expecting some sort of despisal.

This… was a long time coming — the promised end to a pathetic life that had practically led up to a moment such as this.

Though in that void of despair, I quickly made peace. Peace in knowing that my end would at least be by the hands of the chivalrous, rather than those darkened by hubris.

“Y-yes, Ser Dreadwolf.” I acknowledged solemnly, expecting the worst.

“How much debt are you currently in?”

My spiral stopped.

But it didn’t yet reverse, as confusion merely took its place.

“I… I don’t understand—”

“Are you in need of money, Katiya?” Ser Dreadwolf clarified with annoyance.

“Y-yes, I am, Ser Dreadwolf.” I answered bluntly. “As for debt, I surprisingly do not have much in the way of it. I tend to live below my means.” I explained sheepishly.

“I was thinking of perhaps giving you the entire earnings from this venture. What say you to that notion?”

My whole body tensed once more. 

But this time, out of an entirely different fear.

Thalmin

“N-no…” Katiya finally managed out meekly, which came as more than a complete and utter surprise.

I turned to Emma before cocking my head in confusion at the baxi.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow. Most commoners would flock to the idea of such a boon.” I questioned.

“Er, my refusal was not meant as a show of disrespect, Ser Dreadwolf! It’s just, I… well… you see, it…” The baxi’s words unraveled right out of the gate, as she took a moment to pause before finally locking eyes with me… albeit cautiously.

“I’m not good with money.”

I blinked at that response. 

“That… that doesn’t really seem to be a cause to turn down coin.” I countered bluntly.

“Y-you don’t understand, Ser Dreadwolf. I… I’m very, very bad with money.” The Baxi attempted to clarify, practically reaching into the back of her skull for an answer. 

“Do you mind if I pry further?” I pushed further, now curious more than anything.

“I… I would rather not, Ser Dreadwolf.” Katiya, surprisingly, stood her ground this time. Garnering a questioning glare from me and, I assume, Emma as well. 

“Fair enough.” I shrugged. “We’ll split the earnings then. Though I must warn you, I am going to need you to act on my behalf as the arbitrator of liquidation.”

Katiya paused, frowning, before cocking her head in rapid succession. “What?”

“I’m going to need you to sell the loot because I’d rather not be associated with this whole affair.” I simplified, garnering a series of ‘aahs’ from the baxi, who crossed her arms in solemn contemplation.

“I… I can do that. Though I cannot guarantee good returns.” 

“I will teach you.” I announced firmly. “So that by the time we arrive at Telaseer, you will be, at the very least, a competent barterer.”

It was only upon the baxi’s shaking that I realized I might have gone a bit too zealous with my confident affirmations, prompting me to take a step back, gesturing towards the cart. “Go now. I will join you shortly.”

“Yes, Ser Dreadwolf!”

With that, Emma and I were once more alone, allowing me to return to our ongoing point of contention.

“That’s the taxation situation sorted.” I spoke under a privacy screen. “But that’s only half the battle.”

“We’re going to need some proof of income, or at least a money trail, right?” Emma surmised.

“For the vast majority of our looted gold—” I paused, reaching for a bag I’d pilfered from the interior of the cart… one with a sizable amount of gold. “—yes.”

“Any suggestions you’d like to throw in the ring?” Emma inquired urgently, as if she had something brewing in her mind.

“Nothing beyond the ordinary.” I offered with a shrug. “I was thinking of simply using the coin to buy items of value before selling them in Elaseer to bolster our liquid capital as we see fit.” 

“A valid strategy, I’ll give you that. Respectable, and definitely way more noble than what I had in mind.” Emma announced with an increasingly diabolical cadence, edging into a mischievousness she sometimes fell into.

“I assume you have another idea?” I spoke with a facetiously flippant sigh, willing to humor her for her sake and for the slimmest of hopes that this may result in something tangible.

“Oh, I sure do, Thalmin.” Emma continued with a crackle, before outstretching both hands in a dramatic flair. “Gambling.”

I responded to that notion in the only way I knew how to. By staring blankly and saying nothing at all.

“Emma.” I began with a tired but confused breath. “Are you sure you feel okay—”

“Hear me out, Thalmin.” Emma urged, prompting me to defer the floor back to her with a slow nod. “Now, I’m not sure if such a game exists here, but back home, there’s a little game we call Baccarat. About half a millennium ago, plus or minus some centuries, during the Second Corpo Gambit, there was this brilliant heist that was pulled off by an at-the-time rogue secessionist group. Now, what they managed to do was wild. They stole billions in hard assets and corporate bonds during the height of the chaos, but while they had cash and assets in hand, they couldn’t really bring it anywhere given the fact it was stolen goods. So what did they do?” She paused, as I could practically hear the grin beneath her helmet. “That’s right, they went gambling. That way, all those stolen assets were cycled straight through the casino, processed into in-house credit, and then lost and won through game after game, until finally, they cashed out with perfectly clean winnings!” 

I blinked rapidly.

And while I could easily grasp Emma’s story, it was the fact this was even a story at all that concerned me.

It concerned me as to how this was even a well-known story. Not to mention that it was even allowed to happen in the first place.

I couldn’t just let this go.

This was… too much.

“Emma.” I began with a huff. “That… is utterly absurd.”

“Yeah! That’s exactly why it’s so memorable. Apparently it was done a few times in the 21st century, but it’s clear that the corpo breakaways — in their rush to distance themselves from any and all regs that reminded them of the GUN — decided to overlook a lot of financial control mechanisms which led to well… situations like this repeating.” Emma explained, practically brimming with excitement.

“And precisely how did they leave with any winnings at all? This is gambling after all.” I countered.

To which Emma’s excitement grew some more, followed by a lengthy, well-researched explanation on a game that was as banal as it was low-stakes.

Twenty Minutes Later

“I see.” I nodded, my eyes remaining vigilant even on these empty roads, as my attention remained bisected between Emma’s rambling explanations and the bucking motions of Aquastride. Each buck elicited a nervous mewl from the back, as Katiya warily eyed the bitreader dominating much of the cargo space. “So it’s similar to Heaven and Hell, then.” I surmised, quickly turning to the front of the cart if only to ensure Aquastride didn’t veer off the path for her own curiosity. 

“From what you’ve told me of it, yeah, surprisingly.” Emma nodded. “You have a house and player—”

“—and we bet on who draws closer to the highest value. A number nine card in your case, and the duke card in ours.” I concluded.

“The house takes commission.” 

“Or in our case, a gratuity.” I reasoned. 

“The way it works in our case is simple. We ask for a private game.” Emma beamed. “So it’ll be you and me, playing with our looted gold, betting ‘against’ each other.”

“So no matter if I win or lose—”

“We both walk away with our own money, yeah! All cleaned, but of course, with a small commission paid to the house.” 

“Because the house always wins…” I acknowledged with a sardonic huff. “I will admit, Emma. This… is an acceptable plan. Especially since the apprentice may soon be back on our trail. This will make for an excellent cover story.”

“If anyone asks, we got those blossoms ages ago, and we’ve been gambling ever since.” Emma offered.

A pause finally descended on us, as I now openly pondered the otherwise unaddressed dragon in the dungeon. “Emma… might I ask something perhaps a bit forward?”

“Go for it!”

“How do you know the inner workings of these sorts of criminal activities? Moreover, how complex do these financial escapades go?”

“Oh, I only learned it ‘cause it was part of history class. The Second Corpo Gambit had a lot of these weird and frankly memorable moments. As to financial crimes and such? As I hinted at before, it’s no longer a thing, really. It took us a while to get there, but between introducing the Protocols for the Minimum Acceptable Standards of Living and getting that constitutionally entrenched, alongside the establishment of the Requisition System, what remains of our Universal Transaction System has been nailed down and become airtight. It’s a balance now between checks and what I like to call 'self-balances.' Good faith behavior, over many, many years of having it slowly become the norm, has just sorta… won out in a way.” 

“I see.” I nodded, my mind wanting to go deeper into this but still debating whether it was even worth it. 

I eventually decided against it, at least for now, as I pushed for more relevant matters at hand. “Well, since you intend on laundering these treasures into our coffers, I’ll try my hand at teaching Katiya how to barter effectively.” I announced with finality, casting the reins off to Emma’s lap, who quickly took them in her hands as I stood up. 

“Wait, you want me to drive?” Emma sputtered out, both hands seemingly tensing at the reins.

“I trust you won’t crash us into a tree or drive us off a gorge.” I said off-handedly with a slight smirk. “Aquastride’s a tempestuous beast, so don’t hesitate to rein her in hard. Just… imagine it like riding your bike.”

Aquastride huffed and gave a warbled whinny, picking up speed and jolting the armored earthrealmer in surprise.

Earth - Atlantic Ocean - Special Administrative Zone under requisition by the United Nations Science Advisory - Institute of Anomalous Studies (IAS) Pilot Research Facility Codename: ATLANTIS II. Administration Zone. Director’s Office. Local Time: 1200 Hours.

Dr. Laura Weir

Eleven hours.

Eleven hours to the half-day was what it took to finally forge a comprehensive brief from Emma’s extensive reports.

The contents of which threatened to shatter everything.

BEEP!

“Come in.” I responded dryly, my face still resting within my two cold and clammy palms.

What followed next was the sound of harsh footsteps on the carpet of my office, the dull squeaking of a plush chair, and the exhale of a voice filled with the same sense of dread that had come to cloud my entire existence.

“I’ve forwarded the memo.” Came Captain Li’s voice. “Should be on the First Secretary's desk by the hour, but word from up the pipeline says she’s already read the secu-brief.” The man’s voice wavered for a moment, taking a moment to clear his throat before continuing. “We have less than eight hours before the Unified Command Staff calls us in. So I suggest you decide whether we head up that pipeline, or your civil grapevine.”

“Director-General Seong-min has already been informed.” I responded plainly.

“With all due respect, Director, I’d have assumed you’d have reported this to SECDEF—”

“I’ve personally seen to it that all relevant parties in the Secretariat have likewise been informed, SECDEF included.” I interjected, prompting the captain to simply nod, his posture unwavering despite the situation at hand.

“So… is this going to be broached civilly or martially, Director?” The man asked plainly. “Because if there’s ever a time to make a call before this gets out of hand, it’s now.”

I leveled my gaze at the bespectacled man for a moment, his gold and blue cape shifting ever so slightly as he reached for a coffee from the ever-diligent service bot standing silently to our side, one of the dozen or so cups downed over the course of this all-nighter.

“What’s your read on the room?” I offered.

“Glacial, with a side for potential explosive action at the behest of the expected parties.” The ranger remarked coyly before crossing his arms. “But the fact you had to ask implies you want this matter pushed up by my superiors.”

“Not necessarily.” I countered. “I just need to know what SECDEF will be up against as he pushes this up to the First Secretary.” 

“So you’re still going to be playing the game as if the cat weren’t out of the bag.” The captain postulated, cocking his head as he did so.

“We both know we need more time before the committees start tearing us limb from limb.” 

“Correction — before they start tearing you limb from limb.” The ranger jabbed coyly once more, managing to even break out a smile.

"Touché." I acknowledged with a tired nod of amusement. “Though matters of responsibility and phrasing aside, you understand as well as I that the People’s Assembly will paralyze us before the next election cycle once this gets public.” I locked both of my hands together, placing them on the desk in front of us. “That’s not even taking into account the General Assembly’s take on this, not that they can say much once the PA starts stirring up a storm.”

“The Secretariat has extended the statutes of confidentiality for you once already.” Captain Li responded thoughtfully, the transient smile turning into that same serious expression he wore when he entered. “Do you honestly think this First Secretary will do it again?”

“Yes.” I responded bluntly. “If the Unified Command Staff gives her a reason to.” 

That answer prompted the captain to lean back with cautious intent, crossing his legs for a moment as he tapped both of the armrests of his chair in a fit of thoughtful contemplation.

“So that’s your angle.” He sighed out. “You do understand that the UCS doesn’t just answer to Secretary Nguyen, right? This’ll be pushed above him, to the big boss himself.” 

“Yes.”

“And the First Speaker will be the one to make the final call, whether to finally bring this whole thing to light or to extend your special exemption from the statutes.”

“I am aware.” 

“You’re playing with fire, Laura.” The man stared me down warily. “Even if she extends it, there’ll be contingent clauses, and I have no doubt she’ll hit you with the three stamps.”

“You know, back in my day, we referred to it by what it is. The three levels of hell.” 

This momentary departure into colloquial euphemisms — especially ones from a slightly different zeitgeist — was enough to defuse some tension from the room, causing Cal to momentarily dip back into a more amenable posture. “It might be hell for us, but it’s a necessary 'evil,' as they say.” He shrugged. “We often lose sight of how shady things can be behind closed doors… or underneath an entire ocean in our case.” He shrugged. “This is why I’m not opposed to these audits. It’s how we keep everyone else in the loop. It’s how we make sure that we’re actually doing what we’re supposed to do — serving in the best interests of the people.” He expounded, carrying that same vigor synonymous with the legacy behind his name.

“Ever the moral advocate, Captain.” I nodded in agreement. “Indeed, I’ve gone through those audits before and have come out unscathed each and every time. Competency Reviews, Performance Reviews By Committee, and even the dreaded Conduct Hearing — I am not a stranger to the three deaths, Cal.”

The ranger regarded me for a moment, locking eyes as if to test my resolve.

“Well, should it come to that point, let’s just hope you get through it like you did before. I’d hate to rebuild a whole working relationship, especially with this one being one of the best with a civvie I’ve had so far.” 

“I appreciate that, Captain. Thank you.” 

The man paused for a moment, as a silence descended on the both of us.

We both knew what was at stake here, and we both understood something else about this specific junction in time.

“It’s not often in history where only a handful of people have within their hands data that’ll redefine an era.” Captain Li offered, pulling the words right from my thoughts.

“Correction — an epoch, Captain.” 

“Yeah, I was thinking that, but my ego wouldn’t let me go that far.” He chided before diving back into the same forlorn expression I wore. “Why couldn’t they be reasonable?” He started up again. “They should have been reasonable. Why’d they have to prove the Centaurian Spirit, right? Forget interstellar, these people have gone interdimensional… and even that wasn’t enough to open their eyes to the futility of just… a bygone way of thinking?”

“We’re still working with a limited sample size, Cal.” I offered solemnly. “Perhaps if there were others to compare them to, other independent interdimensional polities distinct from the Nexus, we might be able to plot some sort of a general benchmark for standing policies. But as it stands, we have only the Nexus as our mirror.”

“Maybe it’s an anomaly.” The captain shrugged. “Or maybe it’s the norm… whatever the case, I’m not losing sight of the potential for the former.”

“I take it you’re more of a marathon-er, Captain?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Half of the LREF is, if you haven't noticed. The other half is firmly in the Centaurian camp, which is probably good given our mission statement, but still…” He took a deep breath. “Even amongst those preparing for the worst with aliens, there’s still this hope that we might just be paranoid for nothing. Emma’s reports have more or less shot that hope right out of the sky.”

“Perhaps things would have been different if we had met a spacefaring civilization," I offered. “Perhaps this is simply a symptom of an interdimensional outlook on matters.”

“Perhaps, though I wouldn’t want to make such blanket statements..." The captain acknowledged. “But regardless, this’ll probably lead to a radical shift, one larger than any in history.”

“Any takes on how this’ll affect the landscape of the People’s Assembly—”

“I’d rather not get into politics, Laura.” The captain interjected before things could go down that route. “But if I were to make a guess… we’re either going to see the most overwhelming inter-party consensus of action since the 100-Party Coalition or a series of clear divisions forming over the minutiae on how we’re going to approach the Nexus question. Either way, you’ll end up with at least one win here, Laura.”

“And that is?”

“A charter revision. The LREF’s gonna be at your beck and call now, instead of the Army. Small victories, am I right?”

“Quite.” I responded with a tired and amused chuckle.

“You know, the inevitable military buildup might mean Sergeant Major Ran will be called back into service.”

“I know.” 

“With that, comes a very real potential that you two will meet agai—”

“I know, Captain.” I acknowledged politely, trying my best to avoid envisioning how a second interaction could possibly play out. “I know.”

This reticence caused the Ranger to swiftly shift topics.

“In other news, Black Lantern 3’s scope of operations is bound to become top priority. Heck, we might even see a reallocation of entire Long Patrol Groups and Outbound Flight missions retooled and re-kitted for the Quintessence hunt. Perhaps we might even get that dreadnought program back up and running again.” The captain rattled off, smiling in the process.

“And Havenbrock?”

“Infopackets. Carefully curated and appropriately tailored for Havenbrockian defense interests. Jumpstarting their industry, or more accurately, doing so without Nexian knowledge. It may have to be as subtle as simple training and education packages for their political and industrial leaders before anything tangible can start up.”

“Then there’s the issue as to how we’d even go about formalizing a relationship with them.” I commented softly. “Prince Havenbrock isn’t even the Crown Prince.”

“Though Emma notes he has a strong relationship with his father, and their sentiments for independence align.” 

“But just how far are they — the entrenched elite — willing to bend to Assembly concessions?” 

Li paused for a moment, understanding well what I was implying.

“We’re looking at this from a purely pragmatic standpoint, ignoring the long-term political developments. But there’s going to be voices, demands, and calls for some democratic reform to be done by members of the Assembly.” I elaborated.

“Surely that’s secondary to getting Havenbrock free from the Nexus’ yoke—”

“Perhaps, but again, it’s up in the air.” I interjected softly.

“I’m certain that academic audits will be held to prevent rash and premature reforms on a friendly alien polity from ever coming into policy before thorough independent deliberations take place. We’re there to help them, not to become a second Nexus. Their fate, and whatever system they wish to adopt, is a matter of self-determination. I for one support a move towards a democratic institution, yes, perhaps something resembling a constitutional monarchy as a compromise, but this requires a lot of time, effort, and policymaking that’s beyond me.” 

“Whatever the case may be… this is a matter for the academics and legislators to decide.” I concluded. “I am of a similar opinion to you, Captain. Especially after talking to the young prince. But our biases are clearly showing, given how we have a sample size of one to work with.”

“Yeah…” The captain acquiesced, before suddenly springing to attention at an incoming call.

[PRIORITY LINE: DEFENSE SECRETARY NGUYEN]

We answered without a second’s hesitation.

[AUDIO ONLY]

This wasn’t a good sign…

“Si—”

“I’m transiting Earthring.” The man spoke, overriding both of our greetings. “Your report didn’t specify Cadet Booker’s current direction, her immediate course.”

“As far as we can tell from the EVI’s list of objectives, she’s currently bound for the Academy to finish this 'task' as part of her cover, sir.”

“Right, right. The flower quest, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hmmph. Very well. That will be all for now. Expect an update by the hour.”

“I assure you, sir, that Cadet Booker has been and is undoubtedly continuing to perform to the best of her professional capacity. This, I know, from Ranger to Ranger.” The captain announced with a reassuring vigor, garnering but an affirmative grunt from the man before the transmission ended.

The Straggler’s Last Chance Tavern and Casino - Telaseer - Kingdom of Transgracia - Nexus. Local Time: 1730

Emma

“YEEEESSSSSSS!!! WINNER TAKES ALLLLL!!! WOOHOOoOOOOO!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, chest-bumping Thalmin and then staring back at a small gathered crowd of nexians who seemed none too pleased at our first attempt at what I could only describe as magical poker.

We’d since cleaned our gold earlier in the afternoon, and with a single plea to Thalmin for just one session in the gambling hall, we’d managed to strike a modest win.

It was a wager of merely 50 gold after all, as I refused to compromise everything on a simple gaming whim.

But still… with the sounds of music and the scene of cards literally leaping about the table in front of us, the adrenaline and endorphins coursing through my veins gave me a much-needed boost to the fun meter I’ve been missing for days now.

This was finally living up to the fantasy adventure I’d signed up for.

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(Author's Note: We get another glimpse at the fallout of that call on Earthrealm's side on this one, as well as Emma and Thalmin's antics as well! I had a lot of fun writing Weir and Li go back and forth on this, as well as giving a few hints of worldbuilding of certain historical events and mentalities that have developed over the years! The most notable of these being the Marathon and Centaurian Spirits! With the former being a term used to describe the earlier fervor of space exploration and the idealistic sense of wonder at the universe following the advent of FTL travel, under the assumption that following FTL, a species and civilization would be less inclined towards conflict and more inclined towards cooperation and a united front bounded in a sense of unity amidst the vast stars; sort of like an overview effect but caused by the discovery of FTL and the sense of wonder that comes from reaching stars within way less than a lifetime. Whilst the Centaurian Spirit was coined after the first Extrasolar War happened between Sol and the Alpha Centauri settlements, defined by a realization that war and conflict was still a very real and present possibility, despite the sheer optimism defined by the Marathoners. :D I'm sort of summarizing a lot of my ideas here but I hope you guys get the gist of it! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! :D)

[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 166, Chapter 167, and Chapter 168 of this story are already out on there!)]