z

Young Writers Society


Battle School



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Sun Jun 25, 2017 3:10 pm
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Basil says...



Killian

After the announcement, the introduction to the school, I find myself extremely excited to start. My excitement grew exponentially as I was lead to my room, and found my belongings there already. I was almost too excited to pack, but with a few hours to kill before going to dinner, I decided to take my time and compose myself. When I eventually got out of my room and arrived at the dining hall, however, every shred of excitement died.

It didn’t quite occur to me just how alone I am here. I don’t know a single soul within this school. Oh, but I’m not the only one in this position.

My eyes scan the crowds, and then I spot her. Getting food. Grinning, I do the same, losing sight of her momentarily before spotting her again sitting down at a table with someone. Another girl. I stroll over casually and confidently, ignoring the beating of my heart. What if she tells me to go away? She seemed a little reluctant to converse earlier. And when she saw her other friends … Or maybe she’s just nervous to be around strangers? Oh jeez, I hope I don’t cause a scene.

When I get to the table, Alarin notices me and lifts an eyebrow. Ah well, no turning back now. I plaster on a wide smile. “Excuse me,” I say a little too loudly. The other girl turns to look at me. “I appear to have lost sight of most of my fellow Middlelanders, and it appears that the only one who I know is your wonderful self, Alarin.”

The white haired Northerner rolls her eyes and flicks a hand in my direction, “Esedra, this is Killian. I met him earlier.”

My eyes almost pop out of their head at the sight of her tattoos. She has tattoos? Well, best not to act too shocked. Alarin seems to notice my stare and looks away. I quickly take a seat and grin at Esedra, offering my hand. She takes it and I shake her hand briefly before sitting back. Esedra watches me closely for a moment before offering a slight smile.

“What are you here for, Killian?” She asks me.

“Ah,” I let a genuine grin spread across my lips. Alarin looks at me intently. “I’m studying enchanting. I picked it up in my home town. Thought I’d give it a go here.”

“Just like that?” Alarin frowns. “No one suggested to come here for further training?”

I nod, looking down at my food. “Oh yeah, gotta motivate yourself as well. No point doing something when everyone else says you have to,” I chuckle and start eating.

Alarin and Esedra talk quietly to each other, and I take the time to look around the dining hall. Huge. This space is absolutely huge. And if this is just the dining hall, I bet the rest of the school is even bigger.

Spotting a familiar mop of black hair, I excuse myself politely and weave through the crowd until I’m standing beside the angry Southerner I’d run into before our first day at school began. I quickly shove up beside him as he looks around for a table. His eyes drop down to me and he frowns something akin to irritation.

“Oh, it’s you,” he snaps.

“Yes, it is me,” I offer him my hand. He doesn’t shake it. Alright. “It appears you’re looking for some place to sit.”

“Actually,” he grates out, almost dejectedly. “I have some ah … planned seating arrangements.”

I watch him with amusement. “Oh, well, shall I escort you to your … planned seating arrangements?” I ask.

He grits his teeth. “No, so get lost,” he snaps at me, his eyes alight with fire.

I just watch as he storms away, and sits down at a bench with two other girls, one of them dressed in simple clothes, a letter on the shirt, the other dressed in a black dress with plated armour. He has a dark expression as he sits down, and waves away anything said to him. I can’t help the smile as I turn and walk back to the table to find Alarin and Esedra still talking to each other. When I retake my seat, they stop and look at me.

“Where did you go?” Esedra asks.

“Well, I was going to invite someone I met over to sit with us, but it seems he had other seating arrangements,” I glance over my shoulder, but the table the Southerner is seated at isn’t in view. I turn back to the two girls and grin. “I don’t think we really got to talk about this. What are the two of you studying here.”

“I’m here to study engineering,” Esedra says, her lips quirking in a smile. She shifts her head, red hair falling onto her shoulder. “But I also want to better my skills at sand magic.”

“Nice, nice,” I turn to Alarin.

“I’m here to learn combat in weaponry and non-weaponry,” she says, almost coolly. “But you already know this. We’ve discussed it already.”

I blanch, and then laugh loudly. “Ah, I forgot that. Well, I think you both will do splendid in your studies. I can just tell,” I grin wide at them.

Esedra seems a little put off by my enthusiasm, which is fair enough. Alarin just stares at me with a raised eyebrow. I can’t help but look at the tattoos on her hands again, wondering how far they go up her arm. She’s so young, but has tattoos. I wonder, truly, if it’s a Northerner custom.

“Well,” I rise to my feet again. “Sorry to cut the chat short, ladies, but I’m going to head off. I’d like to settle in to my room for the night.”

“It was nice to meet you, Killian,” Esedra offers a bland smile. Alarin just nods, watching me closely.

“It was my pleasure,” I bow to them both, and they exchange a glance. “I hope to see you around.”

“Sure,” Alarin grins. “Maybe not in class though.”

“Oh,” I look to Esedra, Alarin’s grin kind of disturbing. “Have a lovely night.”

“You too, Killian,” she almost bites out.

This would be my time to leave. I smile once more and walk away. Well, that went a little better than I thought. Maybe I shouldn’t have left the table. Ah, well, no point passing up opportunities to make friends. Even if that Southerner has proven he doesn’t want to be my friend. But you never know unless you try.

And that got me into this school. As well as my desire to save my little brothers.
Dorian, are you the one adding all the spices to our food?
Of course I am.
Why?
Because frankly the food here tastes like poorly cooked sawdust. It genuinely tastes how Solas looks.





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Tue Jun 27, 2017 7:20 pm
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Shota says...



Quez

Master Yazo Ka looked aghast as he stared into Quez’s sharp green eyes. “Yes, it IS important,” he growled at the young man, giving him a sharp rap on the head. “The South and North are fiercely different, and it is a matter of pride for most, if not all of them. You confusing them is-is likely to start a war, or see you isolated, despised, and detested by all. Am I clear?”

“Yes…” Quez answered with a long sigh as he ruefully rubbed his head. He enjoyed history for the most part, but some of this just seemed trivial to him. He couldn’t care less what great family or house ruled what part of the world. However blending in with the other students was the only way he was going to get through this and to do that he needed to have a basic understanding of how the world he was now in operated.

He straightened up a little, threw on his best smile, and boldly said, “Lead on Master Yazo, teach me more!”

The young master sighed and massaged his forehead with his fingers. “This is such a risk Quez, and we need to be careful. Luckily Headmaster Brighton is back for the welcoming of the new students, but he has to still be informed about who you are. Hopefully he takes it well and doesn’t fire me… or something worse.”

“You think he’ll be that mad?” Quez asked nervously.

Yazo shrugged, “Who knows with Jack, the man is as carefree as a summer breeze most of the time, but he can be serious, and usually he is deadly when such a mood comes on him. But better him then Reya, now that woman has ice in her bones.” The sudden tolling of a bell caused Yazo to shut the book in front of him which sent a cloud of dust rolling into the air. He cursed slightly, “So it begins already,” he darkly muttered as he turned to look at the young man. Quez’s age was a mystery, somewhere between 17-24, with a sparkle in his emerald eyes that seemed to promise adventure and excitement. He was likeable, but that could be dangerous for him if he wasn’t careful. Too much attention was the last thing they needed.

“All right Quez, give me the rundown, who are you.”

Grinning impishly Quez stood from his chair and bowed in the Middleland style, with a flourish of his green cloak. “I am Quez Hu’Goth, from the Middlelands! My family, the Hu’Goths are traveling entertainers and acrobats. Small, private, and with no political affiliations, we wander mostly. We perform for money when needed, but mostly stay to ourselves. I have performed with them since I was young,” He continued as he casually flipped over into a hand stand, giving Yazo a big grin. The Master rolled his eyes, but motioned for Quez to continue.

“My family sent me hear for more education, since they couldn’t give me much, and my magic was beyond their understanding. I know little about politics because we were always so isolated, but I am excited to learn and grow my understanding!” A sudden gust of wind stirred the room, knocking Quez to the ground with a grunt. “Not cool Nhara,” the young man snapped as he sat up, rubbing his tailbone with a grimace. “I’m practicing!”

“No,” a soft musical voice chimed, “You’re showing off. You need to focus, this is no joke Quez, and you could be killed, or tortured, or imprisoned for life if they find out who you are.” The words floated out of the air around them, almost like a whisper carried on a light wind. Quez’s hair gently waved as a small breeze enveloped him, and Yazo gave a small discreet cough.

“You’ll need to keep your Familiar in check Quez, don’t want to draw to much attention to yourself,” the Master warned.

“I am not his Familiar,” the musical voice hissed, as another puff of wind sent a fistful of dust into the master’s face.

Quez gave a helpless shrug as the Master tried to wave the dust from his face, a couple of sneezes shaking him. “Like I haven’t tried! She will do what she wants, but remember Nhara, if you get me found out you will be responsible for my death.”

“As if I would be so foolish,” the voice replied haughtily.

Quez ginned as he turned back to Master Yazo and continued, “I am a Wind Mage of sorts, but the Hu’Goths believe strongly in a person’s relationship with the world around them, it is one of the reasons why my style of magic is different than most. My training was also unorthodox, so I have been sent here to refine my magic, but also to learn more about the world I have been mostly isolated from, and to receive more formal training in spell work!”

Yazo gave a snort as Quez finished his little spiel. “Now if you could only wipe that grin off your face maybe it would be believable! Remember, discretion is key, don’t draw attention to yourself!”

“I would never!” The young man said, flashing an impish grin as he jumped onto the windowsill. “Got to go master, it’s time to enter Battle School!” With a small whoop of excitement Quez leapt out of the fourth story window, plummeting down to the ground below.

“I said be discreet!” Yazo yelled after him, as he vanished over the window sill. “That kid is going to get us both killed,” Yazo muttered as he quickly brushed off his robes and headed out the room, there were knew students to welcome. Hopefully Quez would make the cut, if he didn’t… Yazo had no idea what he would do with the young man.

********

Quez practically danced from one foot to the other, his face contorted in pain as he tried to ease through the room. He hated shoes. No he despised, loathed, and downright reviled the stupid things. But Master Yazo had insisted he wear them for the Social. Quez was already at a loss how anyone could wear the damned leather things. They suffocated his feet, and he couldn’t even feel the floor beneath his toes with them on.

Though the shoes were offal, the food was another matter. So much of it, more than Quez had ever seen. He was still struggling not to gawk at everything he laid eyes on in this city. It was all so… opulent and dramatic. Sweeping archways ordained with stained glassed windows, spiraling stair cases and murals inlaid with gold leaf and precious stones. The place was a feast for the eyes, and he wondered if it would ever get old, seeing the beauty that lay around him. He did miss the trees though, the mountains, the cool water that came from the mountain, but the Capital was proving to be an amazing sight. Nearly tripping he did an akward spin and came to safe halt by the table, though he did brush up against a young man with dark hair. Quez offered an apologetic grin, the man replied with a sneer before spinning around and leaving.

With a casual shrug Quez turned back to the food in front of him. “So much food,” he murmured as he stared at the table, “I don’t know where to start!”

“You’re telling me,” a voice beside him said.

Quez glanced over to see a young boy standing beside him, also eagerly eyeing all the food. The young man had a mop of white hair on his head, sparkling brown eyes, and one of the friendliest smiles Quez had seen yet. “Nice to see someone who isn’t scowling,” he said with a grin as he stuck out his hand to the young man. “I’m Quez Hu’Goth, and I am pleased to meet you.”

The young boy smiled back and shook his hand firmly. “Loiden Antwink,” he answered, “Pleased to meet you Quez. I don’t recognize your accent, where you from?”

“The Middlelands,” Quez answered, not too quickly he hoped.

“Oh me to!” Loiden replied, “What part are you from?”

By the ancients, Quez thought as he tried to act natural and aloof. Of course he would meet someone from the Middlelands first. “I’m part of the Hu’Goths, were a small nomadic tribe,” he offered, trying to not be tentative.

“Oh that explains the accent,” Loiden said with a dismissive wave as he piled food onto his plate. “Traveling all over tends to do that to people. Want to sit with me?”

Relieved the questioning had veered off Quez grinned and nodded. “I would be delighted to!” They both slid over to a nearby bench, one close by the food so refills would be easy. Quez nearly tripped three times on the short walk over. A questioning look from Loiden forced him to say, “I hate shoes, we don’t usually wear them out in the plains or when we perform.”

“Oh you’re a performer, huh?” Loiden asked. “Is that what you’re studying here?”

“Not really,” Quez replied. “Mostly I’m studying magic. What about you? You seem to be one of the younger ones here.”

Loiden’s chest puffed with pride as he nodded. “I am for sure! I want to be an explorer so I am studying all sorts of things. Magic, martial arts, diplomacy, anything I would need.” He seemed to deflate a little as he added, “That is, if I pass the entrance exam they have this year.”

Quez liked this kid. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t looking at him like he was a puzzle to be figured out. “I’m sure you’re going to do great,” he said with a big smile, “After all, how hard could it be?”





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Mon Jul 03, 2017 6:49 am
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SacredPen says...



Sacred


"Well. I do suppose this is goodbye, then."

Sacred stands rigidly in a clearing, his eyes faintly tracking the collection of scarlet-shaded leaves floating about, a few losing their lift and dropping into a pile. The light turquoise blades of grass sharply contrasting with their blood-red tips and the flashy yellows of the sunflowers, scattered but nevertheless joined in their colorful presence. A small grey squirrel scurries by Sacred, ceasing momentarily to acknowledge his existence before proceeding on into the sea of flora, the leaves and pollen parting and flying this way and that as the animal rushes through. The breeze is crisp and carries an enticing maple scent from the oaks deeper into the forest. There are, of course, a variety of trees, some known and named, some entirely unclaimed in that regard within the forest - the vibrant orange needles of the Darandus Trees are sweet to the taste and a common treat for wildlife, supplying most of the needed nutrients for the Kaloi birds that build their nests there. On the other hand, there are the grey, mechanical limbs of the Marlos Tree, white bulbs of Juliva Flowers just beginning to blossom their beautiful, but dangerous flowers coated in a special wax that only a few choice bugs can safely consume without drawbacks. A high concentration of this substance was enough to put a full grown man into convulsions within seconds.

Perfect for tipping claws with.

Sacred closes his eyes, remembering the time he spent in Crystala Forest, racing a hunting pack of wolves to their prey through the darkness, guided by their shiny silver coats and piercing howls, jumping through the verdant treetops of the evergreens in the bowels of the forest, snacking on the various berries and vegetables that Mother Sandra always prepared for him in a colorful assortment. Sacred adored that frail, but warm smile Mother Sandra wore like an eternal locket, never fading for even a moment, no matter what. There was that time Sacred was afraid to death of the poor woman and refused her acts of kindness as if his very existence depended on it, but she never stopped smiling. He remembers when she first tried to bathe him, and how horrible he was throughout the whole experience, thrashing about wildly as she tried adamantly to undress him, biting and clawing at her pale, spindly arms as she scrubbed his filthy body, the sheer amount of congealed blood, dirt, and other materials blackening the bath water multiple times over. It had been even worse when she'd attempted to wash his hair; he cried and flailed about in the most obnoxious manner in pain from the stinging of soap in his eyes despite being instructed multiple times to "keep them closed", something a feral boy with almost no human skills would understand, of course.

Alas, Sacred finds himself guided by his nostalgia to the abode of his beloved caretaker, a rickety grey shed composed of long logs of now decomposing wood with hand-knit curtains covering openings in the front and sides of the little house and a tall doorway complete with a dirt-stained mat composed of grass from the forest with "Welcome" depicted by the seeds of the clearing's sunflowers. Inside, there lay a solitary table with two chairs where Mother Sandra would set up dinner and pray before every meal, eventually instructing Sacred on the pleasures of knowing that one's existence is blessed with protection by omnipotence, a knit rug extending past a pile of thread and a spinning wheel into another doorway - there sat a rather large bed with a pink cover sporting a lime-green floral pattern where both Sacred and Mother Sandra slept together next to a large wardrobe where she kept their clothes. She would place extra covers on the poor shivering boy when winter rolled around, and would fan him off when it got too hot for him sleep.

Sacred sits in his spot at the table, placing both hands tiredly over his thin mustache and clasping his fingers together, beginning to pray,

"Your Omnipotence, grant me the courage to proceed through the trials of my existence, the strength to persevere through the challenges of my life, and the benevolence to accept that which is unsightly, unfriendly, and unkind. I wish these blessings from you, My Lord, and that Mother Sandra may find Your presence warm, delightful, and befitting of a saint as herself. Amen."

His eyes drift open about halfway as a solitary tear drops from his eye, hitting the table with a slightly audible drip. He walks towards the bedroom and stares at the outfit placed before him - a long-sleeved white shirt with long grey stripes leading down the front with a fancy fluffy-looking white fabric spiral around the ends of each sleeve, a pair of tan pants, leather boots with steel toes, and a long belt attached to a scabbard carrying a lengthy silver blade with markings in the gold-colored hilt, Sacred's name on one handle, Mother Sandra's on the other. It was a gift she'd bought for him for his 17th birthday, about 7 months prior to her death. He loved to practice with it outside, swinging it about wildly at a doll Mother Sandra'd also prepared for him.

"I know how much you love hearing those stories of my old days as a cleric of the Northern military, so I went out and got you a little surprise..." she said, presenting him with a bright red box about 7 feet in length bearing the name of the person who made it - a Sir Johnson of "Sir Johnson's Forging" in the Northernlands.

"Oh! A box! A rather large one at that! Why, thank you, Mother! May...may I open it?" Sacred examined the box thoroughly, just barely neglecting to sniff it as he'd become accustomed to doing.

"Of course! Open it right up!" Mother Sandra laughed, handing him a small knife to pry the box open with before immediately retracting it; Sacred had already broken the box open with his bare hands.

"Let's see here...huh? O-Oh, my goodness! Mother-! You...did you really?" Sacred stared in astonishment at the freshly polished blade resting upon a bed of brown and white spotted feathers.

"Yes, my child. Do you like it? It has our names engraved in it - right here, and right here. See?" Mother Sandra pointed at the handles of the sword with a bony finger.

"I love it, Mother! Thank you, thank you, a million thanks!" Sacred set the box down and knelt to hug Mother Sandra, who laughed and hugged him back, smiling as always.

"You really are a big man now, aren't you?"

"Yep! And as a man, it's my sworn duty to protect you, the creatures of the forest, and all in need! It's the way of the soldier and the life of a child of His Omnipotence!"

"Yes, my son. I'm sure you'll make a fine soldier one day. Now, why don't we enjoy the sweet desert I made for you, hm? I put extra blueberries in it this time - I know you love them!"

Sacred changes into the outfit and grabs the sword as well as his bronze armor by the bedroom entrance, tying the scabbard around his torso to accommodate the sheer size of the blade. He proceeds down the walkway out of the door, grabbing a pouch of gold pieces and other currency and tying them to his waist before sighing deeply and muttering,

"Goodbye, Mother. It's been awhile since you passed, but I feel as if I still have to speak to you, one last time. I've found a school that promises to mature me and help me grow into a true human being. I don't know if I ever told you, but I'm not alone in this world anymore, so you don't have to worry about that. I have...these things with me - they guide my heart and mind towards a brighter future, one you would approve of. I only know one of their names, and I'm sure they would love to meet you; Iolas says "hi"."

Tears begin to well up in Sacred's eyes as he continues, whimpering,

"I know what I put you through, and I understand that you only wanted the best for me, and even though I've made many improvements thanks to your guidance, I feel as if I still haven't repaid what's owed to you, or anyone I've deprived of time, energy, and resources. I must work harder to become as good of a person as you, but believe me, Mother...I will come back when I'm finally worthy of your praise. Rest peacefully...Mother."

Sacred's eyes are streaming at this point as he kneels before standing once more, wiping his face. He turns around and sees a rabbit sitting at his feet, sniffing his boots as it chews an ambiguous food item. Sacred kneels down and pets it lightly on the head, prompting it to sniff his hand and look at him,

"Hey, there. Look, I know you love me, and believe me, I love you too, and I'll miss you. But...you have to let me go. I'll be back here when I'm older and more mature, when I'm able to adequately protect all of you. When that day comes, I want you to be right here, waiting for me. Alright?" he assures the rabbit, standing once more. The rabbit makes a small noise before laying at his feet and closing its eyes. Sacred weakly chuckles and walks on through the forest, exiting at an open dirt road before proceeding towards the Battle School.

[*][*][*][*][*][*][*]

Sacred meekly approaches the intimidating doors of the building, unconsciously understanding his severe tardiness. The prospect of enrolling in a school and attending it by himself made his stomach vibrate with an adamant uneasiness, a feeling which persisted into the current moment, rendering him almost incapable of opening the doors himself. Beads of sweat course down his face as he motions one shaky hand to the door handles, his arm bearing the weight of the world.

"Iolas? Do...you think this is a good idea? I-I don't feel ready to...you know." Sacred stops, closing his eyes as he feels a coldness on his back. A light blue hologram of a small child with pale hands dressed in loose deep blue robes appears from behind him, phasing out of his body before floating to his side, looking around at the building.

"Doesn't look all that scary to me. I don't see what the big issue is..." Iolas responds, tilting his head before flattening his spiky blue hair. He stares up at a frightened Sacred, unable to even untighten his fists.

"Though, I do suppose it's rather difficult to depart from one's homestead without having even minor reservations. Wasn't a problem for me, but, then again, look where it got me." he corrects himself, giving Sacred a reassuring punch to the leg.

"It'll be quite alright. I promise. Magic is quite difficult to learn, even for us Mages, but I know you've got this. You're a smart man, Sacred, and I have utmost faith in your capabilities. Remember your promise." Iolas finishes before fading away in a cloud of white dust, floating away. Sacred releases his hands and sighs,

"Thank you, Iolas. I guess I just needed a confidence boost since Moth-"

"Hey, who're ya talkin' to?" a child's voice cuts him off and snaps him from his trance. He exclaims and jumps back a considerable distance, landing on all fours.

"Wh-Who're you?" he pants, his heart racing as he stares at the subject of his shock, a little girl with short black hair, a white shirt and black pants held up by crimson suspenders draped on the girl's shoulders.

"Name's Cassie! I live here, and was running to talk to my uncle for my daddy before I heard somebody talking outside...that was you, right? Where did the other person go?" the little girl responds chipperly, looking around the area as if there was anyone but Sacred there.

"O-Okay, uh, Cassie, was it? I am a n-new student here, and-and I don't know what I'm doin- um, where I'm going or what I'm supposed to be doing...and, uh...I need-" Sacred fumbles over his words before Cassie cuts him off once more,

"Guidance? Well, lucky for you, I just so happen to be good at just that! You can follow me, but I do have to run to talk to my uncle, so...if you wanted to see him, then..."

"I guess there's nothing else I can do...thank you, um..."

"Cassie!"

"Cassie, yes."

"One thing, though!" Cassie stops before turning back to Sacred, who'd began to trail her.

"What's the matter?"

"Why are you crawling? You'll get your nice outfit dirty!"

It had just occurred to Sacred that he'd been walking on all fours since his scare moments prior, which caused him to blush as he jumps to a standing position.

"Do disregard that, madam."

The duo make their way towards their destination, Sacred attempting to look as dignified as possible without appearing too snobby. He walks silently past a group of students, one of whom stares a hole into him with a sharp intensity, temporarily disconcerting Sacred. He's dressed in a tight, sleeveless shirt with baggy shorts and blue gymshoes.

"Who was that?" Sacred thinks to himself as he and Cassie tread the bronze and gold halls of the Battle School. The two eventually approach a darkened hallway with ostensibly important pictures lining the walls, stopping at a door with a sign reading "Headmaster".

"Wait here, alright? I'll be right back." Cassie assures Sacred as she enters the room and exits about a minute following.

"Shall we depart now, Miss?" Sacred attempts to alleviate the connotation he feels he's left between the two by acting smooth and civil.

"My uncle would like to see you, actually." Cassie responds, slightly less enthusiastically than normal.

Oh, bother.

Sacred stumbles into the threshold of the door, balancing himself on the door before knocking on the back of it,

"May I come in?"

"But, of course! I, mean, you're already halfway there, might as well finish the job, eh?" the headmaster responds and a gruff, yet friendly and inviting tone.

Sacred steps into the room, closing the door behind him before looking around vaguely at the area. A flower pot of hostas sits next to a grey metallic chair with wheels at the bases of the legs, something Sacred had never seen before. This makes him afraid to sit down, inciting him to rather fumble about with his fingers by the door, occasionally looking up at the jovial man at the desk before him, his feet propped up on it. He has medium-length white hair in a similar laid-back style to Cassie, his slight goatee adding to his nobility and significant stature. He's draped in all black robes, and has his hands behind his head, a confident smile across his face.

"What's the matter? Come on, take a seat! You're making me nervous!" the man beckons, waving his hand.

"Yes, sir." Sacred concedes as he attempts to hold the chair still long enough to take a comfortable seat. This takes a moment.

"So! Cassie tells me you're quite the interesting person! I believe she said something along the lines of 'There's this really big guy in armor I met who crawls around sometimes...and his hair is pretty, too!' Does that sound like you?" the man laughs, gesturing this way and that.

"S-Something like that, yes. I'm sorry about the crawling part, though - it's a bad habit of mine. But, I'm a new...uh..." Sacred sighs, looking away.

"Well, when she said 'crawl', she didn't exactly specify what she meant, but..." the headmaster places his index finger quizzically to his lips.

"Sir? I'm a new student, and I have money here, and..."

"I guess there's not many ways to crawl, are there? I mean, I can't remember the last time I saw someone crawl..."

"S-Sir? What did you want to see me for? If it's something important, I'd like to know..."
the headmaster snaps back into reality, looking at Sacred.

"Oh! Oh, yes! New student! What's your name?" he asks, extending his hand to Sacred, who reflexively jumps back out of fear once more, landing on two legs and one hand, the other poised to swipe. This action causes the headmaster to almost lose balance and fall, but he catches himself and rights himself in his chair.

"Goodness me! What in the world was that?" he exclaims, now visibly shocked.

"I-I didn't know what you were doing, and I...kinda...It's another bad habit sir. I apologize." Sacred turns away once more, standing and brushing himself off before picking up the now toppled chair and taking a seat.

"Interesting habit, Mr...?"

"Sacred. My name is Zhoma Sacred."

The headmaster stares Sacred up and down pensively before sighing and continuing,

"What house are you from? What family?"

"Well, I don't come from a house...more of a shed, than anything, but it's home to me. Mother Sandra was my only family, and she passed, so..." Sacred mutters, scratching the back of his head.

"No, I mean...what? Mother who? What shed? What do you mean?" the headmaster questions eagerly, a bold intrigue in his eyes.

"I used to live in a giant field with a lot of creatures, but then I found this boat and floated here, and Mother Sandra found me huddled up in her house and I guess decided to take care of me there. She taught me how to speak, read, and write a bit, which is how I wrote my letter to get here, but I don't know if I finished my admissions process, so I brought money and armor in case I have to fight someone. This is a battle school, is it not?" Sacred replies, growing more confident as his sentences continue.

"Ah...hah. I see. Well, I don't know about any admissions process for you, but as far as I'm concerned, you're a student here! Welcome aboard! Now, I have a busy day of logging the new students, so why don't you go get your stuff set up and prepare for dinner at sundown, eh?" the headmaster laughs, standing up.

"Sir? Might I have your name?" Sacred asks, extending his hand in a pale imitation of the headmaster.

"Sure! Name's Jack Brighton, but you can call me Mr. Brighton! Nice to know there's a variety of spirits here at the school, you included!"

"Thank you, Mr. Brighton. I'll be on my way, then." Sacred heads out of the room and looks around, not a trace of Cassie or anyone else.

"Great. Guess I'm alone now. But not really...I've got Iolas, at least."
"Why do I need money to live? Can't I just, like, photosynthesize or something?"





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TinkerTwaggy says...



Loiden – Get: Friends’n’food!


Battle School’s hall was just like Loiden remembered the first time he had crossed it to take the Pre-Entrance Battle Test: large, easily to get lost in, and full of golden features right and left and vibrantly colored stained glass. But to Loiden, none of this mattered when a gathering of such potentially amazing people flowed all around him. Though it was obvious that not all of them were inclined to talk – which Loiden understood: after all, the Battle School test was stressful enough already, not to mention each of these potential pupils had their own problems to deal with – Loiden couldn’t help but look right and left for features or details unique to them. So far, the only noticeable things he had seen during the walk was two girls in front of him, one of them wearing a tainted black visor that masked the upper side of her face, and the other was dressed in traditional warrior’s clothing. He would’ve asked about these features, but well, the two girls were locked in a conversation already.

Besides, something else ended up attracting Loiden’s interest: it was a small man dressed in impeccable blue military clothing, with a gray-colored creature with reddish brown spots on its skin standing atop the man’s shoulder with its monkey-like prehensile feet.

“What’s that on your shoulder?” Loiden couldn’t help but ask, gazing at the creature with interest.

The man turned back, visibly surprised to see the child. “Hello, little one!” he exclaimed, a bright smile enlightening his confident face. “Ozymandias Drifter, at your service! And that,” he added, pointing a finger at the creature on his shoulder, “is Arcanus, my right-hand Imp.” as if on command, the Imp immediately struck a prideful pose.

“Ooh… he’s like your Familiar?”

“Yes, indeed! And I happen to have more of his kin at my command: together, we form an unstoppable force bound to overcome any challenges that comes our way.”

Loiden’s eyes widened. “Ooh…! You have an army of Familiars? That’s so cool! You’re like General Guyepp!”

Ozymandias blinked. “I’m afraid I may not know who or what you are referring to here, but is this Guyepp person a… likeable general?”

“Oooh, yes!” Loiden immediately replied, nodding furiously. “He’s the leader of a group of disorganized demons that deserted a war they were too scared to join, and he decided to turn them into an amazing fighting force called the Mastrikers.”

Ozmandias’ smile grew larger. “Now that, sounds like the type of wonderful ambitions I could get behind!” he exclaimed. “Does he succeed in his endeavor?”

“Yeah! Well, the series isn’t finished, but after each tale, called ‘operations’ to fit the theme, Guyepp goes stargazing with his army and gives a summary of what went right, what went wrong and what they can fix together next time. It’s a series of children’s fairy tales, but what I like about them is that they give info on actual military formations and strategies along with the stories. I find that really cool!”

“Aaah, an inspiring commander that an entire generation of children can hope to admire and learn from…” Ozymandias gazed at Arcanus, and they nodded in sync. “Maybe writing books is a task we should consider, during our quest for supreme graduation!”

“Or… leave your mark in history!” Loiden suggested. “Oh, wait… Both!”

Ozymandias blinked. “So, not only are you able to perform such dramatic entrances at your age, you can also tap into your inner glint of genius to inspire others?” he once again gazed at his Familiar, visibly moved. “Truly, this school is something else.”

“Ah, you saw that entrance.” Loiden realized, giggling. “Well I thought I was late so I…” he frowned. “…still… didn’t tell you my name. Which is Loiden Antwink, by the way. Nice to meet you, uh… Oz…?”

“Oh, Oz will do, Loiden.” Ozymandias assured. “Besides, you seem like quite the friendly spirit, so I nor my imps will mind if you abbreviate my name.”

“Friendly spirit?” Loiden repeated. “If we’re going for titles, then I’ll stick with two of ‘em!”

“Oh? And those are?”

Loiden struck a pose, fists on the hips. “Default one: ‘Scapegoat’, or my favorite: ‘Little Glee’!”

“Hmm… Little Glee sounds much better than Scapegoat.”

“I knooow, right?”

The duo moved to a passionate conversation about the importance of self-made titles, names and identities before separating as they reached the hall, officially marking their newfound friendship with a solemn handshake.
It was nice having a randomly enjoyable chat with a randomly enjoyable person.
Feeling happier than usual, Loiden walked around the hall, realizing that everyone else was already taking food, plates and taking whatever space was free for them to sit on, either in groups or by themselves. Loiden himself shyly approached the giant table in the middle – he had to admit, he was quite intimidated by the amount of food gathered for them to enjoy. His mother liked to put variety in her dishes, but even her would call this a waste.

“So much food.” someone muttered next to him, as if reading his mind. “I don’t know where to start!”

“You’re telling me.” Loiden replied, surprising the boy in front of him.

After choosing the food they needed, and after another friendly chat – Loiden was beginning to think he was good at those – he discovered that his new companion of the day was called Quez Hu’Goth, his last name also referring to a nomadic tribe of private entertainers. The conversation moved towards Loiden himself as well as the entrance exam, which he had to admit, was scaring him a little.

“I’m sure you’re going to do great.” Quez said, his green eyes sparkling with confidence. “After all, how hard could it be?”

Loiden blinked. “Well, um… We have a series of instructions given to us step by step, without any idea of what’ll come next.” he began. “Then, we can’t anything with us aside our clothes, but since in my case my vest is enchanted, I can’t take it either and will have to make another. Then, we must use weapons and items from the school, but we can also forge what we need based on their materials. And finally, we have no idea of what set of tasks they’ll ask us to do, or how much time it’ll take. So… Yeah.”

“I… see.” Quez said, thoughtful. “These are all of the rules, right? I don’t think you should keep them all in mind if you want to pass the exam, they’ll just restrain you.”
“Eh, not really. I mean, I am a bit anxious, but I don’t learn and remember rules to stress myself out.” A mischievous grin grew on the boy’s face. “I remember them to bend them better. And I mean, there’s nothing like my stickmen to fight against stress!”

Quez gave him a questioning look. “Your stickmen?

“Mmhmm!” putting his plate and barely touched food on the side, Loiden fumbled through his backpack, looking for his sketchbooks. “Y’see, I discovered this artbook that explained how stickmen were basic representative figures of us humans ever since one of ‘em started drawing. And the author of this artbook explained that although he could never really draw that well, he was very invested in trying to do an amazing work with his coloring, posing and facial expressions. So, he stuck to simple shapes and studied that.” Loiden pulled out a poster featuring several stick figures holding various weapons and poses.

Spoiler! :
Image


This was the result.” Loiden concluded, visibly excited. “I’m not a good artist either, so, whenever I feel down or stressed, I just draw some of these to cheer up. So far so good!”

Another smile grew on Quez’s face, as he gazed back at the child. “Looks like you’re full of surprises.” he simply said.

“I have been told.” Loiden replied, chuckling childishly before putting the image back in his sketchbook. Gazing back at his plate, he grabbed a sandwich and began eating happily.

“Oh! Wait, we didn’t take drinks. I’ll go grab some for us.” With another of his charming smiles, Quez rose up and, after three steps, tripped.

Ahoy!”

Before Quez fell face first on the ground, a bright, absurdly long tail of electricity and light sprung from Loiden’s back and grabbed Quez’s arm, stopping his fall immediately.

“You okay?” Loiden asked, slightly concerned.

“Ugh, yeah…” Quez replied, visibly annoyed by his shoes. “Well not at long as these are still choking my feet.” he came back to Loiden’s side, looking at his feet.

“You know what, I’ll just help you grab the drinks for us when I’m done with this sandwich.” Loiden commented as his Ielmars tail vanished. “I swear that shoes can be awesome if you get the good ones!”

“I don’t know, all these shoes seem pretty unbearable to me.”

Loiden giggled. “That’s discrimination towards the Shoe population.”

Quez gazed at Loiden, slightly confused. “You make it sound like there’s thousands of different shoes in the world!”

“That’s because there are!”

“…Oh. Well, we learn every day.” Quez said, half-surprised, half-jokingly.

“Agreed. You can remove them if you feel less comfy, you know. I saw some people bare-footed.”

“I’ll think about it.” Quez grabbed a sandwich as well, as a fruit resting on his plate. “Have a good meal, Loiden.”

“Same to you!”

The two chomped on their food, watching the people pass as they enjoyed their meal.
"Is there a limit to how much living I can live with my life? How will I know if I've gone too far?
And why did I spend my life savings on sunglasses for a whale?
I shall find the answers... to these questions."





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Shota says...



Quez

Quez was still wrestling with the revelation of what Loiden had revealed. Thousands of shoes. THOUANDS. The preposterousness of it overwhelmed him, to the point he wasn’t even sure how to feel. He glanced down at the ones he was wearing, a gift from Master Yazo, and he could have sworn they were staring at him. Leathery holes held eyes, stitching sealed away yawning mouths and limbs, waiting to devour whatever feet found their way to them. Did these people not realize that their lives were less because of such things, that they cut themselves off from the flow of the world around them?

Maybe it was the beauty of what they had created, the man made things they filled their lives with? Gazing around at the room he could recognize it as amazing. The large stained glass windows glittered and caught what few rays of sunshine remained. They reflected the golden beams into thousands of tinny shards that swirled around the room in a dance of color. The glazed marble floors were arrayed in countless patterns and designs, the complexities impossible to grasp unless you viewed them from up high. Intricately carved wooden railings and spools were everywhere, their depictions a range of different cultures and legends that Quez couldn’t even begin to understand. All of it made by these humans, yet all of it made from other things.

“Do you feel it?” a voice said in his ear. He knew it was Nhara, he knew that she spoke only to him and no one else could hear. The slight breeze she carried ruffled his hair for the briefest of moments, and he knew she could feel the ache that was in his heart. “The outsiders only take, they have no appreciation for the world the live in, no respect, and no honor.”

He could feel her disgust through the bond that they shared. Her words were sentiments of many Dwellers, these outsiders had come and taken, and taken, and taken. They never sought to understand, to connect, to build relationship with this world and those who dwelt in it. Instead they came with swords and swirling magic’s, conquering and taking anything that they pleased. They blamed all Dwellers for the acts of a few, and their swords did not discriminate when it came to spilling blood.

Sitting here in all the splendor they had arrayed, Quez felt… sad. They cannot all be like this, there have to be some who care enough about the future. Who would seek to know me and my people, to create a level of peace that is sustainable? Let genocide not be the only option they consider, oh gods let it not be.

It was as if Nhara could read his mind. “They would see you and all Dwellers dead Quez, never forget this.”

He didn’t answer. Casting a glance over at Loiden a small smile split his face. The young man was happily going to town on his food, and in him Quez saw some hope. The boy wasn’t bitter and angry. He was hopeful, and was looking to the future and what it held. Life experiences hadn’t destroyed his soul, and the life that beat within, and in him Quez saw a promise for friendship, for future.

“Hey, Loiden,” he said.

“Yea?” the young boy chirped, glancing over with a mouth full of fruit.

“Thanks for talking with me,” Quez said, “I appreciate it, this whole experience has been rather overwhelming, and it’s nice to make a friend.”

“Yea?”Loiden said, “Friends are always good!” The innocence of his smile caused Quez to grin back, and with gusto they both turned back to their food.

Quez was in the middle of slurping down a weird round fruit, when a little red imp suddenly crawled over his shoe. Quez’s first thought was that shoes were indeed evil, and that his were a portal to hell, unleashing small demons upon the world. He jerked his foot, nearly sending the small creature tumbling off into the air, but it held on with a dogged determination.

Of course in the natural progression of things Quez began to choke on the fruit he had been attempting to swallow. With a squawk he pounded at his chest, the little demon forgotten as all air stopped flowing to his lungs. One of his hands shot out, and sent some food flying off the bench, most of it Loiden’s. The young boy let out a cry of dismay as the food went soaring, then seeing Quez’s quickly reddening faces he jumped on the bench and began to pound his back, trying to force the fruit free.

Nhara came to the rescue, the invisible familiar summoned a swirl of air and shoved it down Quez’s throat, causing the fruit to pop free as he gasped for a breath. I am NOT doing a good job about being subtle and not attracting attention, Quez thought, and if all of these recent charades reached Master Yazo’s ears he would be sure to give Quez a lecture tomorrow. And lectures sucked.

“You okay,” Loiden asked worriedly.

“Fine,” Quez gasped as the little imp slowly pulled itself up to the bench, and with as much dignity as it could summon, brushed itself off. “The little guy just surprised me.”

Loiden brightened as he saw the tiny creature, “Oh I know him, he’s part of Oz’s army.”

Quez couldn’t even summon a reply as the imp motioned for Loiden to follow him before running off into the crowd. The young boy gave an amused shrug as he stood to follow. “I’ll see you later Quez! Looks like I’m going on an adventure!”

Quez just grinned as the two went off into the crowd. Battle School, how more unique could a place get? The party seemed to be dying off a bit, and Quez slowly stood to his feet with a yawn. Maybe it was time for him to go as well? Tomorrow marked the first day of the trials, and he could already feel the anticipation like a pit in the bottom of his stomach.

He wearily began to walk, trying to take his time so as not to fall or draw more attention to himself. Tonight hadn’t gone bad. It hadn’t gone wonderful either, but he would count it as a win in his book! Halfway towards the door he realized he was not going to make it. His shoes would kill him, or trip him, or cause him to fly into some noble’s son, which would probably mean death as well.

Aiming for a nearby wall, the closest resting place he could see, he hobbled over, leaning against the cool marble with a happy sigh as he steadied himself. A young man was already leaning there, eyeing the room warily. He glanced at Quez, almost unsure of how to respond to the young man. He stood straight, not stiff, but like he was ready for something if it was to happen. The young man’s dark hair contrasted with his light skin, and his handsome face held a pensive expression as he eyed the new comer. His clothes were perfectly neat and pressed, a dark blue coat connected with a golden clasp covered most of them however. Quez could swear the clasp symbol looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it

“Sorry to come to your wall,” Quez said with a grin. “But you know, shoes.” He pointed down at his feet, and the young man merely raised a single eyebrow in response. “I’m just going to rest here if you don’t mind, before I brave the rest of the way.” He glanced around and smiled, “Good spot you picked, and you can see every entrance from here.”

That little comment seemed to only make the young man tenser, but he nodded politely. “Indeed you can.”

“So where are you from?” Quez asked, slightly bored and figuring talking was the only thing that was going to get his mind off of the shoes. Part of him considered doing a hand stand and walking out of the hall on his hands, to save his poor feet. But, you know, he needed to be inconspicuous.

“I’m from the North,” his companion said proudly. He seemed to be considering what else to say, and then, as if relenting, slowly stuck out a firm hand. “Devon Jace, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Jace, Quez thought, that name almost sounded familiar. He had the nagging feeling he should know it. “Well I’m Quez Hu’Goth, and it’s nice to meet you. So you’re from the North huh? How long have you lived there?”

Devon’s frowned deeply at that, his eyes searching Quez’s face for something. It was almost as if he thought the young man was making a joke at his expense, and Quez couldn’t help but feel he was missing something. Seeing no ruse in Quez’s eyes, Devon slowly nodded, “I do enjoy it up there, immensely so. The North is a proud place, fiercely loyal to the Capital and all of its ideals. Me and my family have also been up there for generations, you could say ice runs in our viens.” He was still watching Quez closely, as if searching for something. Not finding what he sought however he asked, “What about you? I know most of the North and South students here, I am assuming you are from the MIddlelands?”

Quez brightened at that. “Yes I am,” he said with a slight flourish of his green cloak and a small bow. He had practiced that damn bow so much there was no way he wasn’t going to use it. He almost slipped in the middle of it, his slick shoes sliding a bit on the floor. Managing to right himself however he sheepishly smiled, Devon returned the smile with a confused frown. “My family travels a lot. We do performances for local Lord’s and towns in order to make a living, though most of our time is spent on the road.”

“You’re a performer?” Devon asked, looking like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

“You bet,” Quez said.

“Are you… good?” Devon said. The question wasn’t rude, mostly curious, and Quez could guess where it came from.

“Ahhhh yes, I am actually. It’s just that we don’t usually where shoes where I’m from, and the stiffness of them is quite limiting.”

Now Devon’s frown looked more confused, as if he was trying to figure out Quez and struggling to do so.





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sheysse says...



Leafe Seurle


While most elemental wielders stop after mastering one, it is just as common to master a second after mastering a first. Few end up perfecting both, however, so expecting to do so is not always the best bet, because it may lead to disappointment.

The most common mistake people make when trying to learn another element is they forget the first, becoming so focused on the new one. This is wrong for a few reasons. Firstly, doing so might lessen your strengths in the first. Being great at one and bad at the other is far more ideal than being mediocre at both.

Secondly, the easiest way to teach yourself a second element is to remember the skills from the first, and attempt to incorporate them. There are many-


Leafe slammed the book shut and looked up at the ceiling, groaning from the intense, head-splitting headache. She rolled over on the bed of her dorm and dropped the tome, The Art of Dual-Wielding Elements, on her small nightstand. In the process, her lamp fell on the floor, breaking the base of it. Again she groaned and hopped off her bed, inspecting the broken device.

The cables dangled out of the shattered glass base, but the rest of the lamp remained intact. The brushed the pieces of the base under her bed, pretending they weren't there, and tapped the wires. In the fall, some had become disconnected, so Leafe created isolated pathways of ice, using water's conductive abilities to carry the signal. She formed a base of sculpted ice, stood the lamp on her desk beside the book, and switched it on. The bulb flickered to life.

Satisfied by her work yet still plagued by the severe headache, Leafe left her dormitory and crossed down the hallway. She kept her eyes on the pale white tiles covering the floor, avoiding the lights on the high ceiling, but was still irritated by the reflection on them. Rushing further down, she took a sudden left, bursting onto one of the balconies overlooking the entire school.

Outside, the sunlight was fighting to shine, but the clouds wouldn't give up. Still, it broke through finally, though not before her headache cleared. On the horizon,, a storm raged on. The deserts of the South were being bombarded with strikes of lightning. Leafe stared in awe.

That was the force she admired, the power that she wanted. To strike like lightning, to dominate like a storm.

A sudden gust of wind slammed into Leafe, causing her to stumble back, robe billowing out behind her. She saw the storm change direction, slowly drifting towards Battle School. A slight grin crossed her face, knowing she'd once again stand within that force and power.

Suddenly, watching that storm approach, and seeing the rain fall to the ground, an idea struck her. The words of the book stuck in her head. "The easiest way to teach yourself a second element is to remember the skills from the first, and attempt to incorporate them." She slowly raised her hand so it was level with her chest and created a gauntlet of ice. In a smooth motion, she clenched her hand into a fist. The storm raged on before her, and she made an attempt to focus on it, imagining that brutal force swelling within her, channeled straight into her fist. She took a deep breath and opened her fist.

Inside her palm was a spark.

It faded into nothing after a few seconds, but it definitely had been there. Imagining more brought more sparks. She tried to control it, make bigger sparks, or something, but stray sparks were all she could create.

Still, it had been something. This was the first time she had made artificial electricity.

Spinning around, she nearly floated back down the hall to her dorm. In her excited state, she walked into a boy near her age, also a student. He fell back, but immediately hopped to his feet. Taking in his features, red hair, slightly tan skin, she realized he was from Middlelands.

“I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going,” Leafe said regretfully.

The boy grinned cheerfully. “I noticed!”

Leafe couldn't help smile at this boy's pleasant disposition. “I'm Killian,” he said, sticking his hand out to shake. She went to return the gesture, only to realize her ice gauntlet was still there. Awkwardly, she dissipated it and shook his hand. He asked no questions, but rather seemed to be expecting something.

“Your name?”

“Oh, right! I'm Leafe.”

“Then, nice to meet you, Leafe.”

“I suppose you're off to breakfast?”

“I am,” he said. “Gonna be meeting up with some friends I met yesterday. Care to join?”

Leafe hesitated, unsure. Killian was a Middlelander, and would be a valuable asset, but he also may be eating with Northerners and Southerners. Still, she decided the gains were worth the hypothetical losses. Smiling, she said “Sure.”





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SacredPen says...



Sacred - Lime-haired Kitten!


"Well, hello there! Still lost?" a tiny, cheerful voice greets a bewildered Sacred's ears as he aimlessly roams the deserted halls of the Battle School. By now, he was beginning to worry that perhaps he'd entered an area he wasn't supposed to, and thus is rather surprised to hear Cassie in an area he'd deemed incapable of navigation by even the headmaster and a map. Startled, Sacred slides his body sideways in place, retracting his left fist while staring directly at the young girl, who looks back up to him through her beckoning, innocent blue eyes.

"My...my apologies, Young Miss. I did not realize it was you. Yes, I am very much so lost. May you..." Sacred bows in apology before turning away from the child in embarrassment.

"May you please guide me to my room? I'd like to see if they have any articles of clothing there." he finishes, nervously twiddling his fingers.

"Aww, of course, big guy! I know these walls like the back of my hand! Follow me, and I'll lead you right where you want to...wait a minute..." Cassie nods, marching off like a toy soldier before stopping about five feet down the hall.

"What seems to be the matter, Young Miss?" Sacred asks, walking up to the little girl.

"You, um...Where's your bags? Your clothes, your books, you know...everything? I just remembered that you didn't bring anything with you," she questions, leaning to both sides to see if Sacred was concealing something.

"I...don't have much other than the clothes and armor I'm wearing now, and the sword Mother bought me a while ago. If they have other outfits, it's fine, but if not, I may have to learn to wash these." Sacred gestures towards himself, looking down.

"Oh...who is Mother? Is she nice?" Cassie asks, marching once more.

“Mother is...well, she was my caretaker and adoptive parent before she um…” Sacred’s voice trails and his pace slows as the thought of her passing refreshens itself in his mind. Cassie notices his lack of quickness and turns worriedly up to him, still marching. He sees this, which makes him turn away slightly.

“She passed about 7 months ago, but...I don’t know, I guess I wish she was still here. She was such a good person - a saint, really,” he continues, sighing.

Cassie stares back forward, her expression unchanging as they proceed down this hallway and that; Sacred doesn’t even pay attention to where he’s going nor the colors of the school - beautiful bronzes and shimmering reflective turquoise tilings line the floor and walls in a checkerboard pattern of a few halls, a sumptuous white floral wallpaper coating the walls of some others.

Cassie stops about ten minutes into their trip to sit on a long wooden bench, sighing and laying her head back as if it were being washed, her eyes closed as she smiles and hums a little tune, swinging her legs above the floor.

“What are you doing, Young Miss?” Sacred asks, stopping in front of her with a stumble.

“Ta-kin’ a break. We’ve been going for quite a while now, y’know? It doesn’t hurt to take a rest now and then. Why don’tcha have a seat, Mister?” she beckons, a soothing cheer in her voice. Sacred stares around nervously, clasping his hands as he bends down next to the girl, his legs bent like twin springs, each pointing to one side or the other, his hands on the ground as he stares vacantly forward. Cassie continues humming for a few moments before cracking open her eyes and leaning over to Sacred, laying across the seat to look at him, her head propped up with her hands.

Whatcha doin’?~” she almost sings her inquiry, kicking her feet up and down slightly as she speaks.

“I believe I’m resting, Young Miss. You did recommend I do so, correct?” he answers, his body unfaltering aside from his head, which turns to face the small child, whose face brightens in amazement.

“Kind of an odd way to rest, isn’t it?” she asks, scooching up a bit to achieve a full view of the quaint position of the boy before her.

“I do not believe so, Young Miss; I’ve done this my whole life, for the most part. Why do you say so?” he replies, tilting his head upwards and twitching his ears.

“Well, it’s just...you’re crouching. Don’t you think crouching is harder than sitting? Or...do you have a tail or something that gets in the way?” she laughs, turning her body to see the boy’s backside.

“I...I’ve never checked, but I’m sure if I did, I’d know by now, Young Miss. Do you have one?” he turns his head to look behind himself, seeing nothing.

“Does it look like I have one, Mister?” she chuckles, squinting a solitary eye. Sacred blushes and corrects his view forwards with rapid movement of his neck that pulls it a bit, a burning pain brewing in the area following a momentary stinging.

“I...do suppose not, Young Miss.” he clears his throat before placing his hand back to the ground.

“Are you...a frog, then?”

“I’m not a frog, Young Miss. I’ve seen some before, though.”

“Ooh! I’ve seen frogs sit like that before, too! - outside near a little pond; they’re so adorable, aren’t they? I-! Uhhh...just yesterday, it rained, and they were jumping around outside! They looked so happy, and I wanted to go outside and jump around with them, but Daddy said it was a nono because I’d catch cold if I went out in rain…Today I tried to pet one that was hopping by the door, and it nibbled my finger! Frogs are so adorable,” she spouts, her eyes full of glee.

“I...if I acted like a frog, would...would I be…adorable to you, Young Miss?” Sacred asks, placing his index finger to his lips as he stares at the little girl.

“Well, of course! I mean, I’m not sure how somebody could act like a frog, but I’m right behind the idea of trying!” she declares, tossing herself off of the bench to the floor, landing on all fours.

“Do as I do, then, Mister! We’ll both be adorable together! Race you!” she commands as she hops forward, landing in a similar position to Sacred, whose face expresses an unmistakable astonishment. The duo take turns making tiny leaps down the hallway, laughing and giggling as they proceed down a few more passages. It becomes grossly apparent that Sacred is more versed in quadrupedal mobility than Cassie, who repeatedly stumbles on every jump while he lands with silent grace. However, despite the vast difference in their capabilities, Sacred decides to let Cassie pass him to their finish line, the dorm room hallway. She stands up and starts dancing in place, jumping up and down while chanting “I won, I won!” in a singsong voice, out of breath, but still persistent.

“It appears you are victorious, Young Miss! Congratulations!” he stays on all fours, clapping for the little girl, who bows a few times before smugly placing her hands at her sides and smirking.

“Thank you, thank you, my humble audience! You guys knew I could do it, and we won together!” she bows once more to Sacred, “And a congratulations to you, my competitor! I appreciate the participation! Here, you get a complimentary pat on the head.” she motions towards his lime-green dreads, rubbing his head softly as he purrs slightly, smiling uncontrollably.

“Do you like it when people pet you?” Cassie asks in a low tone, caressing the boy’s scalp and running her fingers through his rough hair.

“Yes...Yes I do. I very much so enjoy it.” he replies flatly, moving his head closer to the girl’s hand.

“Wow! You really like being pet! You remind me of this little kitten I found outside once! It’s little paw had a rock in it, and it was crying, so I took the rock out and took it to Daddy, who gave the cat to someone else who healed it! It was so cute...I just had to pet it!” she happily streams, giving Sacred two final pats before placing her hands at her sides, leaning back and forth on the heels and tips of her shoes, respectively.

“Well, this is the dorm room hall - all of the students live here, and it’s ordered by last name! I don’t know if they have an official room for you, yet, but if you tell me your name, I can tell ya where it might be, if there is one!” Cassie offers, looking up at Sacred.

“My name is Zhoma Sacred.” he replies, tilting his head a bit.

“Yikes! I don’t think there’s a room for you, after all! I’ve never seen an ‘S’ room with more than a few people in it!”

“Oh, that is...rather disheartening, Young Miss.” his eyes droop to the ground as he sighs disappointedly.

“Aww, don’t feel bad! Look, I’ll go talk to my uncle when he gets a minute, and he can probably get you one with someone else, ‘kay? For now, you should probably go to the cafeteria - they’re serving right now, I think!” she smiles, chuckling a tad.

“That, I shall do. I do not believe I’ll need directions, either, as the smell of food is rather...potent. My humble salute to you, Young Miss.” he bows his body to the floor before standing and starting off in the direction of the smell, waving to the little girl.

“Bye, Mister! See you later!” Cassie waves, walking down the dorm hall.

******

Sacred eventually reaches the cafeteria - a loud, pleasant-smelling place with red and black tiling, large, untainted windows, and full seats almost everywhere, save for a few spots here and there.

“Goodness me, what a turnout…I hope I can manage here…” he thinks, whimpering audibly as he meekly proceeds towards the tables covered from end to end with a wide assortment of foods.
"Why do I need money to live? Can't I just, like, photosynthesize or something?"





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Chaser says...



Ozymandias Drifter - From Deserted Deserts to Deserved Desserts


Oz sat at the end of his table, toying with a fork in a land of unknown desserts. All around him, the imps feasted upon the fineries of Capital squalor. The second-in-command, Saint, was inspecting the cheese rinds for mold, just before Hogan stuffed them into its mouth and gulped them down. As the imp burped and patted its stomach, grinning, Oz briefly wondered how demons metabolized the food they ate. Well, they liked it, anyway.

Two of the egotistical ones, Nero and Von Wight, were locked in a game of Rochambeau over a pair of ripe, juicy apples. It had gone just as it always did, with Nero angrily accusing Von Wight of cheating, and Saint moving in to break it up. Behind their backs, Hogan took three bites out of each apple.

Oz shifted in his chair, trying to make his food look more appetizing. His shoulder was uncharacteristically light; he’d sent Arcanus on a mission minutes ago. One, he thought grimly, that could determine his keep in this academy.

His official class on his application was “Summoner.” Even with his imp-eccable command, much more impressive beasts had already entered the school. That girl - Esedra - had arrived on a dragon! No, it was clear that he could not hope to impress with firepower alone. Like so many great generals, he needed a plan. The power-test audition was fast approaching; Oz could only hope he had enough time.

An imp glanced at him, and paled in shock at the dark expression on his face. Noticing, Oz shook his head, crafting a smile with it.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Gallow,” he said. “I thought I made it clear that tonight was the night of merriment, and you,” he said, cutting a piece from his sponge cake and offering it, “need more merrimenting.”

The imp recruit looked at him for a moment, then nodded, its black eyes shimmering. Gallow’s craggy mouth closed around the cake, and immediately its features sunk into bliss. Oz smiled and pushed the rest of the cake towards it, turning away as the young imp indulged in sweet heaven.

The demon general scanned the crowd, making out a few more people. A girl with interesting tattoos, stony calm even against her friend’s overwhelming charisma. Someone decked in dull grey armor that had accrued numerous food stains. A boy who seemed to be passionately krumping. Still, no sign of Arcanus, nor the target Oz had assigned him to.

It was disconcerting, Oz realized, to be around so many people without his right-hand imp. Arcanus had been there from the very beginning, ever since the two of them had made their way into that desert, sand sweeping the bones behind them.

The target emerged from the crowd, startling him, and Oz blinked away the memory as the fluffy figure approached. After a full day, Loiden Antwink was still grinning in wonder, and Oz had been relieved to find his grin genuine. The general turned in his seat, doing his best to look properly demonic as he approached.

“Little Glee! So nice to see you again.”

“Well, a little demon told me to come meet you,” Loiden said, Arcanus popping up from his shoulder.

“That it did,” Oz agreed, though his voice slowed with a dark tone.

“Little Glee,” he began, steepling his fingers to begin his mastermind, “this...General Guyepp. His stories wouldn’t have happened to include a march, by any chance?”

Loiden’s smile grew from ear to ear. “He had seven. But there’s one that I think fits you perfectly.”
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Terian805 says...



Esedra:

I’m atop the back of Teon except Eldrad is not with me. I’m flying over the broad expanse of the desert. The sun beats fiercely down, and I can feel the roar of the wind in my hair.
Far below, a great column of mounted soldiers thunder across the sand, obviously heading towards the distance where the sun seems to be setting, casting a lazy orange glow across the sand.
The soldiers are garbed in loose and flapping, nomadic attire, whilst their horses are bred for war, muscular and powerful, with weapons hung upon them.
In the distance, there seems to be a rolling cloud of dark sand, black and obscure, which begins to stream forwards at unnatural speed, and it is towards this cloud where the soldiers are heading straight for.


I found myself wide awake in my dormitory, sprawled upon my bed. It was obviously a dreary morning, rain thundering down upon the window next to me.

I somehow found the blankets spread across the floor, and that I was also it a fit of sweating.

That was one hell of a strange dream, but it wasn’t frightening as such. Why I had broken into a cold sweat was beyond me.

Strange. A mystery for another time.

I rolled out from bed, half dressed, and pulled on a shirt that I found nearby. I made my way out to a balcony that jutted out from my room, where I could look beyond towards the wide expanse of the capital, and where the rainstorm had let up. There was a clammy smell of rainwater on stone.
I stared upon the horizon, watching dark clouds writhe in the distance, and the city begin to stir with life. This was my home now, and my experiences here had gone well, to say the least.

“Enjoying the view?” Someone said next to me.

I shrieked in surprise, and stumbled backwards, steadying myself on the balustrade.

There was a guy crouching on a stone gargoyle next to me, with nutty brown skin and hair. He was dressed in a pale blue tunic, with running shoes at the bottom of his dark legs. He was grinning at my surprise.

“What the hell are you doing?” I growled.

“I like to sit out here in the mornings.” He replied. “Or at least I’ve decided since I arrived here yesterday. I reckon I’m going to enjoy scaring people like you as well.”

“And you are....?”

“Jamal Gordon, at your service. Call me ‘The Runner’ And your name?”

“Esedra Omar’ti.” I replied, wondering why I had replied. “And I think I’ll pass on that. I was enjoying my morning before you burst upon me.”

“Maybe you were.” Jamal said, obviously annoyed I’d rejected his nickname. “But I reckon you need something to do. You wanna climb up to the roof? The view is even better up there.”

Without waiting for my answer, he hopped up from his perch, gusts of wind rising about him, and propelled himself from handhold to handhold, reaching the roof in about seven seconds.

I was about to go back inside, before I thought, “What the hell, I’ll head up.”

Back home, I’d had some experience at climbing, yet I was nowhere near as skilled as Jamal. The next three minutes, I spent hauling myself between stone handholds, puffing with exertion, and wondering why I had agreed to do this.

I finally reached the top, to see Jamal smiling down at me. He offered me a hand and I didn’t accept it. I only pulled myself up onto the prism shaped roof, and followed him over to the other side.

I had to admit, the view was impressive of Battle School, below us the dormitories stretched for ages, and the towers all linked together in one huge mass of twisting metal.

“Not bad climbing.” Jamal commented. “Could be better though.”

“And you’re a Wind Mage right.” I said. “So you know these things.”

“That’s right.” He responded, sticking his chin out proudly, like he’d just won an award. “I’m going to study lightning magic too.”

“I knew a Wind Mage once.” I reflected. “He was too excitable, and he annoyed me, so I punched him in the face.”

Jamal laughed. “Fair enough. I know for sure that I’m not the only Wind Mage here though, so I guess you’re going to have to get used to us.”

“Do you know how close I am to throwing you off of this roof right now?”

“Pretty close, I reckon. But I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh no.” I found myself smirking. “I don’t think you would.”

Jamal laughed again. He seemed to find me endlessly amusing.

“OK then, you seem pretty sure of yourself. You’re what....let me guess...an Earth Mage?”

I nodded.

“I wouldn’t have expected that. A pretty redhead like you. I always imagined Earth Mages as big, muscular, tattooed thugs. But I suppose I should have guessed, by the fact you don’t seem to give a crap about anything.”

“Well if that includes you.” I said acidly. “Then sure.”

“You did climb up here with me.” Jamal responded. “So you must kind of give a crap about me.”

I didn’t have an answer to that.

Jamal lay back on the roof. “But it’s interesting right. How people’s magic powers effect their appearance and their character. I mean, I saw a guy yesterday who had green hair. Green hair. He also looked constantly on edge, like the entire world was against him. I’ll be interested to see what kind of magic he uses.”

I didn’t have a clue who he was talking about.

“Well I suppose that we’ll see at the entrance exam won’t we.” I said.

“Ah yes.” He smiled. “The infamous entrance exam. I’m sure we’ll see some interesting magical displays there. Do you have any idea what you’re going to be doing?”

“I guess.” I replied. “But you’re going to be impressed. That’s for sure.”

“Ooh self confidence. I like that...” He began, before his eyes fixed upon something ahead of us in Battle school. They then widened enormously.
Winds rose about us, and Jamal drifted upwards from where he sat, pulling me over the side of the slanted roof, where I landed painfully with a thump.

I was about to protest, when he placed a finger on his lips, and gestured ahead of us, where I glanced over the roof.

There was a tower nearby, it looked no different to the others of Battle School, ramshackle and dull as ever, yet at the top of it there was an open balcony, and upon the balcony stood a man.
He was kind of regular looking. Nice clothes, dark hair, muscular, tattooed arms, and a kind of mournful look about him. Could he be a teacher? I had no idea, but Jamal certainly seemed scared of him.

Soon enough however, he made his way back into his tower, and out of our sight. Jamal breathed a sigh of relief next to me.

“To think we were talking about strange magic, and then we catch a glimpse of the famous Donovan.”

“Donovan?” The name seemed to ring a bell, but I couldn’t quite place it.

“Yeah. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of him?”

“I suppose I live to far South.” I said, maybe too harshly.

“Well every Middlelander, including me, knows his name. He said to be the greatest mage ever, and that he’s the Child of Ishmael. It’s said that he can draw power from the very colours themselves.”

“And he’s here at Battle School?” I questioned, confused.

“Of course. This was where he was trained. It’s said that he went into battle against the warlord Crucin when the School was attacked years ago. He almost defeated him. Now he’s a recluse here at Battle School, yet he has a famed temper. If he’d seen us up here, we’d be dead.”

He must have seen my reaction at the word ‘Crucin.’
“You know that name, I’m guessing?”

I nodded. “My family has...dealings with his armies.”

“Your family has dealings with Crucin?” He shook his head incredulously. “You fascinate me, Esedra Omar’ti. I’d like to know more about you.”

“Perhaps you will, if I feel inclined.”

Jamal laughed, and jumped to his feet. Followed by me. “Well now I’ve given you a history lesson, I suppose we’d both best get ready for breakfast, and the first entrance exam. See you around huh?”
He gave me a mock salute, and then ran to the edge of the roof, and threw himself off towards the rest of the dormitories, moaning winds throwing him forwards.

It was an impressive jump to his dormitory door down below. No less than fifty feet, and one which I’d struggle to have made even with Black Sand. However he made it alright and I saw him pull open his door, before making his way inside and disappearing.

He was skilled with his magic. That was obvious. It was good to have some competition.

I made my way to the edge of the roof, and began to climb down. Perhaps I would meet Alarin and Killian at breakfast.

The entrance exam however, I was quivering with anticipation for. Time to show Battle School what I could do.
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TinkerTwaggy says...



Loiden – Get: Schemin’ tendencies!


Loiden drummed his fingers on the table, lost in his thoughts as he remembered the “Operation: Seven Marches” story that featured the military marches and presentations General Guyepp performed with his demons. He let out a nostalgic sigh. It was one of the first ones his father had showed him, and easily one of the ones he had re-read the most.

"Little Glee?"

Loiden gazed back up, realizing that Oz and his wonderful imp were staring at him with curious eyes. “Oh, right!” He exclaimed, chuckling as he scratched the back of his head with an embarrassed hand. “Sorry, sorry, just thinkin’. So, so! That march. I’ll tell you what Guyepp did exactly.”

Oz beamed, then sat more comfortably on his chair, gesturing for Loiden to go on.

“I remember that one – ‘the Shadow Sentry March’ – because it started in a really flashy way.” Loiden put both of his hands in front of him. “He put his hands like this, then raised them super high, with his demons rising from the ground as if they followed the motion. Then he spread his arms on the side like this,” Loiden continued, performing the motion, “and the demons would actually spread out to the side behind him, without even moving their feet. It was as if they were super obedient ghosts, and then they’d only start attacking or marching forward when he did it, he didn’t even need to speak any more than one or two words.”

Oz gazed at the table, then muttered, “So, they appear far more menacing, far more organized and far more invincible-looking than they are in reality… fascinating…”

“That’s the idea!” Loiden continued. “Theming, introduction, and orchestration. Your march should have a main idea behind it, and either send a message to your crowd, or y’know, show that you’re no pushover because your numbers… Well, as Guyepp would say: ‘We are weaklings alone, but unity gives us might – and for you, our numbers are TOO great!’” Loiden giggled. “Man, do I love that catchphrase of his. Dad was really good at telling the stories with the right tone.”

Oz put a hand to his chin, visibly concentrating as hard as he could. “Don’t worry, Little Glee, I am still very much aware of your words, but I am… Trying to picture what my version of that wonderful march should be like…”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine!” Loiden assured as he gazed at his plate, realizing that he had finished eating a long time ago. “But don’t worry, it’s normal that you need to think about it. Still, I’m surprised you’d asked me for help on that – I thought you already had a plan of your own.”

Oz gazed at Loiden, a devious grin on the face. “Oh, but I do have a plan of my own, Little Glee. However, I noticed that you happened to be quite the creative fellow, so I’d rather use it as a source of inspiration instead of only sticking to what I know. I may be an outstanding, unstoppable force in the making, but learning is still useful.”

Loiden nodded. “Agreed! And that’s totally fine, I think everyone should do it. Or… to some degree, I guess.” he rose from his seat, taking his plate in his hands. “Anyways! Gotta go revise a few things here and there. If you’ve got anything else to ask, I’ll probably be in my room. Good luck, Oz!”

Oz and his imp waved cheerfully at Loiden. “Good talk, Little Glee! Good luck to you too.”

Still grinning, Loiden turned around and went on his way, putting the plate atop the many others next to an abandoned bench at the edge of the cafeteria.

"Move."

Spoiler! :
Mystic Mantis
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A hand holding another plate appeared in Loiden’s line of sight. He turned back and, gazing up, discovering the hand’s owner. It was a girl, older than he was. She was wearing a sleeveless dark green short dress, with pants of the same color below it, covering her legs. The girl was also wearing heavy black boots attached with belts around them, and she had short black hair, with a rebellious large stride of it covering a chunk of one of her brown eyes. The rest of her hair was tied behind her in a messy ponytail. Contrasting with the severity of her face, the girl was wearing a gorgeous flower with pink petals and golden dots on the inside.

“You could at least say ‘please.’” Loiden replied, faking a pout but obeying anyway. The girl placed her place among the others, and he noticed that the hand shook almost uncontrollably. A second plate rested in her other hand, which was shaking just as wildly. “Um, Miss?”

Mantis.”

Loiden nodded. “Mantis. What’s the second plate for, and you sure you don’t want help to carry it?”

“Are you trying to act like a mindless gentleman?”

Loiden giggled. “I think I’m a bit too young for that. Besides, I don’t need to be a gentleman to like seeing people smile.”

“Look, kid, that’s cute and all, but I don’t need your–” Mantis interrupted herself as she brought her first hand to the corner of the plate she still had, accidentally pushing it on the side.

Hoy!” Loiden exclaimed as his Ielmars Tail briefly appeared to adjust the position of the plate, thus allowing Mantis to catch it before the food resting on it spilled itself on the clean floor. Mantis jerked her head back at Loiden as the tail disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, with Loiden’s spiky hair retrieving their normal form as he smiled. She narrowed her eyes, staring at him. Suspicion? Interest? Loiden wasn’t sure.

“…Carry this.” Mantis finally said as she handed her plate to Loiden. “And follow me.”
Loiden’s smile grew larger as he followed Mantis outside of the cafeteria, plate in hand, unconcerned with the many whispered phrases around him. “You’re used to giving orders, aren’t you?” he pondered innocently, his feet light as he climbed the stairs leading to the rooms behind Mantis. “What’s your name?” she replied, not even turning back. “Something tells me you wouldn’t like me calling you ‘kid’ all the time.”

“I don’t mind, actually. Little Glee, at your service!”

“Careful with that expression.” Mantis warned, a hint of playfulness in her tone. “Keep using it, and I’ll only think of you as a servant supposed to obey my every command.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s an oath.”

Loiden giggled once more. “If that’s an oath I’m supposed to fear and respect, then we need your full name, some titles here, godly mentions there, and we’ll be good to go!”
Mantis turned her head towards Loiden, a mischievous smile stuck on the face. “We’ll get to that part later. After all, you didn’t tell me your actual name.”

“Well, neither did you.”

Mantis blinked. “…Interesting.” she concluded as they continued their way through the corridors of Battle School. Carefully holding the plate in his hands, Loiden decided that Mantis was fun, for some inexplicable reason. She eventually stopped in front of a wood brown-colored door, like all the others in the school. Turning back, Mantis stared at Loiden once more. He was still grinning, gazing back at her, almost as if expecting another order.

“You can put the food inside.” Mantis said as she opened the door for him. “…Thanks.”

“And that, was all I wanted to hear.” Loiden replied lightly. “You’re welcome!” then, he took a step forward into the room and was greeted with a monster lunging at him with a pair of bladed arms. “Hoy!” Loiden immediately shouted as his face steeled itself, all traces of his casual light-hearted joy gone. He raised his head, staring at his attacker. It was a giant, insectoid bipedal creature that resembled a living skeleton with a half-moon, disc shaped head. It was staring down at Loiden with two, small, forward facing eyes, and its thin arms with overlapping segments ended with a single, pointed and sharp-looking claw. Both had been stopped inches away from Loiden’s shoulders, thanks to the Ielmars Tail that imprisoned them within its grip. Its entire body was of a light red color, save for its white claws and gray eyes.

Ahoy.” An electric aura appeared around Loiden as his Ielmars Tail grew thicker. The creature in front of him pushed on its legs, trying to force its arms out of their position. Loiden felt a heavy pressure around his entire tail. “Ahoy, Ielmars.” Loiden’s aura intensified as sparks appeared all around his body, while his tail grew thicker once more. “IelCom: Puls.” Loiden continued. The creature was pushed closer to Loiden’s as the Ielmars Tail twisted itself to make the shape of a tight spring. Then, a pulsing ball of electricity travelled through the tail until it reached its tip. The Ielmars Tail violently unbent itself, throwing the creature against the wall of the large room, electrifying it after the impact.

Loiden speed-walked towards the bed on his left and placed the plate there before turning his head back to the creature. “IelCom: Ligo.” Loiden let his Tail wrap itself around the creature. Then, a curved blade suddenly appeared next to Loiden’s eyes before placing itself against his neck.

“Enough playing around, Little Glee.” Mantis whispered in Loiden’s ears. “Don’t move. Door is closed, so no need to dash towards it. Now tell your tail to let go of my Familiar.”

Loiden locked his gaze on the equally emotionless look stuck on Mantis’ face, and they stared at each other for several, long seconds. Then, Loiden closed his eyes and let out a sigh. His spiky hair came back to normal. At the same time, his Ielmars Tail disappeared, freeing the creature as it did. When Loiden opened his eyes again, the glitter of mischievous happiness the world was used to see appeared yet again, and he chuckled to himself. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your Familiar, Mantis?” he inquired, visibly unconcerned by the scythe-shaped blade that was still against his neck. Gazing on the other side, he noticed that Mantis’ entire arm had become the blade. “Woah, that’s so cool!” he exclaimed. “How d’you do that?”

Mantis frowned. Very slowly, she let the pressure of her blade against Loiden’s neck increase. His smile slightly faded as drops of blood dropped on said blade. “Um… Can you tell me what all of this is about, now?” he added in a little voice.

“Fear, and respect.” Mantis replied. “And you’re not showing any of the two. I want to know why.”

“I respect everyone.” Loiden declared. “I don’t really understand, but… I don’t think I should fear you.”

“Oh, there’s not much to understand, Little Glee. I was toying around with you. I just wanted to see how you’d react to my little surprise. I do that to all the idiots that think they’re supposed to treat me like a defenseless princess. If it wasn’t obvious enough, I hate that.”

Loiden nodded. “What else?”

“Your power, obviously. I didn’t expect it to be so fast. Nor did I expect you to use it so well.”

Loiden grinned. “Thank you! Was it exciting?”

Mantis raised an eyebrow. “…Let’s say intriguing.”

“That’s it!” Loiden exclaimed, eyes widened. “That’s the one! Intrigued. I think that’s why I’m not really scared. All of this, the Familiar, the blade, your arm, and the plate, all of this is so… Intriguing! I just want to know more! Hey, hey, wanna trade?”
Mantis blinked. “Trade… What?”

“Information, inspiration, everything! I can tell you all about my Ielmars Tail, but then, can I know about your blades and your pet?”
Mantis sighed and removed her blade from its position, giving a thoughtful gaze to her unusual guest. With a flash of light, the blade turned back into a normal arm, which she put to her chin thoughtfully. “…Show me your power again.”

Loiden pouted. “Oi. Magic word.” he demanded.

Mantis crouched in front of Loiden, her eyes fierce again. “Or I could just summon my blade again and give you a nice scar.” she suggested. “Or maybe have Skrill over there do that for me. Any preference?”

Electric sparks suddenly appeared all over Loiden’s body, and his Ielmars Tail flung itself to Mantis’ encounter, imprisoning her neck within its grip. A new grin stuck itself on his face, perfect contrast to the surprised, wide-eyed expression Mantis had. “Got you!” Loiden exclaimed. Then, his own eyes widened as he turned then towards the side of his neck, where Mantis’ bladed-arm had appeared once more. “…oh.” Loiden continued. “Fast…”

“…You clearly need your AMot to use this spell.” Mantis commented. “How did you do that? Did you think it?”

“My… ammo?”

“That’s how you pronounce it, yes, but I meant: Abbreviated Mot. AMot. In other words, a spellbound word or sentence shortened to an acronym or a made-up word that allows the user to cast a spell. You don’t even know that?”

Loiden put an embarrassed hand behind his spiky hair. “I… Dad didn’t have time to teach me the full terminology, so, I kind of taught myself most of what I know.” He brightened up a bit as he recalled Mantis’ question. “Oh, but no, I didn’t think it! I said the word. When I asked you for the ‘magic word’, I said oi. It’s just a disguise for Hoy. And the weakest… AMot of the series!”

“You have a series?”

Loiden nodded. “Oi is the fastest. Hoy is slightly less fast, but makes my tail easier to control. Ahoy gives it a power boost, and Ahoy, Ielmars gives it its full size, power and shape-manipulation. The more I stack them, though, the more I switch to my… Um… Battle…self?” he pointed at his spiky hair. “It’s when my hair is spiky like that and I become super serious.” As he said that, his hair turned back to normal, and his tail promptly disappeared. “…But since I used Oi, Ielmars doesn’t stay for long if I don’t quickly stack my AMot on top of it.”

Mantis nodded and stood up, her bladed-arm turning back into her regular one. “…Interesting.” She whispered. She walked up to the plate Loiden had put on her bed and took an apple, offering it to Loiden. He took it in his hands, smiling happily. “For your trouble.” Mantis told him.

“Are we going to play again, some time?” Loiden inquired.

“…Eventually, Little Glee. Eventually. Although, not after you leave this place and let me fix that wall you threw Skrill into.”

“Oh, right! Sorry for that, Just a bad reflex.” Loiden exclaimed as he moved towards the door and opened it. “So… ‘til we meet again?” he asked, turning his head towards Mantis one last time. “Come back here and wait for me when you’re done with your exam.” she declared. “I could use a creative battle partner.”

“Glad to be of help, then! Bye, Mantis!” Loiden giggled. “…You’re fun.” and with that, he closed the door and walked back to his own room, humming happily as he did. Upon reaching his own room – the disposition of which was exactly similar to Mantis’ – he jumped on his bed, pulled out the artbook from the bag next to it and began drawing a new series of stickmen equipped with scythe-shaped blades. Maybe he should consider getting one of those for his Ielmars Tail. As he giggled to himself and started his new drawings, little excited sparks appeared behind his back, a silent memento of the interesting time he had passed with his new acquaintance.
"Is there a limit to how much living I can live with my life? How will I know if I've gone too far?
And why did I spend my life savings on sunglasses for a whale?
I shall find the answers... to these questions."





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MariaRowlands says...



Scarlett Jones



Scarlett looks around the airship in awe. Having grown up in the forest, she had never seen one of these up close. Clutching her Amethyst pendant in her right hand for security, she stood from her seat and unsteadily walked over to a door. Knocking once softly, she opened it as quietly as possible and snuck a look into the cockpit.

"Scarlett Jones if you do not get back in your seat there will be serious trouble." Joe, the local mage that found her, scolded.

"Come on Joe. I’m BORED! And you refused to let me bring my collection of rocks to play with. I want something to do. I can only stare out a window for so long before i go mad. Can I at least explore?" Her right hand clutched tighter around her pendant, unknowingly transferring a little magical energy into the crystal.

Joe sighed and patted the co-pilot seat. “Sit. Let’s talk about the day we met.” Scarlett obeyed with a scowl and a slight grumble. “Now now. Don’t be like that. I remember it like it was yesterday. Oh wait, it was yesterday.”

~FLASHBACK~

“SCARLETT!” The portly jeweller came rushing from behind her stall towards the red haired crystal gatherer. “Scarlett! Have you anymore of those diamonds my dear? I am almost out due to high demand!” she panted breathlessly, “Please. I need some more before the end of today.”

“Jane, those are the hardest to find….” The jeweller whimpered as if pained “But you are lucky I found 15 large ones this past week.” Scarlett pulled off her bag and took out the 15 diamond geodes “Consider this a favour. I mightn’t be in town for a while after today. I’m going to explore a cave system I found towards the western horizon. When I get back I might want to collect that favour. And I will hopefully have new crystals for you.”

I wish she would back off already. Those were my money for the trip. Scarlett mentally grumbled as she helped Jane carry the geodes back to the jewellery stall. After securing them and getting some cash in return, Scarlett dashed further up the street towards the Bakery stall.

"Miss Jones! I wasn’t expecting you for at least another week! Has your supply run out so soon?" The head baker scratched the back of his head and looked back at the stone oven.

"No. I’m just stocking up for a trip to a cave system I found west of here. It’s about an hour hike and I am planning on exploring it for a few days before returning to my treehouse." She looked towards the eastern horizon to see the sun starting to rise. "Can I grab four stone rolls and one sour dough please Theo? I need to get going soon and still need to go to Nancy’s stall. She got in some lychee and mango. I want to take some with me."

Theo let out a bark-like laugh. "You will never change will you Miss Jones. I pray that nobody takes away your explorer spirit. Those rolls will be waiting for you here in twenty minutes. Hurry and get your fruits before the other people get them."

With a maniac grin, Scarlett spun and ran across to Nancy’s Fruits. The only stall in town to sell fruits collected from the mainland. The stall wasn’t open just yet but that wouldn’t stop Scar from heading behind to where she found Nancy herself cataloguing all the latest produce.

"Hey Nanc." Nancy jumped at the sound of her voice. "How’s it going?"

"Oh Scar! You need to stop scaring me like that! What are you getting today? It’s going to get busy because we have Custards Apples and Mangos today." Nancy bustled about to finish cataloguing.

"Glad you asked! I’m going on a trip to a cave system in the west so I need a big bag of Lycees and 4 Mango. Also a punnet of mixed berries. No Blueberries though." clapping her hands in a smartarse manner, Scarlett turned and made to walk out the front.

"Not on your nelly Scar. Money then waiting. Or you can bring me back a large Emerald Geode as payment." Nancy tapped her foot impatiently as Scarlett tipped half her coins onto the counter. "And you can help me pack your order because it’s so large. You can put together the berry pack. Because otherwise a Blueberry might just find its way in there."

"This is payback for scaring you a dozen times over the past week isn’t it?" Scarlett grabbed the nearest container and poured in a handful of raspberry.

"It might be. Now get a wriggle on. I have to start to open up in 10 minutes." Nancy turned to gather up the lychee and mangoes while also handing assorted berries to Scarlet.

Thirty minutes later, her bag half full of fresh fruits and bread, she said goodbye to her friends before setting off on a half day hike to the caves.

Six hours and one mango later, Scarlett finally came to the small opening that was the mouth of the cave system. Checking her pack for all her supplies and refilling her water skin from a nearby stream, Scarlett readied herself to enter the caves, not realising that her every move was being watched. She grabbed a nearby stick that was long enough to use as a hiking stick and wrapped a metre length of scrap material around one end and stuck it into a sap filled hole she had created in a nearby tree when she had found the caves, before lighting it and going into the cave entrance.

Waving the torch around slowly, Scarlett assessed the cavern, making mental notes on its characteristics before leaving a mark near the first tunnel entrance with a diamond shiv. She followed the tunnel, marking the walls every few metres to help her find the way back until she came to an underground river with dozens of crystals on the other side. Jamming the makeshift torch between two rocks and tossing her pack onto the other side of the river, Scarlett made an effort to swim across to get some of the crystals. She got about half way when she realised something was very wrong. The surface of the river appeared to be calm and it felt slow when she first started but the centre of it was rather fast and was dragging her down. Scarlett truly started panicking when she felt her feet leave the bottom of the riverbed. Despite swimming against the current, Scarlett made it across to the other side and collapsed next to her pack.

“Quiznak. How am I going to get back?” Scarlett groaned as she rolled onto her side to get up and search around the crystal clusters for an opening. “This is impossible. I swear to the stars that if I can get out of here I will bring someone with me next time.”

Hours passed and the search on her side was fruitless. However, unbeknownst to Scarlett, someone had and was making their way towards her by the second. She had just finished eating her berry pack and last lychee when some rocks fell into the river from the ceiling. Looking around and filling the rest of her bag with crystals to take home for Nancy and Jane, Scarlett prepared for a possible cave in that would hopefully form a bridge. When the ceiling finally caved, a man fell through with it.

“Run! I can’t hold the river back for too long!” Heeding his words, she dashed across, unknowingly leaving a trail of small amethysts around wherever her feet would land.

As Scarlett passed the man she grabbed his hand and dragged him back the way she came, all the way to the entrance. Once she stopped to catch her breath she started chuckling, which then turned into full blown hysterical laughter.

“Stars above!” She cried out, clutching her stomach and pendant, trying to calm down. “How did you find me? I thought these caves hadn’t been discovered yet!”

“Stupid girl. I followed you. Nobody had found these caves before you. And now nobody will enter those caves again.” He looked at her curiously before turning away. “How come you can’t control your magic child? You left a gem trail.”

Scarlett, now completely calm, just simply blinked at him in surprise. “I don’t know what you are talking about sir. By the way, my name is Scarlett. What is yours?”

“Joe. I’m a local mage. And you my dear Scarlett have a lot of magical potential if you could control it better.” Getting up and walking to the cave opening, he grabbed a rock and smashed it open. “This rock is completely normal. So is every other one on here. Break five open and see what is inside.”

Puzzled, Scarlett did as she was asked. Every single rock she broke held a geode. He is clearly wrong. However there has never been a single rock that I’ve broken open that didn’t have a geode of sorts. She turned to face him.

“Say you are right. Will you teach me to control it?”

“I’ll do something better. I will enrol you into a special school. In fact I am planning on leaving for there tomorrow. Come with me and you will learn more there than you ever will from me.”

~END FLASHBACK~

Scarlett looked out the window at the humongous building they were landing in front of.
“Welcome to Battle School Scar.”
Whelp. I can’t back out now. Scarlett gulped in fear.
May The Blood of my Enemies Flow Like Rivers to the Sea








I don't think so alliyah, but don't quote me on that.
— TheBlueCat