Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She had to admit, Trista was a pretty town. Even though it was only a short train ride from the Imperial capital, it had a cozy air to it, instead of the hustle and bustle of a place like Heimdallr. It was almost enough to make her feel like she was back home.

But only almost. The trim, athletic young woman was not Erebonian, rather a visitor from the neighboring Kingdom of Liberl. Nor was she a mere tourist, as the wooden stuff slung across her back proclaimed. At barely eighteen years of age, Estelle Bright was the youngest A-rank bracer the Liberl branch of the Guild had ever produced.

Which made her a very unusual sight indeed. From what she'd heard, the Erebonian branch had all but closed up shop completely since that incident with the Jester jaeger corps a couple years back. According to her father, there was still a Guild office way in the southeast, but for the most part operations had largely ceased.

“Looks cozy,” the young man beside her remarked. Joshua Bright, Estelle's adopted brother (and more recently boyfriend), was also a bracer, but it was there that the similarities ended. Where Estelle wore her brown hair long, in twin tails, Joshua's was black and cut short. He tended to be reserved, though he'd mellowed over the last couple of years, in contrast to Estelle's energetic nature. The short swords he wore at his waist were practically an extension of himself, and occasionally one could still glimpse a haunted look in his amber eyes.

The younger girl between and slightly behind them looked normal on the surface. On the petite side, with short pink hair and a seemingly cheerful disposition, the newest addition to the Bright family had the air of someone's beloved kid sister. Estelle, however, knew there was far more to thirteen-year-old Renne than met the eye.

I'm just glad she's learning to relax a little. “So, any idea just what we're doing here?” Estelle asked of the world at large. “I mean, yeah, Olivier wanted us to give a couple of guest lectures at Thors Military Academy, but there's no way that's all there is too it. Not after that mess back home.”

Joshua shrugged. “We'll just have to ask him when we see him. All we have is the one letter, remember.” He looked past her, to an old but stately building a few arge east of the station. “Think that's our contact.”

Sure looked like it. Medium height, purple-red hair, an aura of combined mischief and danger. Estelle had only met Sara Valestein once before, but there was no denying the older woman had presence. One of the strongest people in the Empire, though from what Olivier had let slip there was some even more dangerous.

“Well, if it isn't Estelle and Joshua,” Sara said with a grin. “Haven't seen you two since before old Blood and Iron clamped down on the Guild here.”

Okay, she's a little too much like Schera. “Nice to see a friendly face,” Estelle said, shaking the older woman's hand. “You know why we're here?”

“I know you're going to be talking about the Guild some, but that's it,” Sara said. “Anything else is above my pay grade.”

“Figures,” Estelle muttered. “Ever since that almost-invasion. . . .” She shook her head. “Olivier—sorry, Prince Olivert—said we'd be staying in a special building off-campus.”

Sara's answering smile was a bit lopsided. “There's some extra space in Class VII's dorm; we figured that'd be the most convenient place. There's just one thing.” She looked from Joshua to Renne. “The dorm's caretaker is one of your old . . . colleagues.”

Her meaning was all too plain. “Which one?” Joshua asked tightly.

“Sharon Kreuger,” Sara said. “Well, she says we've never crossed paths, but I'm not buying it for an instant. I'd bet a year's supply of beer she's Enforcer Number IX.”

Joshua took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “The Severing Chains,” he murmured. “I don't know her very well; she was hired by the Reinford Company around when Cassius Bright adopted me. Renne?”

“I only met her a couple of times,” Renne replied, shaking her head. “Couldn't tell you why she's here.”

An Enforcer of Ouroboros. Wonderful. Estelle recalled their antics in Liberl all too well. There was no telling what the Society's purpose in Erebonia might be, but one thing was certain: it was bad. She wondered for a moment if they were in cahoots with Osborne, then dismissed the idea. They'd thought such a deal was in the works during the crisis two years past, until it became clear Osborne had been using Ouroboros for his own ends. Besides, the Blood and Iron Chancellor needed no help to be evil.

“There's word of at least one other Enforcer in Erebonia right now,” Sara went on. “Some of my students ran into Bleublanc in Bareahard.”

Estelle groaned, burying her face in her hands. “That opera fetish maniac! Why did he have to show up now!?”

“I wish I knew,” Sara said. “Anyway, on a brighter note, let me introduce you to a couple of members of Class VII.” She waved a hand at two boys who'd just stepped out of their dorm, one dark-haired, the other blond with a strong air of refinement. “Class VII mixes nobles and commoners; these are two of our nobles, Rean Schwarzer of Ymir and Jusis Albarea from Bareahard. Guys, Estelle and Joshua Bright of the Liberl Bracer Guild, and their companion Renne.”

Though not an expert on the ins and outs of Erebonian society, Estelle knew the name Albarea. One of the Four Great Houses, highest in the Empire short of the Imperial family, and not exactly the nicest people, judging by what Olivier had said of the Duke. On the other hand, Jusis seemed friendly enough, greeting them in a reserved but polite fashion.

Rean was another story. Estelle knew his name as well, but from a completely different source. “Anelace says hi,” she said with a grin.

Groaning in a mixture of annoyance and resignation, Rean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'm sure she does. Honestly, I'm surprised she even remembers me.”

“She said you're pretty hard to forget,” Estelle said, “and that she hopes you get past whatever was bothering you.”

Apparently intrigued, Jusis lifted his eyebrows. “Might I ask who you're talking about?”

Rean sighed. “Anelace Elfead. She's my master's granddaughter, a fellow student of the Eight Leaves, and a bracer. And certifiably nuts.”

A smirk played about the blond noble's lips. “Indeed. I should like to meet this girl at some point.”

“Careful what you wish for, Lord Jusis,” Estelle said with a laugh. “She can be a bit of a handful.”

“No doubt.” Jusis waved a hand. “At any rate, you need not address me as 'Lord'; Class VII recognizes no distinction between noble and commoner, and I get far too much bowing and scraping in Bareahard in any case.”

Sara nodded approvingly. “We've had some friction, but so far things are working out nicely. Aaaanyway. . . .” She smiled a bit devilishly. “Rean, why don't you give our guests a tour of the campus?”

From the look on his face, Rean had half-expected the politely-phrased command. “Sure, why not. I've got some time on my hands.” His lip twitching in amused exasperation, he gestured for the Liberlian party to follow. “Thors is at the north end of town.”

Rean had long ago discarded any specific expectations for his time at Thors beyond the obvious military training. Meeting his dubiously sane homeroom teacher, the formation of Class VII, their field studies, all of it had thrown what he'd thought military training meant out the window.

Winding up as a tour guide still came out of nowhere.

I guess I should've expected it. Not the weirdest thing I've had to do. “Here we are, Thors Military Academy,” Rean said. “Right ahead is the main building, with the classrooms, faculty offices, and suchlike.” He pointed off to the west. “That's the auditorium; doesn't get used much, mainly for important events.”

“So, do you put on plays and stuff?” Estelle asked. “With, oh, boys and girls switching roles?”

Rean frowned, wondering what in Aidios's name she was talking about. Then it hit him, and he felt a block of ice in his stomach. Note to self: Do not let her meet Dorothee under any circumstances! “I don't really know,” he said carefully. He really didn't like the look on Renne's face. “It's only been open once since I arrived in March, for the opening ceremony.” He coughed. “Anyway, to the east you can see the Student Union building. Cafeteria is on the first floor, second has the Student Council president's office and a few club rooms.”

He coughed, hoping to head things off, and led them around the back. “On this side, there's the engineering building, where practical orbal work goes on. In the center,” he pushed the door open, “is the gymnasium. A lot of physical classes are held here, of course, and the Swimming and Fencing Clubs meet here.”

Now that Rean thought of it, he remembered the Swimming Club had something going on just then. He stepped inside, and sure enough, Laura was just diving into the pool. As usual, he couldn't help watching, captivated by her athletic grace. It honestly made him wonder why he hadn't heard about any suitors.

A soft chuckle snapped him out of his daze. “Your girlfriend?”

Rean stiffened, blood rushing to his face. He turned to see Renne grinning at him in a manner disturbingly reminiscent of Vivi. Just what he didn't need, another prankster. One he was pretty sure was highly capable in combat at that.

He cleared his throat. “Friend, yeah, girlfriend, no. Laura S. Arseid, Class VII's third and last noble student. She's the daughter of Viscount Victor S. Arseid, AKA the Radiant Blademaster. Swimming seems to be her favorite activity when she's not practicing with her monster of a sword.”

Now Estelle and Joshua were giving him knowing looks. Great, as if there weren't enough rumors about him and Laura as it was. When did I get to be the weirdness magnet?

Recalling how preoccupied Laura was after returning from Bryonia Island, Rean thought it best if she not have to deal with visitors just yet. He led the trio out and to the west, to the edge of the academy field. As luck would have it, the lacrosse club had a training session going; he could see Theresia, an upper-class second year (from Bareahard, according to Alisa) talking with a first year he didn't recognize.

“The academy field,” he said. “A lot of our combat training goes on there, and as you can see the lacrosse club uses it as well; the blond girl closest to us is my classmate Alisa Reinford.”

“Reinford?” Estelle stepped forward a bit, eyes alight with interest. “As in the Reinford Group, Erebonia's industrial giant?”

Rean nodded. “That's the one; she's the daughter of the company chairman, though bringing it up is usually a bad idea.” He pointed to the stables. “For obvious reasons, the Riding Club spends a lot of time on the field. Jusis is a member, so you can ask him about it if you're curious.”

Joshua made a meditative sound. “You know, for all the military focus, Thors is a lot like Jenis.”

“Sure is,” Estelle agreed. “I can just see Kloe being right at home here.”

It was Rean's turn to be puzzled. “Jenis?”

“Really big-time school back home,” Estelle explained. “Just outside the port of Ruan in the west.”

Rean snapped his fingers. “Now I remember. I read about it a couple of times in the Imperial Chronicle's foreign news section.” He smiled. “I'd like to visit Liberl sometime, assuming an Erebonian noble wouldn't cause too much of a stir anyway.”

Estelle waved a hand. “Eh, don't worry about it. One of our best friends is an Erebonian big shot; problem isn't that he's Erebonian, it's that he's nuts.”

“Yeah, we've got our share of crazies,” Rean conceded with a laugh. “Lot of them right here at Thors.”

He showed them through the main building and introduced them to a few notable students, such as Angelica Rogner (who eyed Estelle with disturbing interest) and Towa Herschel. Overall they seemed far more relaxed than he would have expected of Liberlian tourists.

“So,” he said an hour later. “You'll be staying at our dorm?”

“That's what your instructor said,” Joshua confirmed. “We'll be giving a couple of talks about the Guild, possibly assisting a bit with combat training.” He smiled wryly. “We've done stranger jobs.”

Rean wasn't sure he wanted to know. “Well, I have some other things I need to take care of, so I'll see you later tonight. I'm usually running around town on our free days; Instructor Sara has me playing errand boy for Student Council.” He turned, paused to look back. “Kirsche's has the best tea in town, if you're interested.”

Class VII's dorm was surprisingly rustic for a high-class place like Thors. Or maybe rustic wasn't the right word; Estelle wasn't quite sure, only that it wasn't as fancy as she would have expected. She suspected Class VII liked it that way, judging by a snide remark Rean had made about the upper-class dorm.

“It's almost like a Guild house,” Joshua observed. “Didn't Rean say Class VII is some kind of experiment?”

Estelle nodded. “A lot of what they've been doing is the kind of stuff we do. Maybe Olivier had something to do with it.”

“Ah, Miss Estelle, welcome to the Class VII dormitory. It's a pleasure to meet you.” A young-looking woman in maid's garb had appeared from what was presumably the kitchen. “Joshua and Renne, I'm glad to see you doing well.”

Both former Enforcers immediately tensed. “What are you doing here, Severing Chains?” Joshua asked in a low voice.

Sharon Kreuger smiled. “I'm afraid I don't know what you mean.”

“Oh, yes, you do,” Joshua countered, looking about ready to draw his blades. Estelle glanced at the door, praying to Aidios to avoid a fight. “Enforcer Number IX, at an Erebonian military academy? Did one of the Anguis decide they needed information on Thors?”

Sharon set a tea tray on a nearby table. “I'm here on behalf of Chairman Irina Reinford, not as an Enforcer of Ouroboros,” she said. “Rest assured, I have absolutely no intention of harming any of the students here. On the contrary,” her smile turned the slightest bit predatory, “if anyone does wish them harm, they will have to go through me first.”

Estelle wasn't sure whether to believe the older woman or not. Sharon seemed friendly enough, but she was still an Enforcer, and Estelle had bad memories of Enforcers. Especially Luciola; the Bewitching Bell's mind games were a particularly bitter memory.

Nevertheless, Joshua appeared satisfied. He still didn't look happy, but at least the immediate crisis had been averted. “Fair enough,” he said. “While we're on the subject, do you have any idea what Bleublanc might be doing?”

“I'm afraid not.” Sharon shook her head. “I've heard little from the Society since taking on my current position. Knowing Bleublanc, he may simply be amusing himself; we can likely expect to hear about an unusual theft in the near future.”

The was Bleublanc, all right. Estelle sighed in resignation. “I guess we'll handle the crazy when it comes. Anyway, you've probably heard Joshua and I are going to be giving a couple of guest lectures at Thors. We'll also be in the capital for the Summer Festival; an old friend invited us to see it, though I'd bet a pair of Stregas he has some kind of ulterior motive.”

Sharon chuckled softly. “If the friend is who I think it is, I'm sure you're correct. In the meantime, I will do everything in my power to make sure your stay in Trista is as comfortable as possible.”

The smells coming from the kitchen seemed to add point. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

A few days later, playing tour guide for a pair of bracers was the last thing on Rean's mind. July marked the beginning of a class that he found at once enticing and terrifying, for with summer in full swing, swimming lessons had begun. What enticed him was obvious, seeing his female classmates (Laura especially) in swimsuits.

What he found terrifying was the fact that those same female classmates were quite capable of inflicting grievous bodily harm, and at least one of them had few compunctions about doing so. Toss in his instructor's ever so charming habit of trolling, and it had the potential to go wrong in all kinds of ways.

“Well, that's enough warmups,” Sara said into his thoughts. Aside from being a bit more revealing in the back, her swimsuit was of the same cut as school standard, albeit a bit more colorful. “Now, I'm supposed to remind you that swimming classes here are meant to teach you skills relevant to military service. How not to drown if you fall in the water, saving others from drowning, CPR, that kind of thing.” She smiled, the smile Rean had learned not to trust. “In fact, CPR is is a pretty important skill on any battlefield. Rean, Alisa, would you care to give us a demonstration?”

Rean didn't bother to hide his annoyance. The instructor knew perfectly well the . . . issues he'd had with Alisa for the first few weeks at Thors. For all that they'd patched things up long since, a joke like that was still the equivalent of throwing very dry wood on a bonfire.

As evidenced by Alisa suddenly turning bright red. “I-Instructor!”

“C'mon, I'm just kidding around.”

Not the sort of thing you should be joking about, Instructor. Not here, anyway.

Sara quickly recovered her poise. “Anyway, the point is it's important that you learn how to do it, and won't hesitate if the need arises.” She smirked. “Whether that means locking lips with someone of the same sex, or the opposite.”

She was enjoying this way too much. Machias appeared to share the sentiment, or so Rean judged by the choking noise. Fie, naturally, was quite unruffled by the whole thing, but then Rean wasn't sure he'd yet seen a strong reaction from her about anything at all.

“Well, it is a skill we can use to save someone's life,” Emma said, showing an amazing grasp of the obvious.

Sara nodded slowly. “After we've covered that, I'll be timing how long it takes each of you to swim the length of the pool. Laura, would you mind lending me a hand?”

“Of course, Instructor.”

Rean stepped to the edge of the pool. Hopefully it would give him at least a temporary distraction from his hormones. Swimming beyond a casual dip was much like sword training: one had to devote one's mind and body entirely to the task at hand. Even with Class VII's girls nearby, he was reasonably certain he could manage that much.

It had been a while since he'd gone swimming at all, but his body remembered. The water was a bit chilly, but he'd experienced worse back home. It was even welcome; summer was in full swing in Trista, and switching to short-sleeved uniforms offered only marginal relief from the heat.

He hauled himself out next to Elliot, just as Gaius dove in. “Look at Gaius go,” the musician said with a soft whistle.

“He mentioned swimming in Lake Lacrima every summer,” Rean said, “so it's not really a surprise.”

“Emma's a lot faster than I thought she would be,” Alisa observed. “Though it's not so much her swimming ability that I envy. . . .”

Rean blinked. “Huh? Oh.” He cut himself off. This was dangerous territory indeed.

Too late. “You don't need to get it!” Alisa snapped. “And what are you doing just staring at girls in swimsuits!?”

Okay, this is seriously getting old. “I'm not staring, just looking in that general direction,” Rean countered, knowing full well she wouldn't buy it. “Do you really think I'm crazy enough to stare at girls who could tear me apart? Laura's one of the best swordsmen I've ever seen, and Fie knows all kinds of ways to ruin someone's day.”

“Well, any guy would have a hard time taking his eyes off our class's girls,” Elliot pointed out. “I can't even decide who to gawk at first.” His eyes flickered to Rean's chest. “Not to mention the guys are handsome. You're pretty toned yourself, Rean.”

Rean blinked. “You think so?” It was true he had some decent muscle definition; intense sword training tended to have that effect.

“Y-You do look like you put a lot of effort into your exercise and training,” Alisa conceded, her ire deflected for the moment. “As for you, Elliot, I think you're fine the way you are.”

Elliot's eyes widened. “Really?”

A mental image of a far more muscular Elliot rose unbidden, and had to be quickly suppressed. No. Just no.

“Hey.” Elliot was again looking at Rean's torso. “What's that mark on the left side of your chest? Some kind of scar?”

The irregular, vaguely starburst-shaped pattern of scars had been there for as long as Rean could remember. He had no memory of how it came to be, but had assumed it had some connection to whatever events had led to his adoption by House Schwarzer.

“It's been there as long as I can remember,” he said. “No idea how I got it, though.”

Elliot frowned in thought. “Now that I look at it, it looks more like a bunch of little scares all knit together. Makes you look manly and tough; I wish I had one now.”

No offense, Elliot, but that really wouldn't suit you.

“Trust me, it really wouldn't suit you,” Alisa said.

If anything else came up, Rean didn't hear it. Laura was up next, and he wasn't going to miss it for the world. The way she stood on the block reminded him of a coiled spring, ready to snap into action at the slightest nudge. Or perhaps a lurking predator, ready to pounce.

And why am I making up bad poetry about a classmate?

Then she dove in, moving even faster and more smoothly than when Rean had timed her practice months before. She seemed to glide through the water, moving with an economical grace that he couldn't help but envy. The others were speaking, but he couldn't tell what they said; he felt almost like he was in a trance.

He shook himself free when Laura reached the far end. Alisa was bad enough; he wasn't about to risk the strongest in their class catching him staring.

“20.02 seconds, not bad at all,” Sara said. “Okay, it's time for me to dive into the mix. Everyone, pick a partner; it's time for some head-to-head competition!”

Huh? “That came out of nowhere,” Rean commented.

Elliot swallowed hard. “Races, oh no. . . .”

Jusis turned to Machias with a confident smirk. “It appears we'll have a chance to settle things after all.”

“I'm ready when you are!” the class VP shot back.

Elliot looked about frantically, settled on Gaius as a partner. Rean couldn't blame him; though he tended to sell himself short, Elliot wasn't exactly one for cutthroat competition. He likely wouldn't beat Gaius, but the exchange student wasn't going to rub it in his face.

“How about it, Laura?” Sara said. “Want to partner up with me?”

“Not today, I'm afraid.” Wearing an unusually solemn expression, Laura walked up to the diminutive ex-jaeger. “I wish to challenge Fie this time.”

Fie blinked. “. . .Me?”

“B-But your times weren't even close!” Emma protested.

Rean felt a sinking feeling grow in his stomach. It seemed things were finally starting to come to a head, and he had no idea what would happen next. Fie was expressionless as usual, but the look in Laura's eyes suggested turning her down would be a very bad idea.

“All right, let's go with that,” Sara said. “Guess it's your lucky day again, Rean.”

Define “lucky.” Being in the same room as those two right now is like when you dropped the floor out from under us, only worse. At least competing with (and probably losing to) Instructor Sara would allow him to keep his distance for a bit.

He soon found, to his complete lack of surprise, that Sara Valestein was almost as much a terror in the pool as she was in direct combat. Keyword being “almost”; Rean found his homeroom teacher didn't have quite as big an advantage at swimming. Maybe it was because her usual contact with liquids was in the form of beer.

Regardless, after making a supreme effort, leaving his arms sore and his lungs ready to explode, Rean was able to beat her to the end of the pool by a bare half second. “I,” he gasped for breath, “actually won!”

“Congratulations, Rean,” Sara said with a smile, helping him out of the water. “It's always a delight when a student manages to beat his teacher.”

“I'll take your word for it,” Rean said. He half walked, half staggered back to the rest of the class.

The temperature seemed to have dropped. It was an illusion, of course, but a very powerful one, centered on Laura and Fie. They were standing at the pool's edge, waiting for the word to start. Alisa stood behind them, a stopwatch in one hand. She looked at least as nervous as Rean felt.

“Are you two ready?” she asked, managing to keep her voice from quavering.

“Not quite,” Laura said, and turned to Fie. “Fie, how about giving it all you've got this time?”

A memory flashed through Rean's mind, the night they'd spent in Celdic. Laura pointedly asking him why he had been holding back, her disappointment that he struck his heart in a way he still couldn't explain. They'd been able to mend fences within hours, but he wasn't so sure it would be so simple here.

“What if I already did?” Fie responded, a faint note of irritation showing through the apathy.

Laura's eyes hardened. “I don't think so. I could tell just by watching; don't make light of me. Your earlier time was certainly not the best you're capable of.”

Sara clicked her tongue. “It's not very polite to your opponent to hold back,” she said. “Fie, this isn't like the battlefields you grew up fighting on. It's a place you can grow and better yourself by challenging others. Deep down, I know you realize that.”

Fie looked at Sara for a moment, then turned around and gave Laura a nod of assent.

“Good,” Laura said. “Then let us begin.”

Rean wasn't the only one nervous about the whole thing. Elliot was visibly shaking, and Emma wasn't much better. Gaius at least appeared composed, and Instructor Sara naturally didn't even twitch. Then again, she'd had to put up with far worse over the last couple of months.

“Looking at them, it's obvious how different their builds are,” Machias observed uneasily.

“If that were all that mattered' we'd have turned in much faster times than either of them,” Jusis countered.

Gaius rubbed his chin. “I imagine the difference lies in the control of their bodies.”

Clearing her throat, Alisa fixed her eyes on the stopwatch. “Ready . . . go!”

It was like watching a pair of dolphins. That was the only comparison Rean could think of as the girls tore their way across the pool. It wasn't exactly surprising for Laura, but Fie's speed had somehow doubled. Almost as if she hadn't even been trying before.

Seemingly as soon as it had begun, it was over. “Which of them came in first!?” Alisa yelped.

“It was too close to call,” Jusis breathed, sounding awed.

Gaius shook his head. “No, there was a tiny difference. Laura came out ahead, just barely.”

“It might have been as simple as her longer arms,” Rean agreed. He took a few steps in their direction. Eavesdropping wasn't exactly polite, he knew, but he had the distinct feeling their problem was going to drop into his lap in the very near future.

“Well done,” Fie said, gasping for breath.

“The same to you,” Laura said, sounding equally winded. “You can do this when you want to, yet . . . you consistently hold back. Why?”

Fie shrugged. “No reason, really. Too much effort, I guess.”

Laura sighed. “It seems we truly cannot find a middle ground.”

Yep. It's like Jusis and Machias all over again. I'd bet all the mira I have I'm in the same group as those two for the next field study.

“Well, the temperatures are going up, up, up, and I dunno about you, but I'm wilting like a flower.”

Rean tried to think of a snide remark, but none came to mind. He couldn't exactly disagree with the instructor, after all; short-sleeved uniforms were a poor defense against the heat. Swimming practice was the only real source of relief, brief though it was.

“But as everyone knows, that's when the refreshing power of beer is at its height! Maybe I should use my free day tomorrow to hit up the capital's beer gardens!”

An opening. “Much as I'd like to, I'm not going to try and stop you,” Rean said in a dust-dry voice. “Just try not to embarrass us when you get back.”

Sara laughed. “Getting better at the comebacks there, Rean. I knew you could do it.”

“You have something against hard drinkers, Rean?” Alisa asked in a low voice. “Not that I disagree or anything.”

He grimaced. “Master Ka-fai drinks like a fish, and gets a bit . . . weird when he's drunk. Can be a pain to deal with. Besides, alcohol dulls the reflexes.” Though Yun Ka-fai seemed immune to that particular issue.

“So, do you have a classy gentleman lined up for you, or will you be . . . flying solo again?” A faint smile played about Jusis's lips. “Perhaps you can make up for last month.”

It was very difficult to not burst out laughing. Sara's mouth opened, then shut with an audible click. “You just had to ask,” she grumbled. “Moving on, your next practical exam is coming up next Wednesday. I'm sure you're all used to them by now, but make sure you're ready.”

As deflections went, that one was pretty good. “So our field study is next weekend, then,” Alisa said.

Machias sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. “It feels like we only just got back from the last one.”

You said it, Machias. Between narrowly averting a war and whatever problems Laura and Fie's issue caused on Bryonia Island, it's a wonder any of us can even walk right now.

“If we're tied up next weekend, I guess I won't be able to go to the capital for the Summer Festival this year.” Elliot sounded resigned.

Gaius looked up, curious. “What Summer Festival?”

“It's a kind of seasonal holiday,” Rean explained. “Most cities in Erebonia celebrate it in June.”

“I've heard it's some kind of animistic festival that the Septian Church adopted centuries back,” Alisa put in.

Gaius nodded. “Ah, I see. We actually have a similar festival in Nord.” He tilted his head slightly. “Though if it's mostly celebrated in June, why does Heimdallr wait till July?”

It was something Rean had been wondering for a while. There didn't seem to be any logistical reason for it; if there was any place in the Empire that could throw a big bash, it was the Vermilion Capital. Governments being what they were, he'd always suspected some kind of bureaucratic rationale.

“I've always wondered that myself,” Sara said. “Does anyone here actually know?”

Machias let out what sounded like a half sigh, half groan. “The standards for teaching just aren't what they used to be.”

“If memory serves, it has something to do with the War of the Lions,” Laura said. “Beyond that, I'm sadly ignorant.”

Emma nodded. “July is the month in which Emperor Dreichels ended the war. Because of that, the Summer Festival was held a month late, alongside the celebrations of the war's end.”

“That's pretty interesting,” Sara said. “Come to think of it, I remember Instructor Thomas mentioning it a few months back. But it seemed like he was going to babble on and on, so I wormed my way out of the conversation.”

Rean winced. “Can't say I blame you there.”

“If you let him, he'll go on about history all day,” Elliot agreed. “I mean, he knows his stuff, but there's only so much I can take in one sitting.”

“Tell me about it,” Fie said. “He doesn't know when to shut up.”

Sara waved a hand. “Anyway, don't let the heat sap your strength.” Her lip twisted. “Although I'm sure our miracle-working maid will whip up something to keep us all fresh and energized.” Her tone was almost comically sour.

“She and Sharon definitely have some kind of history,” Rean murmured.

“No argument here,” Alisa said. “But when I ask Sharon about it, she just acts all innocent.”

For that matter, Rean was pretty sure Joshua Bright knew what was up. It was hard to tell, but the Liberlian bracer seemed just a little bit tense around Sharon. Or so it seemed. Rean wasn't entirely sure on that; he was generally good at getting a feel for people, but Joshua was a mystery. Albeit not as much of one as Renne; to Rean's horror, she had struck up a friendship with Vivi of all people. Knowing Vivi, Rean shuddered to think what chaos would result.

With the closing formalities out of the way, he sat back in his chair, suddenly drained of all volition. He supposed it was the heat combined with their intense coursework, both academic and physical, and made a mental note to keep a water bottle with him while running errands the next day.

Somewhere in the middle of that, Fie slipped out of the room, followed by a concerned Emma. Rousing himself, Rean caught a glimpse of Laura looking decidedly conflicted. “I see they're getting along the same as ever.”

“So it seems,” Gaius said. “I noticed them arguing after their race at swimming practice.”

“And it seems their group's last field study score was middling as well,” Jusis observed.

Machias sighed. “They were like that the entire trip. Can you do anything to smooth things out, Rean?”

Knew this was coming. “I've been trying to think of something to help, but no luck. I still don't get why you're asking me, though.”

“Well, you just seem like you're good at this kind of thing,” Gaius said, shrugging. “A real natural.”

Jusis chuckled. “Besides which, you're the well-intentioned mark who got duped into helping Student Council.”

“It's not like I do anything major for them,” Rean countered, a bit lamely, glancing at Elliot. “Something wrong?”

The musician jumped in his chair. “Sorry, what was that? Oh, right.” He smiled lopsidedly. “I have to agree, you're the best person for the job, Rean. You understand Laura better than anyone, and besides, you got Jusis and Machias to become buddies.”

Machias looked like he'd been slapped. “Since when are we buddies!?”

“You must be sniffing roses in the garden of delusions if you think I'm a friend of his,” Jusis said, albeit not as tartly as he would have just a couple months before.

Elliot laughed softly. “It's crazy how you two are on the same wavelength. Anyway, I've got a club meeting to get to. See you guys at the dorm.”

It sounded a little too much like an escape attempt, but Rean couldn't really disagree. He really needed to get back to the dorm anyway, get a little extra studying in. If there was one thing that had stuck with him from Master Ka-fai's training sessions, it was the unwisdom of resting on one's laurels.

A little fresh air first wouldn't hurt, he decided. So long as he didn't suffer heatstroke, it might at least help clear his mind. Ordinarily some sword practice would do the trick, but the fact that one of the problems at hand was someone every bit as focused on the blade as he was, it was likely to have the opposite effect.

Okay, then. Best to think about it systematically. While Rean had no regrets about the monster incident in Aurochs Canyon, he preferred to find a less painful method this time. Jusis had, after all, made an important point about his seeming lack of a self-preservation instinct, echoing Master Ka-fai.

So. Issue one, Laura. A proud but far from haughty noble, descended from one of the legendary Eisenritter, heir to the lordship of Legram and one of the most famous sword schools in the Empire. Generally courteous and friendly, and as Rean now recalled from a long-ago meeting in Ymir, always eager to learn.

Issue two, Fie. Former jaeger from Aidios-knew-where, confident yet apathetic. Highly skilled both with her unusual gun-sword weapons and other methods of causing mayhem; leaving aside her use of explosives in Bareahard, Rean had during combat practice seen her whip out knives, flash grenades, and on one occasion had produced a set of knuckledusters. Her overall style was relentlessly pragmatic, committed to ending the fight as quickly and efficiently as possible. Nevertheless, she often held herself back, something Rean knew from experience would irritate Laura, who could not abide people giving anything less than their best.

How to get them to meet in the middle?

It was only the sound of voices that snapped Rean out of his seeming trance. One he immediately recognized as Emma; the other, a female voice he'd never heard before. Curiosity got the better of him; from the sound of it, Emma was somewhere on the academy field. An unusual place for her outside combat exercises to say the least.

“I don't know,” he heard her saying faintly. “He didn't show the 'potential' while we were in Nord.”

“Potential”? What is she talking about?

The other voice sounded annoyed. “I should have gone with you. It seems pretty likely he's a 'key.'”

Now things were getting strange. As far as Rean knew, there was no reason for anyone not part of Class VII to have accompanied them to the Nord Highlands. On the other hand, it strengthened the sense of dislocation he'd been feeling around Emma of late, a feeling that things weren't entirely as they seemed.

He stepped around behind the Lacrosse Club's shed . . . to find a very startled Emma Millstein, along with the black cat he'd seen in town before. “Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.” Which was technically true, at least.

“Rean! H-How long have you been there!?” Emma stammered.

He shrugged. “I was just passing by when I heard voices, and wondered where they were coming from.” He glanced around. “You were talking with someone, right? Where did they go?”

Visibly unnerved, Emma hesitated. “Um, well. . . .” She hurriedly pulled out her orbment. “I was talking to a friend on my ARCUS! T-That communication functionality sure is handy, isn't it?” She smiled shakily.

Rean didn't believe her for an instant. Voices heard over the ARCUS invariably had a faint distortion effect similar to orbal radio broadcasts, and the other voice had been clear as a bell. Still, there seemed to be no harm in playing along. “Sorry I interrupted, then. I'll be on my way if you want to call them back.”

Emma shook her head. “It's okay; we'd finished talking anyway. There's nothing you need to worry about. Nothing at all!”

Sorry, Emma, you might get top marks in school, but you're a bad liar. “If you say so,” Rean said with a shrug. “So, you know that cat after all?” He lifted an eyebrow. “She's not your cat, is she?”

“No, it's not quite like that. If anything, she's like my supervisor.”

Rean frowned. That made no sense. “A cat is your supervisor?”

Suddenly, Emma appeared on the verge of panic. “I-I meant friend! Yes, we have a real connection! We kept running into each other when I first came to the academy, and one thing led to another. . . .”

“Is that so.” Rean eyed the cat, and couldn't help noticing a shrewd glint in those feline eyes. “Do you know her name?”

Emma hesitated, just long enough to show there was far more to it than met the eye. “Her name is Celine,” she said with a smile.”

“Celine,” Rean repeated. The cat's reaction said it all; this was no ordinary cat. “It has a nice ring to it. That shiny, silky-looking fur really suits her.” He smiled. “At least you knew she was female; I wasn't quite sure until tonight.”

Emma giggled. “I'd have thought the bow would give it away.” She gathered Celine up in her arms. “Let's get you home.”

That is not a normal cat.

If he hadn't been scheduled to play errand boy for Student Council, Rean would almost have slept in. Just as he was leaving campus the previous night, Instructor Neithardt had cornered him to “discuss” what had gone down in Nord. The teacher/army officer had gotten it into his head that Class VII's actions had been rash, lacking respect for the chain of command.

Never mind the fact that we did ask General Vander for permission, Rean thought irritably, and were acting on the direct request of an Imperial Intelligence agent. He shook his head. It really wasn't worth getting all worked up about, especially given one of the requests that had fallen into his lap.

“A first year student who shall remain nameless (Rex) has been taking photos of people without their permission,” he read aloud, “and trading those pictures on-campus. He needs to be stopped for his own good (and everyone else's).” So read a missive from a noble second year by the name of Fidelio, head of the Photography Club, Rean had crossed paths with him on occasion, and he seemed friendly enough, certainly no Patrick Hyarms.

Rex, now, that name Rean was a little too familiar with. Always seen with a camera in his hand and a stocking cap on his head (even now that they'd switched to summer uniform, which in Rean's opinion made him a lunatic), he had a reputation for being obsessed with taking pictures of cute girls. Apparently the idiot had taken it to the next level.

And “idiot” is the word, Rean thought, nodding at Estelle and Joshua as he passed Kirsche's. This is a military academy, for crying out loud. Forget official repercussions, does he have any idea what some of the girls can and will do to him if they find out?

He started by asking if anyone had seen the offending student. For the most part he received only shrugs and blank expressions, but at the local church he hit pay dirt. Fellow first year Rosine, who seemed to be in training to become a sister, had seen Rex loitering around the church not an hour before, then leaving in the direction of Thors. She assumed he was photographing the church, as it was an elegant and stately building despite its size. Rean though that rather naive, but thought it unwise to press the issue.

At the Thors gate, Colette (just leaving for one of her periodic shopping trips) provided further directions. She mentioned spotting that distinctive hat down at the Academy field, along with a couple of others in commoner green. Knowing this likely meant a transaction was going down, Rean quickened his pace.

Sure enough, he soon heard conspiratorial whispers. Before long he was able to pick out some very damning statements, and easily recognized Rex's voice among them. He slowed to a more cautious walk; Fidelio had warned him Rex had an almost preternatural knack for sensing danger. An asset for a soldier, but a pain here.

Apparently he wasn't quiet enough. There was a brief scurrying noise, and when Rean arrived, there was no sign of anyone. He cursed under his breath, but mildly; Rex was proving a bit trickier than expected, but Rean knew tricky. He would catch the rogue photographer yet.

Catching sight of a lacrosse team member, Rean waved a hand. “Excuse me, Ferris. Can I talk to you for just a moment?”

Ferris Florald, Alisa's self-proclaimed rival, narrowed her eyes imperiously. “Please keep it brief,” she said, brushing her long violet hair back. “I have an engagement to keep.”

“Don't worry, this won't take long,” Rean assured her. “Have you seen a lower-class first year in a stocking cap anywhere?”

Ferris's lip curled, but it wasn't directed at Rean. “Indeed I have,” she said disdainfully. “He was running in the general direction of that dilapidated old building your class explores every month.”

“The old schoolhouse?” Rean grimaced. “At least he can't get in. Thanks for the information.” With a slight bow that appeared to catch Ferris by surprise, he took off at a trot.

This area he knew well, well enough that Rex and whoever he was making a deal with wouldn't have such an easy time escaping. He considering contacting Fie, but quickly decided against it; there were too many ways it could go badly wrong. For the moment, he was on his own.

“Excuse me,” he said when he spotted Rex. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”

One of the other students, a commoner Rean didn't recognize, looked at him in confusion. “Is he another customer, Rex?”

Rex shook his head. “Nah, that's Rean Schwarzer from Class VII. You know, the guy who's always helping out Student Council?”

“Oh, him.” It seemed Rean had developed something of a reputation. “You think he's here about the goods?”

“Dead sure,” Rex said grimly. “Better split up; we'll meet at Point C.”

“Got it.”

Rex looked past Rean's shoulder. “Alisa? What are you doing in that revealing swimsuit?”

Instinctively, Rean spun on his heel. “Huh? Why would she be—oh.” He turned back around, to find Rex and his customer had vanished. “I can't believe I fell for that.” He glared down the path. Okay, now it's personal. Wracking his brain for possible hiding spots, one place jumped out at him. It had to be somewhere seldom used, and the only part of the Thors campus that fit that description was the auditorium.

You aren't getting away, Rex.

A quick consultation with the janitor, and he found the auditorium suspiciously unlocked. Taking a cautious step inside, Rean immediately sensed at least two presences. Unless Vivi was pulling her most insane prank yet, it had to be Rex and the student he'd been speaking to.

He found them in a storage room backstage. Rex was quick to slip past, but the other student was cornered. “All right, hand it over,” he said. “I think you know you're not supposed to have that.”

With a resigned sigh, the student obeyed, passing over a picture . . . of Towa at her desk. “I'm a really big fan, okay!?” he said at Rean's incredulous look.

“Fair enough, but still. . . .” Rean glanced around. Not many places Rex could have gotten to. “Keep out of trouble, and I'll leave it at that,” he said. Ignoring the student's relieved stammering, he made for a nearby staircase.

Rex heard him coming, but this time there was no escape. “How did you know I was up here?” he groaned.

“It was simple,” Rean said. “Now, let's go see Fidelio. Or would you rather the faculty got wind of this?”

Gulping, Rex sighed. “Fine, I'll go.”

Fidelio was visibly relieved to see them. He listened to Rean's account, and then Rex's confession, without a word. He spent a few minutes deep in thought, presumably mulling over how to handle the incident. Spreading the offending photos out, he finally sighed.

“They're good pictures, I'll give you that,” he said. “Still, the fact remains that you took them without permission. I don't think I have to tell you what that means.”

“It means he has less of a self-preservation instinct than I do,” Rean said dryly, tapping a photo that he found particularly tempting. Somehow, Rex had gotten a good shot of Laura in the swimming pool. “Imagine if Laura's father had found out.”

He almost laughed at the way Rex went several shades paler than normal. “Uh, y-yeah.” At Fidelio's prompting, he reluctantly surrendered the proceeds of his picture deals, then wailed in anguish when the club president exposed his photo-quartz to direct sunlight, utterly ruining it.

“Okay, I'm willing to let this be the end of it,” Fidelio said. “You're a good photographer, Rex; I'd hate to have to kick you out of the club. Just make sure you get your subjects' permission, all right?”

Rex nodded jerkily. “I will,” he promised.

“Good.” Fidelio looked at Rean. “Thanks for the help.”

Rean smiled. “No problem. I'm just glad we were able to keep things private.”

It was another two hours before he was able to just sit down and rest, if only for a moment. Pretty much all of the normal requests had been dealt with, leaving only the monthly excursion into the old schoolhouse. Which posed problems of its own; Laura and Fie's conflict had only gotten worse since their last swimming practice. Even more concerning, it was making it more difficult for them to form combat links even with others in the class.

We have to do something, and soon, Rean thought. The question is, what? I don't think letting a monster slice my shoulder open would help this time.

His ARCUS chose that moment to ring. Sighing, he keyed the device on. “Schwarzer.”

“This is Instructor Neithardt,” the other identified himself. “Are you busy?”

Rean double-checked his list. “Not at the moment,” he said. “There's still the old schoolhouse assignment, but otherwise I've finished my tasks for the day.”

“Excellent,” Neithardt said. “Could you come to the faculty lounge when you have the chance? There's something I want to discuss in person.”

Why does that sound ominous? “I'll be there in a few minutes,” Rean said, and tucked his orbment away. He had an unpleasant feeling that his day had just gotten more complicated.

Neithardt wasn't alone in the lounge, but thankfully Vice-Principal Heinrich was nowhere to be seen. Instructor Makarov appeared to be looking at some papers, and didn't seem to notice Rean's approach. Trying to hide his increasing unease, Rean stopped a couple arge away from Neithardt.

The instructor/army officer looked up. “Ah, Schwarzer, thank you for coming.”

“It's no trouble,” Rean assured him. “Though I thought you had some military business to take care of.”

“Already finished,” Neithardt said. “I was barely able to get any shuteye, especially after Instructor Thomas roped us into drinking last night. . . . Though I probably shouldn't be telling you that.” He cleared his throat. “At any rate, Instructor Valestein informed me of your swimming lessons. It seems the men of Class VII suffered a truly humiliating defeat.”

Rean frowned. “Pardon?”

“Arseid and Claussell, Schwarzer! I'm referring to Arseid and Claussell.” His lip twisted. “If what Instructor Valestein told me is at all accurate, those two swam circles around all you men. Or perhaps I should say boys, as no man of the Empire would stand for this!”

Okay, this is a bit much. “Respectfully, sir, I don't remember you complaining when Laura fought me to a draw last month.”

“The keyword is 'draw,' Schwarzer,” Neithardt responded. “Arseid lives and breathes swordplay, yet you fought on even terms. This is different; you weren't even close. For the sake of masculinity the world over, please tell me you felt at least a twinge of frustration.”

Rean took a deep breath. “It did kinda bother me, yeah. Still, being from Legram and all, she's been swimming a lot longer than I have. I grew up in the Eisengard Mountains, not many chances to go swimming there.”

“Granted,” Neithardt conceded. “Nevertheless, that makes it all the more important that you take advantage of whatever opportunities you have to improve your skills, and I have just the thing. If you have the time and guts, I'll be happy to teach you how men swim.”

That was at least as frightening as Instructor Sara's brainstorms. “I'm going to, ah, need a little clarification on that.”

Neithardt, fortunately, seemed to be in a more patient mood. “Swimming is more about knowing how to breathe and use your body than about the body itself. Army men undergo training to learn how to swim quickly and efficiently. No wasted movements, no wasted breaths.” His eyes hardened. “And I would be more than willing to pass that on to you, to keep you from being shown up by those girls again.”

Rean sucked in a breath. “Seriously?”

“I'm always serious,” Neithardt said. “If you have it in you, gather the men of Class VII and I'll teach you all at once. Make your choice quickly; this might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

There were any number of things Rean would rather have been doing. Exploring the old schoolhouse, training with Laura, sitting through one of Instructor Thomas's lectures, and more. About the only thing he could think of that was less appealing was having to deal with Patrick Hyarms.

“If you're willing to teach us, I'm not going to waste this opportunity,” he said at last.

Neithardt offered an approving smile. “Now there's the kind of answer I like to hear. Gather up the other men and meet me in the gymnasium!”

Why do I already regret this?

Elliot tried to hide his nervousness, but it was hard. Rean's message had seemed innocuous enough, or would have if it wasn't for the other name attached. Though the rest of the class wasn't aware of it, Elliot knew Instructor Neithardt a little too well. The idea of him holding a swimming class, however brief, was downright terrifying.

Still, there was no way around it. Here they were, the “men” of Class VII, gathered by the pool and wondering if they were going to survive the next half hour or so. Personally, Elliot really doubted it.

He looked at Rean. “So, uh, why are we here again?”

“Instructor Neithardt wants to teach us to swim as effectively as possible,” Rean said, confirming Elliot's fears. “No idea what he means by that.”

“I don't see why we all had to gather on such short notice,” Machias half-muttered. “And why are only the guys here, anyway?”

Jusis hit him with a smirk. “If it's that much of a problem for you, I doubt any of us would mind if you went back to the dorm.”

Predictable as the sunrise, Machias's face twisted in a snarl. “It's just an observation, you smarmy little—”

Neithardt pointedly cleared his throat. “We'll being with warm-ups, in accordance with the Manway Method.”

Okay, huh? Accustomed though he was to Neithardt's foibles, Elliot couldn't help thinking “Manway Method” sounded just plain weird. As in, Instructor Sara weird, though he seriously doubted Neithardt would appreciate the comparison. No matter how apt it was.

“The 'Manway Method'?” Rean repeated. “Did you make that up on the spot?”

Neithardt waved a hand dismissively. “The name is not important. The method, however, is. You'll be racing each other one on one. Nothing gets a man motivated like some sweaty competition!”

Typical Neithardt, unfortunately. Elliot had never known someone as fervent about masculinity, not even his own father. For someone who was a musician by inclination, that was more than a little terrifying.

“Now, Schwarzer, you can go first since you piped up about the name.”

Rean sighed in resignation. “Elliot, you feel up to it?”

“Dunno how much of a challenge I'll be,” Elliot said, acutely aware of Neithardt's gaze, “but I'll do my best.”

The ensuing race wasn't exactly a confidence-builder. Rean took an early lead and never let up. With most of his concentration focused on not drowning, Elliot could only spare an occasional glance, but what he did see was downright awe-inspiring. It was easy to see how hard Rean trained at pretty much anything; not exactly Laura's equal as a swimmer, true, but no amateur, either.

“You really are fast,” Elliot half-gasped when they hauled themselves out.

“You're not exactly slow yourself,” Rean countered.

Before Elliot could express his view that Rean was giving him too much credit, Neithardt cut them off. “Are you here to chitchat or swim?”

Ten minutes later, Elliot was more certain than ever that an army career was not for him. Physical training was one thing, but this went beyond even the usual Class VII insanity. If he hadn't known the instructor since well before enrolling at Thors, he would have been convinced Neithardt was some kind of psychopath.

“Four races in a row really takes it out of you,” Rean said, visibly heaving for breath.

“Tell me about it,” Machias groaned.

Elliot, for his part, was having trouble keeping his head above water. “Think we're done for the day? I could really use a nap.” And that was without taking the old schoolhouse into account.

Even Gaius looked like he wanted to pass out. “I didn't know swimming could be this exhausting.”

“I would appreciate if we could get to the meat of these lessons,” Jusis said.

Are you insane!?

“How naive,” Neithardt said. “Every last one of you. You really think you're ready after a wimpy warm-up like that? Oh, no, you have a long way to go. Which leads into our next exercise of the day: limit breakers.”

Elliot swallowed hard. “I'm not the only one panicking at the word 'break' in that name, am I?”

“. . .What, exactly, are those?” Machias asked, sounding like he didn't really want to hear the answer.

Neithardt sniffed faintly. “There's no such thing as a dumb question, Regnitz, but that one comes awfully close. As the name suggests, this exercise has you swimming to—and then through—the limits of your endurance.” He smiled very slightly. “I know, you're all thinking, 'Oh, no, Instructor, that's a surefire way to drown, don't do this to us!' But don't worry, I'll give you thirty whole seconds to rest for each length of the pool you swim.”

Aidios, help us!

Still, there was nothing to do but go along with it. Before long, time ceased to have any meaning. There was only the water, and the ache of trying endlessly to fight against it. Even the other boys of Class VII were on the very fringes of his perception, barely even people anymore.

It seemed an eternity, but eventually it ended. Elliot and his friends stood at the edge of the pool, completely spent. All he could think about was his tired muscles and empty stomach; he hoped there would be time for lunch before the next schoolhouse trip.

“It seems you've all depleted your reserves,” Neithardt said, looking them up and down.

“I'm honestly surprised we survived it,” Rean said, echoing Elliot's thoughts.

Machias barely raised his head. “Was there a point to all this?”

Neithardt smirked. “You still doubt me? Check your final times; I think you'll be surprised.”

Elliot did, and felt a jolt of shock through his fatigue. It still didn't match what Laura routinely managed, but it was still far faster than he'd thought himself capable of. Such a dramatic improvement from a single training session, it didn't seem real.

“It felt like it was taking hours just to swim one length,” Gaius said.

Jusis frowned. “What exactly happened here?”

Neithardt clasped his hands behind his back. “Once you reach your limit, your body devotes all of its energy to swimming, not wasting an ounce on anything else. This is the method I told you about; keep swimming like this and you'll be able to cut your times down even further.”

“So there was a method to your madness after all,” Machias said.

The remark actually drew a brief chuckle. “Snide comments aside, you all performed very well.”

Which was really the best they could have hoped for.

Celine was right, Emma thought. At least, it looks like it. There's no way this is a mere coincidence.

Unfortunately, she couldn't tell Rean that. Her duty, the entire reason she had enrolled at Thors, precluded it. She felt horrible leaving him in the dark like that, unable to warn him, but she had no choice. Forget Celine, her grandmother would give her the scolding of the century otherwise.

In any case, the red door they'd found on the fourth floor was compelling evidence indeed. Emma was almost certain now that Rean was a potential Awakener, and that made her duty far more complicated.

“I don't remember this being here before!” Elliot said, mouth agape.

“It seems unlikely we could have missed something this . . . obvious,” Gaius agreed. “I wonder if this is what caused the tremor we felt earlier.”

You're more right than you realize, Gaius.

“Wouldn't surprise me,” Alisa said. “After everything we've already seen, I'm not sure anything is impossible down here. Either way, we should have a closer look.”

As Emma expected, they found nothing that could be a keyhole or other opening mechanism. From all appearances it was stone, but far stronger than anything they had seen even in the quarry in Nord. At the end they tried the brute force approach, but not even Laura's monster of a sword so much as scratched it.

“No good; it's not going to budge,” Rean said, glaring at the vaguely flower-like pattern in the door's center.

“Even my sword was useless,” Laura murmured, apparently forgetting her conflict with Fie for the moment.

Elliot shook his head. “You'd think my orbal staff or arts would do something, but no luck. It just shrugs everything off.”

“Which means it's made of a material we can't even manufacture today,” Rean said. “It's definitely not ordinary stone, whatever it looks like. I think it's safe to say destroying it isn't an option.”

Alisa frowned, cocking her head. “If you listen close, you can hear gears and cogs moving around. It's almost like it's some kind of giant orbment.”

“Or there's something behind it,” Rean said. He walked up to the door, and seemed to stagger when he got within an arge of it. Emma looked on in concern; she had no idea what the problem was, but from the way Rean clutched at his chest she was sure it had something to do with whatever injury he'd suffered so many years before.

Regardless, he recovered quickly enough, and with no reason to stay longer, they made their way to the surface. Emma had to force herself not to look back, lest she give something away, but it was hard. Events were suddenly in motion, more quickly than she or Celine had expected.

“It's already evening,” Rean commented, oblivious to her thoughts. “I'd like to submit a report on that red door before the end of the day.”

Emma pursed her lips. “I don't think Principal Vandyck is here today,” she pointed out. “Maybe we should report to Instructor Sara first.”

“Makes sense,” Rean agreed. He smiled tiredly. “I don't know about you guys, but I'm beat. Thanks for coming with me, and be sure to get some rest.”

They split up, though Emma couldn't help noticing not all of them headed for the get. For herself, she couldn't help gazing back at the old schoolhouse, a deep sense of foreboding washing over her.

The First Trial. Is it really time?

Slash. Thrust. Chop. Block. Sidestep. Parry. The moves were familiar, as was the greatsword in her hand, but for perhaps the first time, the basics of the Arseid School brought Laura no comfort. No matter what she did, the turmoil in her mind refused to subside. To her shame, her issues with Fie had spilled over to the rest of the class; she'd found during their latest excursion into the old schoolhouse that it was even hampering her ability to link with Rean, despite their high compatibility rating.

And it was her own fault. Alisa was entirely correct that rectifying the problem was Laura's responsibility as senior, yet she was powerless. Granted someone doing any less than their best offended her on general principles, but that was in the end a minor issue. Something about Fie was getting under her skin when it really shouldn't have, and it frustrated her to no end.

I am such a fool, she thought with a flash of self-reproach. Whatever Fie's background, since enrolling at Thors she has never shown herself to be anything less than honorable, however unorthodox her methods. Why can I not simply accept that?

An odd noise interrupted her dark musings, throwing off her rhythm just a hair. With a puzzled frown, she turned to find Rean watching her from a few arge away; the baffling sound was him clapping.

“Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt,” he said. “Excellent form as always, Laura.”

Sighing, she shook her head. “While I appreciate the sentiment, you need not lie to spare my feelings. As skilled a swordsman as you are, I'm sure you could see the flaws in my technique. My hesitation.”

Rean scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. “Okay, you got me there. Still, it's always nice to see you putting your all into it.”

“Be that as it may.” Laura sighed again. “I apologize, Rean. Recent events have me more unsettled than I had realized, and I'm not certain how to resolve the issue.”

She saw in his face that he knew exactly what she was talking about. “I understand,” he said. For a moment it looked like he was going to touch her shoulder, then thought better of it. “If you need someone to talk to, well, you know where to find me.”

While Laura had no intention of burdening her friend with her own problems, the offer nonetheless warmed her heart. “I appreciate it,” she said. “Besides, you and I still need to have a proper duel. The last time we crossed blades, it ended in a draw.”

Rean laughed softly. “Got a point there. Okay, I'll be waiting for your challenge.”

“Rest assured, it will be forthcoming once my current dilemma is solved,” Laura said. She tried to inject a sense of ominous purpose into her tone, but the look on Rean's face told her she had failed. “Make sure you're prepared.”

“Oh, I will be,” he said with a grin. He turned to leave, then paused. “For what it's worth, I think you're a little too concerned about being Fie's senior. None of us are adults; the whole reason we're here is to learn how to be adults. You're not going to reach that point overnight, anymore than you can master your sword without intensive training.”

A valid point indeed. “Thank you,” Laura said. “I'll remember that.”

Rean smiled. “Always happy to help.”

As he neared the school gate an hour or so later, Rean mused that it was very fortunate they weren't going to have exams again for some time. Combine that mysterious door with Laura and Fie's ongoing low-level conflict, and his mind was simply too full for truly intensive studying.

“Calling it a day, Rean?”

Half-turning, Rean saw several of his classmates a couple arge away, with only Laura and Fie missing. “Yeah. You guys heading back, too?”

“Yeah,” Alisa said. “I'm really worn out, especially after the old schoolhouse. That was the craziest yet.”

“Seemed like a good time,” Gaius agreed. “Art Club was already winding down; Clara's staying, naturally, but that's just her way.”

Rean couldn't help rolling his eyes. If there was anyone on campus he liked less than Patrick T. Hyarms, it was the Art Club head. She was even more of a monomaniac about art than Elliot was about music, to the point that Rean honestly wondered what she was doing at a military academy in the first place.

“I was hoping to get some more studying in, but that doesn't seem practical with everyone else leaving,” Machias said with a sigh.

Rean laughed. “Peer pressure, gets you every time. That reminds me, where are Laura and Fie?”

“We don't know,” Emma said with a shake of her head. “We looked for them, but they were nowhere to be found.”

Not necessarily surprising in Fie's case. She probably knew every nook and cranny of the school, possibly even better than the faculty did. Making herself scarce when she didn't want to be found was undoubtedly child's play for her.

“They're old enough to find their way back on their own,” Jusis said, waving a hand in dismissal.

“Yeah,” Rean acknowledged. “Still, kind of a shame we couldn't all walk back together for once.”

“Rean?”

He froze, feeling like he'd been hit with a bucket of cold water. There was no way he wouldn't instantly recognize that voice, though he'd not heard it in months. It just didn't make any sense that he would hear it at the gates of Thors Military Academy.

But there she was. Two years Rean's junior, clad in the plain black, vaguely ecclesiastical uniform of Saint Astraia Girl's School, long black hair neatly brushed as always, there was no one else it could be. Which raised the question, what was she doing there?

“Elise!?”

Elliot took a step back. “Is that your sister, Rean?”

Rean nodded. “The one and only.” He frowned. “What are you doing here, Elise? So close to curfew at that.”

She didn't reply immediately. “Look deep in your heart and you'll find your answer,” she said, as if that somehow explained everything. She looked past him. “It's a pleasure to meet you all. I'm Elise Schwarzer, Rean's sister.” She curtsied primly. “I'm sorry for interrupting, but could I borrow him for a little while?”

In the hopes of finding at least a little privacy, Rean led her to the main building's roof. Fortunately for his peace of mind, it was otherwise deserted; he especially didn't want to see Beryl, who frequented the place and had a gift for unnerving him. Not that she was one for eavesdropping as far as he knew.

“It's been a while,” Rean commented, hoping to at least break the ice. “Six or seven months since we last saw each other.”

“Yeah,” Elise said, her face and voice giving nothing away. “Since I came back to Ymir at the beginning of the year.” She gave him a brief look of reproach. “But I always thought we'd at least have a chance to meet when you enrolled here, since it's not that far from the capital.”

Rean winced. “Yeah. Sorry about that; I wanted to meet with you, but I've been so busy, and. . . .” He trailed off, seeing she was less than convinced. “Besides, it's not that easy to get permission to leave Saint Astraia's campus, is it?”

“That's completely beside the point,” Elise said in an arch tone. “Heimdallr is only thirty minutes from here by train. Add another twenty to get from Central Station to my school.” She sighed theatrically. “But I suppose fifty minutes is still too much time to spare for a little visit.”

This was not going well. “I really am sorry,” Rean said. “I keep getting hit with classwork, exams, field studies. . . .” He shook his head; nothing but excuses. “But you're right. I could probably have made time, but. . . .” He shrugged helplessly. “Last time I saw you, you seemed so distant. I thought maybe I was starting to be a bother, so I figured it would be best to just stay out of the way.”

For some reason, Elise blushed. “I was never distant,” she said. “Maybe it seemed that way, but only because of some issues I'd rather not talk about.”

Well, that cleared things up not at all. “If something's bothering you, you can talk to me about it.”

“It doesn't matter!” Elise said, shaking her head firmly. “What does matter is I've never once thought of you as a bother, and I swear on Aidios's name that I never will!”

“Really?” Rean said, taken aback. “I'm glad to hear that. All right, I promise I'll clear up some time to visit you in the capital. And you're always welcome to visit me here, too.”

For a brief moment, Elise's eyes seemed to glow. “I'm glad to hear that,” she said, coughing delicately. After growing up together, you're the last person I'd want to feel distant from.

Rean allowed himself a chuckle. “You're right. That said, what was it you came all the way here to talk about? Seems a bit overbearing just for that.”

Elise pursed her lips. “Our lack of communication has been on my mind, but that's not the main reason I came here today. Do you really not know why?”

Rean frowned. “Should I?”

With an exasperated sigh, Elise drew a sheaf of papers from her skirt pocket and held them out without a word.

“That's the last letter I sent you, isn't it?” Rean said, puzzled. “Did you come for the souvenir I got you in the Nord Highlands? I found a cute accessory there I figured you'd like.”

“You did!?” Elise said, but her face quickly closed up again. “That's not why I'm here, either. The issue is the final part of your letter.”

Rean felt a ball of ice form in his stomach. He knew exactly what she was referring to, his decision to partially disassociate himself from House Schwarzer. It was just about the hardest choice he had ever made; Baron Schwarzer and his wife had always loved him as their own son, but the fact remained he was an outsider.

“What did you mean by 'I probably won't be coming home to live'?” Elise demanded. “Or by wanting to repay Mother and Father? You sound like you're planning to sever ties with them.” She glared at him. “You can't honestly be thinking you can quietly bow out of succeeding Father as head of the family.”

Rean sighed. “That's exactly what I'm thinking. I have no intention of becoming the head of the family, or the next Baron Schwarzer.” He winced at the hurt look on his sister's face. “What's so surprising about that? I was adopted, not born into a nobleman's life. The best thing would be for you to marry a good man and have him succeed Dad as baron.”

“That doesn't even make sense!” Elise protested. “Even though you're not related to us by blood, you're still Father's only son, and the right of adopted children to succeed their family name is recognized under Imperial law!”

Rean shook his head. “If the adopted child is of noble blood, or at least that's how it usually goes.” He grimaced at a twinge of bitterness. “What am I? Some kid Dad found in a snowstorm. I couldn't even remember anything before that, just my name. And when he chose to take me in, Dad became the talk of high society, and not in a good way.” He clenched a fist. “People said he was unfaithful to Mom, he was crazy, eccentric, all of the above. One even had the gall to ask if he intended to 'open wide the gates of nobility to some low-born bastard.' Eventually he just got tired of it and almost never left Ymir.” Hearing his voice start to break, Rean forcibly reined himself in. “I've already caused the family too much trouble. I doubt I'll be able to leave the Schwarzer name behind, but I at least want you all to have the respect of your peers, especially since you'll be making your high society debut next year.”

Elise said nothing, only stood there trembling. Clearly she was unconvinced, but Rean wasn't sure what else to say. He'd though long and hard on the matter, and this was the only path he'd been able to find.

“At least try to understand how I feel,” he added. “It's not like I'll be walking out of your lives entirely. Mom and Dad have looked out for me for so long; that's a debt I'll never—”

“You don't get it,” Elise interrupted.

Rean blinked, startled by her vehemence. “Wha?”

“You don't understand how Mother feels, you don't understand how Father feels,” she glared even more fiercely, “and you don't understand how I feel!” Before Rean could formulate a response, she turned on her heel and dashed away.

Uncomprehending, but hurt more than he'd been since his brief misunderstanding with Laura in Celdic, Rean could only stand staring after her. He could understand Elise being upset, but the mixture of anger and hurt he'd sensed from her was simply baffling.

“Well? Why are you just standing there!?” an irritated voice broke into his thoughts.

Rean's head snapped up. His classmates had at some point followed him to the roof; Alisa in particular looked very cross. “What are you. . . .”

“Look, I'm sorry if we overheard,” Alisa said, not sounding sorry at all, “but that's beside the point right now! Don't just stand there, go after her!”

“She was crying,” Emma added.

Rean inhaled sharply. He'd somehow managed not to notice, and it shamed him.

“I know this isn't a simple problem,” Elliot put in, “but you can't just leave things like this. She needs you!”

“You have a duty as family,” Gaius said.

They had a point, but this was getting to be a bit much. Especially when Jusis threw fuel on the fire. “You have a slap or two coming, I'll wager.”

Okay, enough is enough. He wasn't sure what irritated him more, the fact that they had been eavesdropping, or their blithe assumption that he was the one at fault even though he had no idea what Elise's problem was. Kinda hard when she won't tell me.

“I know, I'll go look for her,” Rean said, breaking into a trot. “Just so you know,” he added over his shoulder, “this isn't as simple as you guys seem to think.”

He practically flew down the stairs, but from what he could see Elise had already left. Cursing his own indecision, he bolted out the door and turned east, hoping to find Towa in the Student Union building. He got more than a few odd looks dashing inside, but paid them no mind.

His hopes were answered; not only was Towa still in the Student Council room, but so were Angelica Rogner and of all people Estelle and Joshua Bright.

“Hey, Rean,” Estelle greeted, then frowned. “Hey, are you okay?”

“You look unusually flustered,” Towa agreed. “Did something happen?”

Angelica placed a hand on her hip. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you were in some kind of trouble.”

“I'm looking for my sister,” Rean said. “Have any of you seen her? Long black hair, Saint Astraia uniform.”

The second years shook their heads. “I've been talking to Towa for a while now,” Angelica said, “and then these two came in.” She nodded at the Liberlians. “Still, Rean's sister, huh? A Saint Astraia student with luscious ebon locks. . . .”

“Don't even go there,” Rean cut her off, far too accustomed to Angelica's foibles.

She shrugged easily. “Sorry, couldn't help myself. We'll keep an eye out for her, don't worry.”

“Count us in, too,” Estelle said. “This is what Bracers do, after all.”

Nodding his thanks, Rean left at a brisk pace, hoping he didn't run into Vice-Principal Heinrich, who would likely have scolded him for it no matter the situation. It was at least a load off to have a couple of bracers helping out; it ensured Elise's safety if nothing else.

Checking the gym, he almost collided with Laura. “Whoa, sorry—wait.” He pulled up short. “Are you looking for Elise, too?”

She nodded. “I heard about her disappearance earlier, and have been searching for her since.”

“Thanks,” Rean said. “I appreciate it more than I can say.”

“You should save your thanks until we find her,” Laura said. “I was informed of what happened between you.”

Rean sighed. “Sorry you got dragged into what should have been a family matter,” he said, unable to completely hide his irritation.

“Belonging to the nobility carries many obligations and complications,” Laura said, her tone a welcome relief. “And your family situation is more complex than most. I believe I understand at least some of your frustration.”

Well. At least someone saw where Rean was coming from.

“I do have one question, however,” Laura said. “Could you swear to your sister, with your hand on your heart, that your choice isn't simply your desire to escape that life?”

Rean's first impulse was a hot denial, but the look in his friend's eyes forestalled him. A chill ran down his spine as he realized that angle simply had never entered his mind. It made him feel like an idiot, and all the more determined to track down Elise and straighten things out.

“My apologies, I should not have pried,” Laura said, apparently misinterpreting his silence. “Certainly not when I've my own hesitations to overcome.”

Rean shook his head. “Don't worry about it. Actually, I should thank you; you've helped clear my head a bit.”

Visibly surprised, Laura offered a smile. “In that case, I'm glad to have been of service.”

There was no time to ponder, however. Increasingly desperate, Rean combed every rege of the campus, even checking the classrooms, to no avail. She might as well have simply teleported back to the capital; it was absurd, of course, but Rean couldn't think of any other explanation.

Dammit, where is she!?

“Yo, Lord Rean, you're lookin' down. What, some second-year girl give you the slip?”

Rean was too agitated to give the older student grief about the use of his title. “Not likely. My sister came to visit, but I somehow managed to drive her off. Have you seen her anywhere?”

“Sister, eh? Never would've guessed; you kinda give off that 'only child' vibe.” Crow tapped his foot, thinking. “Come to think of it, I saw a girl who definitely wasn't a Thors student. Long black hair, Saint Astraia uniform, tear-stained cheeks?”

“That's her!” Rean fought the urge to grab Crow by the collar. “Where did you see her? When!?”

“Just a couple minutes ago,” Crow said, “back near the gymnasium. She was talking to one of those upper-class students, really stuck-up. Hyarms, I think it was.”

Rean hissed as if he'd been stung. The thought of Patrick T. Hyarms making a move on his sister was almost enough to make him go for his sword.

“Bingo, huh?” Crow waved for him to follow. “C'mon, I'll show you the way.”

Thankfully, the lackadaisical second year recognized the urgency of the situation. He led Rean unerringly to an area near the main building's courtyard, where a very confused Patrick T. Hyarms stood. Rean couldn't help noticing the upper-class student still maintained an air of haughtiness.

“All right, Patrick, out with it,” Rean bit out. “Where's Elise!? What did you do to her!?”

The haughtiness disappeared as if someone had thrown a switch. “N-Nothing!” Patrick stammered. “I merely offered my assistance, as any gentleman would, but she declined and left. I believe it was in the direction of that dilapidated old building your class visits every month.”

Though Rean felt a certain grim satisfaction at having scared Patrick out of his wits, it was fleeting. “The old schoolhouse? Dammit.” He was almost certain they'd locked up after their latest foray, but he wanted, needed to be sure. He just hoped he wasn't too late.

Seeing Rean Schwarzer make a mad dash for the rear of the campus, accompanied by a stuck-up noble student and a second year who somehow reminded her of Olivier, Estelle knew something serious was going down. She'd only known Rean a few days, granted, but it was enough to know this kind of intensity wasn't like him.

“I'm guessing his sister went that way,” she murmured.

“And that it's someplace she shouldn't have gone,” Joshua said. “We should follow them.”

Exactly what Estelle was thinking. That part of campus hadn't been part of Rean's little tour, which suggested it was secret, dangerous, or both. Certainly not a place a genteel Saint Astraia student had any business wandering around in.

Both was the conclusion she reached a moment later. At the northernmost part of the Thors campus, partially hidden by thick foliage, was a dilapidated old building that reminded Estelle all too strongly of the disused class building at Jenis Royal Academy. If Rean's sister had found her way into a place like that. . . .

“Unlocked?” she heard Rean saying as they caught up. “I was sure we locked up after our exploration today. . . . What are you two doing here?”

“We're here to help,” Estelle said, ignoring the poisonous look the blond noble shot her. “If a civilian is in danger, we can't just sit on the sidelines.”

Rean managed a brief smile. “Thanks,” he said. “Crow, Patrick, you coming?”

“You know it,” the second year said with a grin. “Come on, Pattycakes.”

Estelle stifled a giggle at Patrick's reaction. “Don't call me that!” He seemed to draw himself up. “In any case, I will not disgrace the Erebonian nobility by ignoring an innocent in distress.”

Annoyingly pompous, but at least the guy had a conscience. Giving Joshua a brief nod, Estelle drew her staff. If it was anything like that old building at Jenis, it was abandoned, but not uninhabited. She shuddered; hopefully “inhabited” didn't mean “haunted.”

Inside was dark and gloomy, with a faint musty smell. There were a few boxes, but nothing of particular note save a door at the far end. Beyond that door. . . .

“An elevator?” Joshua said, frowning.

Estelle tightened her grip on her staff. This was starting to remind her of the area beneath Grancel Castle, not exactly a fond memory. Not to mention what had gone down in Crossbell just a couple months earlier.

“So this is what it looks like now,” Crow said, looking around with keen interest.

Rean opened his mouth to reply, closed at at the sound of a female scream. “Elise!?”

“It came from below!” Crow snapped, suddenly all business.

They all had weapons out now, Patrick drawing a rapier and Crow producing a pair of orbal pistols. Estelle was privately impressed at their poise; Thors' reputation was clearly well-earned. Which she knew from experience, granted; she seemed to recall Olivier was an alumnus.

Then the elevator reached its destination, and there was no time for idle musings. A black-haired girl, presumably Rean's sister, lay on the floor unconscious. Towering over her, merely a couple of arge away, was a giant suit of armor, a sword built to scale in its right hand.

Estelle took all this in at a glance. She and Joshua both set themselves, but they never had a chance to strike, for at that moment everything changed.

Rean let out a cry of anguish that deepened into an almost bestial roar. Red-laced black miasma seemed to flow out of him, his eyes began to glow, and his coal black hair faded to a stark white. An instant later he was between Elise and the animated armor, moving with a speed Estelle could only recall seeing from her father. He struck with a series of vicious slashes, always managing to be elsewhere when his opponent tried to counter.

“What the hell?” Joshua breathed, but Rean had another surprise in store.

“Fall to ruin!” His voice echoing strangely, Rean held his sword before his face, pointing downward. Deep purple flames licked down the blade, and he lunged, carving molten grooves in the metal.

What's going on? Estelle wondered, unable to so much as blink. It's like Dad only . . . more brutal, I guess. Not that she could entirely fault him for it, given that his sister was in danger.

All of a sudden, Rean came to a complete stop, left hand clutching his chest. The strange miasma gradually faded, along with the glow in his eyes, and his hair swiftly darkened to its normal black. “No,” he gasped. “Not going to be . . . swallowed by it . . . again.”

All well and good, but that freaky suit of armor was still on its feet. Estelle and Joshua moved to support the Erebonian swordsman, but a loud bang froze them in their tracks. Risking a glance back, Estelle saw Crow in a classic marksman's stance, a lazy grin on his face.

“You guys take care of the girl,” he said. “You, too, Patastrophe.”

Despite the situation, it was hard not to burst out laughing at the look on Patrick's face. “Don't call me that, either!”

Appearing to dismiss him, Crow stepped up next to Rean. “C'mon, let's fire up those combat links!”

“Right,” Rean said, getting his wind back. “And Crow . . . thanks.”

“No prob,” Crow said lazily, but Estelle could see a gleam in his eyes. “Take this, freak!”

Estelle had seen trick shooting before, but never with the kind of artistry Crow Armbrust brought to the table. On the surface, he was barely even trying, but she could tell every move was calculated for maximum advantage. A casual flip here, a sidestep there, all the while pelting the armored monstrosity with bullets.

“Yeah, you're done here!” Arms outstretched, Crow spun in place, guns blazing. Bizarrely, the bullets curved around in mid flight; it looked like he was using some kind of Time art. “Cross Raven!” He snapped his fingers, laughing. “See ya!”

The explosion gave Rean a perfect opening. His sword lit again, with more normal-looking fire instead of the unnerving purple he'd displayed earlier. A downward strike, a quick dodge, and two heavy slashes later, and the animate armor toppled over with a resounding clang.

At which point Crow and Rean both fell to their knees. “Whew!” the former gasped, wiping a hand across his forehead. “Thought I'd finished my crash course in crazy six months ago.”

Rean managed a tired grin. “That's right, you told me you were part of some kind of trial program for Class VII.”

“Yep. Gotta say, though, nothing I went through then was as crazy as this.” Crow pushed himself upright. “I've taken out more monsters than I can count, but I've never run into something like that headless armor.”

The girl on the floor stirred then, letting out a soft groan. “Ugh . . . Rean?”

“Elise!” Rean was at her side in an instant. “Are you all right!?”

She slowly sat up. “I . . . think so.” She looked up at her brother. “You changed again, didn't you?”

“Yeah.” Rean looked briefly sad. “But I was able to get it under control, then Crow helped me out.”

Elise nodded, offering Patrick a brief smile of thanks. “Who are. . . ?”

Pretty obvious who she was referring to. “Estelle and Joshua Bright, Bracers visiting from Liberl.” He smiled wryly at Estelle's look of surprise. “Yeah, as in Cassius Bright. They're giving us a firsthand look at the Guild, or something like that.”

Estelle couldn't help chuckling. “Nice to meet you,” she said with a smile.

“Someone's coming down,” Joshua interrupted.

More than just someone, as it turned out. Sara Valestein, Towa Herschel, Angelica Rogner, a portly student Estelle didn't recognize, and the rest of Class VII had somehow managed to cram themselves onto the platform. Must have been quite a tight squeeze, which only underscored how worried everyone must have been.

“Here's the cleanup crew,” Crow said. “What took you guys so long?”

Angelica stretched languidly. “Come on, Crow, you know I could never pass up a damsel in distress.” She cracked her knuckles. “And I sometimes like a good fight, thought it seems I'm too late for that.”

“Whoa!” the portly student gushed before Crow could respond. “Get a load of that suit of armor! I have got to see what makes it tick!”

Crow chuckled, shaking his head. “I swear, you guys never change.”

Estelle was strongly reminded of her days as a Bracer trainee. Back before she knew the real stakes, before she'd encountered Ouroboros. Before Weissmann and his antics took away her innocence. And almost the most important person in her life.

“I think we need to hear this right from the top,” Sara said, folding her arms.

Emma wasn't really listening. Oh, she was certainly glad Elise Schwarzer was safe, and grateful to the visiting Bracers for their aid. There was no question she was relieved to see Rean alive and well, albeit visibly fatigued. Unfortunately, she had more pressing concerns.

The First Trial, she thought, gazing uneasily at the fallen armor. So it's finally begun. Which means. . . .

It meant a lot of things. It meant Emma's duty was suddenly about a lot more than merely keeping watch. It meant there was something much deeper and more ominous going on in the Empire than just the factional divide. Most important, it meant one of the few friends she'd ever had was going to be dragged into a conflict beyond his imagination, and there was nothing she could do about it.

More immediately, there was the issue of how Rean's sister had wound up in the old schoolhouse in the first place. Emma knew for a fact it had been locked up when they finished that afternoon, and she certainly hadn't been there since. Which left only one possibility.

She surreptitiously glanced about, finally spotting a pair of glowing green eyes high in the rafters. Celine . . . we are going to have a talk about this. I know you're concerned, but to involve innocent people like that is over the line.

Not that she expected her companion to really understand.

Aside from an easily-ignored ache in his left arm, Rean felt more than ready for some action, for once almost eager for the practical exam. He'd chafed against the forced limited activity, not that he was crazy enough to say so out loud. Crossing Instructor Beatrix was never a good idea.

Elise had spent the night in Class VII's dorm after her ordeal. She left the next morning in reasonably good spirits, but made very clear she was not ready to accept Rean's decision. As far as she was concerned, he was the rightful heir to the Schwarzer title and lands, and nothing could change that.

Food for thought all by itself, but Jusis had spoken up out of nowhere. “While it's true I don't know everything about your situation,” he'd said, “one thing is clear to me: from what you've said of him, Baron Teo Schwarzer is everything an Erebonian noble should be. For you to simply renounce your title and leave Ymir would be a slap in the face to the people who raised you as their own.” He'd then smiled grimly. “Besides, the political climate being what it is, our nobility needs more people like you.”

Coming from anyone else (save possibly Laura), Rean would have given it little weight. Coming from Jusis Albarea, bastard born yet determined to live up to the ideal of Erebonian nobility, it carried a great deal of weight. Rean resolved to consider it very carefully when he had time to spare.

Then, of course, there was the matter of the old schoolhouse. Sara had suggested their future excursions would be canceled, on the admittedly reasonable grounds that what had happened to Elise (and almost Rean) meant the area was simply too dangerous.

Class VII was unanimous in objecting, and after a brief back and forth Sara had agreed to talk to Principal Vandyck. From what she'd said later that day, the principal had decided that if Class VII was willing to take the risk, he wasn't going to stop them as long as they weren't too reckless.

Rean was just as glad, for there was one question he had that he'd not mentioned to his classmates. As he dashed into the old schoolhouse in search of Elise, a voice had resounded in his mind. “POTENTIAL AWAKENER WAVEFORM DETECTED WITHIN FIFTY ARGE. COMMENCING THE FIRST TRIAL.”

He couldn't begin to imagine what “potential Awakener” or “First Trial” meant, and the only way he was going to find out was by solving the mystery of the old schoolhouse.

“Welp, it's time for this month's thrilling practical exam,” Sara said, snapping Rean back to the present. “Rean, you sure you don't want to sit this one out?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I'm good as new now, thanks to Instructor Beatrix. Besides, I was starting to go a bit stir crazy.”

Sara laughed. “Can't blame you there. Okay, let's get this show on the road.” She looked the class from one end to the other, lips compressed in thought. “Hmm, yeah, Laura and Fie, you're up first.”

Fie didn't even twitch. “First for what, Instructor?”

“Thought I'd mix things up a little,” Sara said with a grin. “This month's practical will be a friendly two on two. Rean, choose a partner and step up.”

I really should have seen this coming. He had to wonder if their esteemed instructor was trying to use some kind of shock therapy to get Laura and Fie to work together. Granted it hadn't worked for Jusis and Machias, but this situation was more awkward than outright hostile.

Rean still didn't like getting caught up in it. He could hold his own against either, faster than Laura and stronger than Fie. Against both, he needed a skilled partner with a high link compatibility. “Jusis, you up for it?”

The blond noble smiled faintly. “With pleasure.”

“Take your positions,” Sara said crisply. A pause as all four drew their weapons. “Begin!”

Within the first few seconds of battle, two things were made abundantly clear. First, Laura and Fie were unable to establish even a basic combat link, making them dangerously uncoordinated against Rean and Jusis. Second, neither was fighting at her best. Fie was noticeably slower than usual, and Laura's swings seemed almost halfhearted. Rean knew it wasn't her personal fondness for him; if anything, that made her more likely to try and beat the tar out of him in a match. Anything less she would have considered disrespectful.

Still, even in that state Rean knew Laura would be deeply offended if he took it easy on her; as near as he could tell, the only holding back she would tolerate was the obvious “no causing your partner permanent injury” rule. Which left him no choice but to exploit pretty much every opening she gave him.

He parried a vertical strike and stepped to one side, just as Jusis repelled an attempt by Fie to blindside him. Thanks to their combat link, he knew exactly what to do next; an instant later they switched positions, Rean's tachi intercepting Fie's gun-swords while Jusis redirected Laura's huge blade into the dirt.

Fie's ARCUS started glowing, signaling a charging art. Knowing how tricky the former jaeger could be, Rean wasn't about to give her time to unleash it. Lowering his sword, he turned slightly and drove forward with his right shoulder, knocking her sprawling.

Behind him, Jusis's clash with Laura ended just as abruptly. A couple of quick steps, a twist of his wrist, and he tore Laura's greatsword from her hands, effectively ending the match.

“And Rean's team is the winner.” Sara sounded sad but unsurprised. “I don't even have to say anything, do I?”

“No, Instructor,” Laura said glumly. Fie offered a silent nod.

Unlike with Jusis and Machias, Instructor Sara appeared more sympathetic than irritated. Then again, also unlike Jusis and Machias, Laura and Fie knew there was a problem, and were at least trying to work it out. If anything, they were probably more frustrated than Sara.

After a few more two-on-twos produced nothing of note, Sara clapped her hands. “Okay, then, it's time to announce this month's field study. Everyone, take one of these.”

Looking at the nondescript sheet of paper, Rean felt a strange mixture of annoyance and resignation. Both groups were being sent to the Imperial capital Heimdallr, just a stone's throw away from Trista. Both also had the same makeup as the previous month, save that Rean had switched groups. He was pretty sure he knew why.

“Heimdallr, eh?” Elliot mused. “Machias and I will have kind of a home field advantage, eh?”

“Yeah,” Machias agreed. “Guess it makes sense for both groups to be going there, Heimdallr being such a huge city. Still, these groupings. . . .”

Jusis chuckled softly. “It seems only one person has switch groups this month.”

Rean sighed. “Instructor, I have no problem with the study location, or the group assignments.” He folded the paper and tucked it in his shirt pocket. “But I can't help feeling like I'm being used. Again.”

His instructor averted her eyes, a tuneless whistle escaping her lips.

“That innocent whistle isn't fooling anyone!” Rean said, already feeling a headache coming on. Dear Aidios, it's going to be a long weekend.