Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The standard disclaimers apply

March 31, Year 1204 of the Septian Calendar

The lino flowers are blooming.

It had been quite a long trip, the young man mused absently. His hometown was several hours away by train, far enough that he'd had to board before dawn if he wanted to make it in time. Almost no one was awake that early, but he was used to it. At least his parents had been able to see him off.

Back home, there was still snow on the ground. Guess that shows you how different things are this far south. He ran a hand through his messy black hair. Almost there.

Rean Schwarzer leaned back in his seat. In a way, it was a somewhat belated seventeenth birthday present. He'd all but begged his parents to send him to Thors Military Academy, the most prestigious such institution in all of Erebonia. Founded more than two centuries before by the Emperor Dreichels Reise Arnor, known to history as Dreichels the Lionheart, only the very best of Erebonia's youth, noble and commoner alike, were able to attend. Rean himself had placed fairly high on the entrance exams, but it had been the most difficult thing he'd ever done outside his sword training.

Now he wore the uniform of a Thors student, like and yet unlike many of the other passengers. Most of the Thors students he saw were clad in the green jackets of commoner students. However, while Rean wore the standard dark trousers and white shirt of the male uniform, his jacket was a deep red. He'd seen two others in red, a long-haired blond girl and a boy with flaming hair, though the boy wore a vest instead. It puzzled Rean to no end, as did the unusual orbment he'd received, but he assumed it would be explained at orientation.

At last, the train groaned to a halt. Slinging his long, narrow bag over his shoulder, Rean stepped off the train and got his first sight of the town of Trista.

He paused just outside the station, spellbound. Most of the aristocracy, he supposed, would consider Trista quaint. With his more rustic background, Rean thought it breathtakingly beautiful. A cafe was visible not far from the station, next to what looked like a bookstore. A couple of other shops he couldn't readily identify ringed a small park, complete with a fountain. He could just barely see a church in the near distance, and to the extreme north, the heart and soul of Trista, the sprawling campus of Thors Military Academy.

“So this will be home for the next two years,” he murmured. “I wonder how long it'll be before I really feel at home—oof!”

Something impacted him from behind. Quickly spinning around, Rean's red eyes widened. The blond girl he'd seen on the train earlier lay sprawled at his feet, unhurt but plainly startled.

“Sorry!” he said, extending a hand to help her up. “I should've picked a better place to take in the scenery.”

The girl gripped his hand firmly. “Don't worry about it,” she said, brushing off her skirt. “It's at least as much my fault; I should've been watching where I was going.”

“I don't blame you,” Rean said. “Trista really is a beautiful town.”

“It sure is,” the girl agreed. “Like a picture on a postcard.” Her eyes lit on his jacket, “Hey, you've got the red uniform, too. Maybe we'll be classmates.”

Rean shrugged. “I've been wondering about that. Only saw a couple of red uniforms on the train, and you were one of them. Dunno if there's enough of us to make a full class.”

“Guess we'll find out at orientation.” The girl smiled and patted his shoulder. “See you at the entrance ceremony.”

“Yeah, see you.” Watching her go, Rean scratched the back of his head. “Completely forgot to ask her name, or introduce myself for that matter. Eh, I'll probably find out soon enough.”

Glancing at his watch, he saw there was still some time before he needed to report in. Deciding to take it at a leisurely pace, soaking in his new surroundings, he strolled into the park he'd noticed before the blond girl bumped into him. A nice place, he thought, for a break from studying.

Apparently he wasn't the only one who thought so. Rean paused beside one of the benches, a small part of him wondering if things were always this strange in Trista. A young girl lay sprawled across it, sound asleep. Rean would have just let her be, except the silver-haired girl wore a red jacket, marking her as a Thors student.

Should I wake her up? It's not that long until the entrance ceremony. Before he could make up his mind, the girl blinked sleepily and sat up, stretching. Rean couldn't help noticing the bow at her throat was askew.

“Guess I'd better get going,” she said with a yawn. Golden eyes glanced briefly at Rean in bored acknowledgment, and then she was off at a trot.

Rean shook his head. Well, that was . . . different. Is she really a Thors student? She can't be older than fifteen. He quickly put the matter out of his mind; the strange encounter had taken longer than he'd thought. Time to pick up the pace.

He had one stop left, however. One thing that both his parents and Sunday School had drilled into him was to always pay his respects to Aidios when he arrived in a new place, especially at such an important time in his life. Conveniently, the church was right in his path.

The chapel was mostly deserted, unsurprising for the time of day, but there was someone right in front of the altar. Significantly taller than Rean, with slightly wild brown hair, he wore a red vest in the same style as the redheaded boy Rean had seen on the train. Another potential classmate, then.

Rean took a quiet step forward, not wanting to disturb someone in the midst of prayer. Apparently it wasn't quiet enough, because the tall youth half-rose and looked back at him. “Sorry, am I in your way?”

His accent wasn't familiar, which suggested he wasn't Erebonian at all. An exchange student, maybe? Odd for a military academy. “No, don't worry about it,” Rean said, shaking his head. “I was trying not to disturb you, actually.”

The other teen smiled. “It's fine, I was just finishing up anyway. May the Goddess and the winds guide your path.” With a courteous nod, he stepped past Rean and out of the chapel.

The Goddess and the winds? Where's that guy from, anyway?

A question best left for later; that last stopover had left him with very little time if he didn't want to be late. With a brief bow in the priest's general direction, Rean stepped out, quickening his pace. He estimated he could make it to Thors with perhaps ten minutes to spare, provided he didn't make any more detours.

I'll have plenty of time to explore Trista later, he told himself, moving at a brisk walk. Even military academy students get some time off, after all.

He'd very nearly reached the gate when a flash of red caught his eye. Rean slowed his pace, curious. As he'd thought, it was another red-clad Thors student, a girl almost as tall as he was, with long blue hair tied back in a ponytail, save for one strand that hung down the left side of her face. Judging by the way she stood, he deduced that she was like him a swordsman, albeit of a different school.

“I shall take my leave here, milady.” The speaker was an elderly man with the bearing of a high-class butler. Elderly, but by no means frail; to Rean's eye, it appeared the butler also had considerable skill with a blade. Interesting. “I pray you find victory here, both in your training and your studies.” He held out what appeared to be a sword case.

The girl took it with a smile. “Thank you, Klaus,” she said. “I'm leaving everything in your hands while Father is away. Please take care.”

Rean watched her go, frowning very slightly. Something about her was tugging at his mind, and it wasn't her obvious skill with a sword. There was something almost familiar about her, which didn't make much sense as he was pretty sure they'd never actually met.

Must be my imagination, he thought, then realized the butler was looking at him. “Oh, sorry, I kinda spaced out there.”

“No, it is I who should apologize, young sir,” the butler said, bowing from the waist. “It truly is a splendid day, is it not? The start of a new chapter in the lives of so many promising youths!”

Uh, okay? Rean hadn't heard language quite that formal outside Sunday School, that he could remember at least.

“Allow me to express my sincerest congratulations on your admittance to this fine academic institution,” the butler said.

Caught flat-footed, Rean could only say, “Thank you very much. I've wanted to come here for a long time.”

“Excellent,” the mustachioed butler said with another bow. “Now, if you'll excuse me.”

Rean glanced back, then shrugged and followed in the girl's wake. If that guy is a butler, then the girl must be nobility, he thought, nodding absently at green-clad first year. She did have a certain dignity about her. Maybe she's from a famous military family. But if she is a noble, how come she's wearing red? And why did she seem so familiar?

Another question that could wait. He'd finally reached the main gate. “So this is Thors Military Academy,” he said to himself. “Founded by none other than the legendary Emperor Dreichels.” He could see the main building directly ahead, dominating the landscape. A number of buildings of similar and smaller size dotted the campus, and he could just barely see a wide field down a slope to the west.

Once more, his sense of wonder was almost his undoing. Rean hurriedly stepped to one side just in time to avoid too close an encounter with a large vehicle. An orbal limousine, he realized after the initial shock, deep green in color. Looked like one of the latest models from the Reinford Group.

A middle-aged man, presumably the chauffeur, opened one of the rear doors, and yet another red-clad student climbed out. A boy who looked to be around Rean's age, with short blond hair, icy blue eyes, and a general bearing that just screamed “high nobility.” No dilettante, though, that much was clear.

“Please, allow me to take your luggage,” the chauffeur said, bowing.

For some reason, the offer seemed to irritate the blond boy. “That won't be necessary,” he said. “I'd prefer to avoid standing out too much.”

The chauffeur's eyes widened slightly. “But, sir. . . .” he began, sounding scandalized.

“This is not a matter for debate,” the boy said, his voice cooling noticeably. “Rest if you need to, then return to Bareahard.”

The chauffeur clearly didn't like it, but equally clearly knew he'd lost. “As you wish. May your time in this hallowed halls be all that you hoped for, please, take care of yourself.”

Well, that was different. Rean looked at the departing limo, then back at the gate. He's gotta be nobility, probably even higher than that girl from before. So even Erebonia's upper crust send their kids here. Which made him wonder even more about the red uniform; he would have expected someone so highborn to be in white.

“Welcome to Thors Military Academy!”

The speaker was a petite girl in the green uniform of a commoner. From the looks of her, she almost had to be a first year, and barely that. Indeed, she barely looked old enough to be out of Sunday School. She wore her light brown hair long, tied in a neat braid.

With her was a boy who at least looked old enough to be a Thors student, though he was definitely on the chubby side. The yellow jumpsuit he wore didn't exactly look like a Thors uniform, either.

The girl consulted a clipboard. “You're the last, so you'd be . . . Rean Schwarzer, right?”

“That's me,” Rean acknowledged, feeling just a bit confused. “It's a pleasure to meet you. But, ah, how do you know me?”

She chuckled. “It's a long story. The details don't matter right now.”

“Is that your weapon you've got wrapped up there?” her companion asked. “I'll need to hold on to it for a while.”

Rean suppressed a grimace. He'd known it was coming, of course, but he didn't like it. “The guidebook said something about that,” he said, reluctantly handing it over.

“Thanks,” the boy said. “We'll be able to return it soon. You'll hardly even miss it.”

Says you. Rean had grown to accustomed to the weight to be comfortable without it, especially with a total stranger. Oh, well, he was probably just being paranoid.

“The entrance ceremony is going to be held in the auditorium,” the girl said. “Just head right to the back, you can't miss it.” She smiled. “I hope you enjoy your first day at Thors.”

Rean took a few steps in the direction, but paused to look back. Are they really second years? The girl looks younger than I am. And what was that about me being the last? I'm not the last student to check in, am I? He shook his head, hearing a commotion in the direction of the auditorium. No time for that; it sounds like the ceremony is about to start.

With his small-town background, Rean was unprepared for the sheer size of the Thors auditorium. By his rough estimate, the building could seat upwards of five hundred people, though from what he could see there were perhaps one hundred students, counting himself. Of that number, around thirty wore the white of the nobility, with the rest a sea of green.

And in that sea of green, he'd counted a grand total of eight who wore the same red uniform. Nowhere near enough for a full class.

The principal, a powerfully-built man who looked to be in his fifties, was winding up a surprisingly interesting speech. “Now, if I may, I'd like to say a few words in closing about this academy's illustrious history.” Principal Vandyck, who wore what looked like an Imperial Army uniform, stood tall, his eyes sweeping over the assembled students. “Thors Military Academy was founded 220 years ago. As I'm sure you're all aware, its founder was the great Emperor Dreichels, who ended the War of the Lions and restored peace and prosperity to the Erebonian Empire.”

Straight from the history books. Not that Rean was about to complain; that kind of history lesson needed repeating. Especially in an academy founded by the Lionheart.

“Thirty years after the war, in the later years of his life, he opened the doors of this institution. It was to be a place where young people like yourselves would learn the art of war. However, with the mechanization of the military over the last half century, many of our graduates pursue careers outside the army.”

For his part, Rean hadn't yet made a decision. On the one hand, with his background he was a shoe-in for the officer corps. On the other, he wasn't at all sure if army life was for him. The one thing he was sure of was if he did go that route, it would be the Imperial Army, not the Nortia Provincial Army. His father had had many unkind things to say about the provincials.

“Our mission, however, remains the same: to prepare our students to fulfill Emperor Dreichels' famous mandate.” Vandyck leaned forward, gripping the lectern, and his deep voice resounded through the auditorium. “'Arise, O youth, and become the foundation of the world!' Though much has changed in the past two-and-a-quarter centuries, this world remains the domain of the young. Yet the question remains, what qualities are necessary to become that foundation? I hope this will serve as a guide and inspiration for you in your two years at this academy.”

The foundation of the world, huh? He gives a good speech. Such a line would ordinarily have sounded trite, but Rean had to admit there was a certain power in the way Principal Vandyck had presented it. Helped that he genuinely believed what he was saying; Rean had seen enough oily politicians to tell that much.

There was a slightly chuckle to his immediate right. “The foundation of the world. No pressure, right?”

Rean turned his head. It was the redheaded boy he'd seen on the train. “No kidding, this is Dreichels the Lionheart we're talking about. You don't get a nickname like that by taking the easy road.” His lip twitched. “Guess passing exams is the least of our worries.”

“And how,” the redhead agreed. “Oh, my name's Elliot Craig. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

Rean took it, grasping firmly. “Rean Schwarzer.” He smiled. “Looks like we're sporting the same school fashion. Horned lion emblem is the same as normal, but I still don't get what the color means.”

“Me, neither,” Elliot said. “Most of the others are wearing green. Except for them,” he nodded at a cluster of white-clad students in the front row, “they're the nobles, I guess.”

“And that brings us to the end of Thors two hundred fifteenth entrance ceremony,” the vice principal interrupted. He looked a bit younger than Vandyck, and lacked both the principal's military bearing and his charisma. Probably aristocracy, judging by the way he carried himself. “Next, please proceed to the class designated in your guidebook. You will go over the school rules there, as well as your curriculum.”

And just like that, Rean was hopelessly lost. While the guidebook had provided a general overview of Thors, a bit about its history, and so on, it said nothing at all about which class he was assigned to. He doubted the omission was accidental, but that made it all the more confusing.

“The class designated in our guidebook?” Elliot repeated, frowning. “I didn't see anything like that.”

“Neither did I,” Rean said. “I just assumed we'd be told where to go after the ceremony.”

A singsong female voice interrupted. “Aaaaaaall right, students in red uniforms, if I could have your attention, please?”

The lone remain instructor was a red-haired woman in her mid-twenties. She wore a blue coat over a tan skirt and blouse, along with long brown boots. She appeared innocent, almost whimsical, but Rean could see something more. Whoever this woman was, she was not to be trifled with.

“You guys are probably all confused. 'Where's my class assignment?' bet that's what you're thinking.” She smiled, just a little. “I don't blame you—your situation is just a bit more complicated than the other students'. I'll explain soon enough, but before that I'd like you all to join me for a special orienteering exercise.”

Okay, why does that sound ominous?

“What!?” The startled explanation came from a bespectacled boy with dark green hair cut short.

The blond Rean had met earlier spoke up. “Do you mean an orientation exercise?”

No, I'm pretty sure she meant exactly what she said.

“Oh, don't worry!” the instructor said, a little too cheerfully. “Everything will be made clear soon enough. Now, right this way, please.”

Well, that was . . . different. Rean still had no idea who the instructor was, but she wasn't behaving like any kind of teacher he had ever heard of. For one thing, she was enjoying herself just a little too much for his peace of mind. Almost like she was trolling them.

“Guess we'll have to follow her if we want answers,” the tall boy he'd met earlier said.

Elliot looked back at Rean. “Any idea what's going on?”

Rean shrugged. “Got me, but we're not going to learn anything standing around here. Let's go.”

From the looks of it, their prospective classmates were every bit as confused as the instructor led them who-knew-where. Most of the other students, noble and commoner alike, appeared to be heading for the main school building. The nine in red, however, found themselves in a small clearing all but hidden by trees and brush. And in its center. . . .

“What is this place?” Elliot wondered.

“And why would it be on the Thors campus?” Rean added. “It's so dilapidated, it should have been torn down years ago.”

Nevertheless, it was obviously their destination. Whistling a happy tune, the instructor unlocked the ancient-looking double doors and beckoned them inside. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Rean followed the others in. This was not how he imagined his first day at school would turn out.

Towa Herschel was downright frazzled. Okay, more frazzled than usual; her duties as Student Council President had taken up a lot of her time as it was, but helping arrange things for the new experimental class had doubled her workload in one fell swoop. She was starting to forget was sleep was.

Up ahead, on a ridge overlooking the old schoolhouse, she could hear familiar voices arguing. As usual. Towa suppressed a sigh; Crow Armbrust and Angelica Rogner were among her closest friends, but the way they clashed could be very trying at times.

“Did you just sneer at me!?” Crow was saying. “You did, didn't you!”

Enough is enough. “Come on, no fighting,” Towa said.

Clad in the green uniform of a commoner, a bandana holding his silver hair in place, Crow was almost as tall as the exchange student. “Heya. You got our little chickadees all sorted out?”

“Yep,” Towa said with a smile. “They're all bright-eyed and ready to go. So we need to do everything we can to support them from here on out!” She gave Crow a pointed look; in addition to an unfortunate fondness for gambling, he was arguably the biggest slacker Thors had ever seen.

Angelica smirked. “Now you sound like the Student Council President.” Dressed in dark leather, her violet hair cut short, an outside observer would never have guessed she was heir to one of the Four Great Houses.

“If we don't help 'em out at least a little, you can bet they'll be in over their heads,” George Nome added. “Everything ready on your end?”

“You got it. Just like the instructor asked.” Angelica rested one hand on her hip. “Can't help but feel sorry for them, though.”

Crow turned to look down at the old schoolhouse. “No kidding. They've got no idea what they're in for.”

The inside of the building was just as decrepit as the outside. Rean saw a couple of crates against one wall, but otherwise the room was empty, their footsteps echoing in the dimness. He felt a spike of anger at having been forced to surrender his weapon, however temporarily. Finding himself unarmed in such a strange place made him nervous.

The instructor climbed a short flight of stairs to a raised dais. “Name's Sara Valestein,” she said. “I'm the instructor in charge of Class VII, which means you boys and girls have the pleasure of seeing me all year.” She smirked in a way Rean found very unnerving.

Class . . . VII? Aren't there only five classes at Thors?

“That's odd,” the blue-haired girl said. “I wasn't told anything about this at enrollment.”

Another student raised her hand, a bespectacled, busty (Rean ordered himself to ignore that part) girl with long lavender hair done in a thick braid. “Excuse me, Instructor Sara. I was under the impression there were only five classes here at Thors, with students split among them based on social class and home region.”

Sara smiled. “Right you are, Miss Top Scorer on the Thors entrance exam. Normally that is how it goes, two classes for the nobility and three for commoners. But this year we decided to shake things up a little. We now have a sixth class, fittingly named . . . Class VII.”

Not sure if “fitting” is the word I would choose. “Weird,” maybe.

“And in Class VII, we recognize no distinction between noble and commoner,” Sara went on.

There was one question answered, at least. Rean had expected to receive a white uniform when he was accepted, and his new friend Elliot was obviously a commoner. Whatever Class VII was all about, it was clearly an experiment; he'd never even heard of mixing nobles and commoners like that.

Which did leave one puzzling issue. “So, you just jumped from V to VII?” he pressed.

“And you're putting nobles and commoners in the same class?” the blond girl added, sounding more than a little shocked.

Before the instructor could respond, there was an outraged choking sound off to Rean's right. “Is this some kind of joke!?” the green-haired boy shouted, his face already an alarming shade of red. “And why is this the first I've heard of it!?”

Sara peered at him, frowning. “Well, uh, who are you again?”

Her puzzlement seemed to rile the student further. “My name is Machias Regnitz,” he bit out. “And with all due respect, Instructor,” he said, not sounding particularly respectful, “mixing nobles and commoners like this is ludicrous, insane even.” He gritted his teeth. “Am I supposed to spend my next two years shoulder-to-shoulder with those arrogant, stuck-up hedonists!?”

Rean covered a wince. There's no way for him to know, he reminded himself. Maybe he has a good reason.

“Um, you do know I'm not the one who made the decision, right?” Sara said a bit querulously. “No use ranting at me about it.” She grinned. “Besides, you're all just kids! Can't you just . . . get along or something?”

This time Rean did wince. From what he'd seen of Machias so far, there was no way it would be that easy.

Machias barked a single scoffing laugh. “And just what makes you think that is going to happen?” The blond probable-noble next to him made a sound of dry amusement, drawing a glare. “And what's with you?”

The blond boy smiled faintly. “Oh, nothing really. I just find the irony of your behavior amusing is all.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Machias said, his voice fairly oozing sarcasm. “It seems the scion of some great noble house has deigned to leave the comfort of his mansion and grace the unwashed masses with his wisdom! Please, milord, share your esteemed name with us so I can show you the respect you deserve!”

It was hard to tell how the noble felt about that line. “Jusis Albarea,” he said. “Though I somehow doubt the name of an 'arrogant, stuck-up hedonist' would stick in that hard head of yours.”

Only the self-control Rean had learned in his intensive sword training kept him from taking a reflexive step back. He knew the name Albarea as well as anyone else. To find himself classmates with someone from that family strained credulity nearly to the breaking point.

“From one of the Four Great Houses,” Elliot gasped, swallowing.

“The son of Duke Albarea, lord of the southeastern Kreuzen Province,” Rean breathed. “Talk about rarefied heights.”

The blond girl grunted agreement. “You don't get much more noble than that,” she said. “Maybe House Cayenne, but that's about it short of the Imperial Family.”

“I'd heard rumors about it,” the blue-haired girl murmured.

If anything, Machias appeared even angrier. “Am I supposed to be impressed or something!?” he snarled. “I don't give a damn about your family lineage! I'll never bend my knee to—”

“That's enough, you two,” Sara interrupted. “I'm sure at least a couple of you have some grievances, but this isn't the time. I'll listen to your complaints later. Right now you have your orienteering exercise, and there's no way I'll keep you from our fun little icebreaker!”

Now that . . . definitely sounds ominous.

Apparently the blond girl agreed. “You mentioned this before,” she said, sounding just a bit uneasy. “What exactly does it involve?”

“Isn't it a form of outdoor competition?” the bespectacled girl said. “Kind of a cross between a map-reading exercise and a scavenger hunt?”

The way Instructor Sara's acting, I really doubt that's it.

His mind suddenly flashed back an hour, seeing again the petite girl and somewhat heavyset boy, and handing over his sword. There was a connection, no doubt about it. On the one hand, it meant he wouldn't be unarmed for much longer. On the other, there was likely a pressing—and unpleasant—reason.

“Is that why we were told to hand over our weapons at the gate?” Rean asked, eying the instructor suspiciously.

She looked both surprised and impressed that he'd figured it out. “You're a sharp one,” she admitted, slowly backing up. “But I really don't want to spoil the fun, so let's get started, shall we?” It was hard to tell from that angle, but it looked like she was pressing a button.

And the floor dropped out from under them.

What the hell!? The floor that had been perfectly stable seconds before now sloped at roughly a forty-five degree angle. Rean just barely caught himself, but he doubted he could maintain his hold for long. Muttering about Sara Valestein in terms that would almost certainly have gotten him grounded for a year back home, he tried to haul himself up.

Until a frightened yell distracted him. The blond girl was sliding inexorably toward the edge, a look of enraged helplessness on her face. With no other option, Rean lunged at her; if he couldn't stop the fall completely, he could at least cushion the impact.

He landed on his back, the girl on top of him. At first all he could do was take slow, agonizing breaths; though he wasn't, as far as he could tell, seriously injured, the fall had stunned him. Coherent thought slowly returned, and with it a realization that something soft was pressing into his face. Horror followed when he grasped what that something was.

I am so dead. Hoping to at least mitigate the danger, Rean kept his hands well out to his sides. Probably futile, but there was really nothing else he could do.

“Ugh, what happened?” the girl said groggily. An instant later she was on her feet, her face as red as her uniform.

Here it comes. “Look, uh, I'm really sorry about that. . . .”

The slap came so fast he didn't even see it. She must've broken the sound barrier; the next thing Rean knew, the girl was standing well away from him, firmly not looking in his direction.

“Not your day, is it?” Elliot commented in a low voice.

Rean grimaced. “I've had worse, but not lately. Oh, well, now that I've hit bottom,” both literally and figuratively, “there's nowhere to go but up. I hope.”

Putting it out of his mind for the time being, Rean took stock of his surroundings. The room he and his classmates had been dropped into was for the most part wide and empty, save for the nine tables that lined the walls. And if he wasn't mistaken, on one of those tables was the bag he'd been asked to surrender on arrival.

A loud ringing almost made him jump out of his skin. He looked around wildly for a bare instant, until he realized the sound was coming from the pouch his new orbment was tucked into.

“It's coming from the orbments we received with the guidebooks,” the bespectacled girl said.

“Right you are!” Sara's voice said. “These handy little devices are a brand-new kind of battle orbment.”

Machias frowned. “Orbments with built-in communications functionality? That's new.”

The blond girl inhaled sharply. “Wait, are you saying these are—”

“New-model battle orbments made jointly by the Epstein Foundation and the Reinford Group,” Sara confirmed. “Fifth-generation battle orbments called ARCUS units.”

Rean gave the blond girl a sharp look. He couldn't say for sure, but something about her expression said she knew more than she was letting on. A mixture of understanding, suspicion, and irritation, coupled with a bit of “What the hell is going on here?”

“I've prepared enough quartz for all of you,” Sara said. “They're in the boxes next to the weapons you brought with you here. They'll give you all the arts you need.”

Rean wasn't much of an arts user, though he could handle them well enough. Right now, he was just glad to be armed again. He carefully opened the package, revealing a long sword in a dark brown scabbard. The grip was a deep purple, the ornate guard silver.

The quartz was unusual, not a type he'd seen. “It's called a 'master quartz',” Sara said. “Go ahead and slot it in.”

Rean obeyed, and jumped when the ARCUS unit lit up. “What the!?”

“Nothing to worry about,” Sara said, sounding amused. “The light means you've successfully synchronized with your ARCUS, so you'll be able to use arts. And a couple more handy features.” Rean could just see her smirk. “I wouldn't want to overload your brains just now, so we'll go over that later. Anyway, now that you're all set up, here's what I want you to do.” With a brief rumble, a door Rean hadn't noticed slid open. “When you step through there, you'll be in an underground testing area. Think of it as a dungeon.”

Yeah, that's what I want to hear on my first day.

“It's pretty large, with plenty of twists and turns,” Sara went on. “It's almost guaranteed you'll get lost at least once. When you find the exit, you'll be able to return to the first floor.” Her voice turned almost serious. Almost. “There are monsters wandering about, though, so don't let your guard down even for an instant!”

That's reassuring, Rean thought acidly. On the bright side, he'd have a way to vent his frustrations.

“Now, let's commence our special orienteering exercise!” Sara said cheerfully. “Your objective is simple: find your way back to the surface. Make it back in one piece and I'll be happy to field any complaints you have. I might even give you a kiss . . . on the cheek, of course.” The line went dead.

Shaking his head, Rean gathered with his classmates near the door. Despite some friction (the blond girl refused to even look at him, and Jusis and Machias were an obvious powder-keg), they were for the moment united in sheer bafflement, leavened with a certain amount of annoyance at their instructor.

“It's crazy, but I don't think she's joking,” the blond girl said.

Jusis simply grunted in annoyance and turned to leave. “Just where do you think you're going?” Machias demanded. “Were you just planning to wander off on your own without a word!?”

This is gonna be trouble.

Jusis spitted him with a cold stare. “I have no interest in making friends, and it's quite surprising you of all people give a damn what I do.” He smiled thinly. “Unless you've decided to keep company with one of those 'stuck-up hedonists' after all. But if you're afraid, I suppose I could accompany you. After all, what kind of Erebonian noble would I be if I didn't have at least some prowess with a blade?”

That last, though delivered in a tone caustic enough to burn steel, was clearly no joke. Rean could see it in his stance.

Machias, of course, didn't see it that way. “What the hell!?” he shouted. “Since when are we asking you to deign to help us!?” He stalked past the cold-faced noble. “If that's how it's going to be, I'll just find my own way out before you do!” His lip curled in a sneer. “I can take care of myself without some relic of an outdated class system holding my hand every step of the way!”

Rean shook his head, watching them go. “Those two are going to be trouble,” he said to no one in particular.

“Be that as it may, I see no alternative but to explore these ruins ourselves,” the blue-haired girl said. “However, I believe it would be prudent to remain in small groups.” She looked at the blond and the girl with glasses. “Would you care to accompany me?”

The blond shrugged. “I'm fine with it.”

“It would be a huge help,” the other girl agreed.

The blue-haired girl nodded. “And you're welcome to join us as . . . well?”

Rean almost laughed. While the rest of them were discussing their options, the silver-haired girl had decided to just up and leave. Even as he watched, she disappeared around a corner, not saying a word. Hopefully she would be able to take care of herself.

“I suppose that's a no. Perhaps we'll run into her along the way.” With a vague shrug, she looked at Rean and the other boys. “I'm sure you gentlemen will be fine,” her golden eyes lingered on Rean's sword, “but please do take care.”

The remaining girls filed out, though not before the blond shot Rean a dirty look. He didn't blame her, but at the same time, it was frustrating; embarrassing, sure, but it was an accident. Not an auspicious start to his time as a member of Class VII.

“Not exactly a great first impression, huh?” Elliot said drily.

Rean grunted. “No kidding. I'll have to clear things up with her later . . . if she'll let me.” He shrugged. “Anyway, think we should stick together, too?”

“Sounds good to me,” Elliot said fervently. “I'd be scared out of my wits wandering around alone in a place like this.”

The tall boy smiled, and from behind his back drew out a modest-sized spear. “I'll be happy to accompany you. My name is Gaius Worzel. I just arrived in the Empire, so any help you can give would be appreciated.”

Rean's eyebrows lifted a bit. “An exchange student, huh? I did wonder.” He offered a brief bow. “I'm Rean Schwarzer. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“I'm Elliot Craig,” Elliot supplied. He eyed Gaius's spear curiously. “You fight with that?”

Gaius smiled. “Wouldn't be any point in carrying it if I didn't.”

And his stance showed he was no amateur. Rean gave the weapon a closer look. “Looks like a spear, but I don't think I've seen one with a cross-shaped head like that.”

“You can think of it as combining the best parts of a spear and a poleaxe,” Gaius said, twirling the weapon lightly. “I was pretty handy with it back home.” He glanced at Elliot. “Speaking of weapons, yours looks pretty unique.”

Elliot blinked. “Oh, this?” His hands were slightly white-knuckled as he gripped a peculiar staff, capped with an oblong device that looked suspiciously like an orbment. “It's called an orbal staff, basically an orbment and a staff in one. Still new tech; this one's a prototype.” He shrugged. “Back during enrollment, they said I had an aptitude for it, and it's not like I've had any regular weapons training.” He cocked his head, looking at Rean's side. “That aside, I'm kinda curious about yours, Rean.”

A classmate expressing interest in his sword was a bit of a surprise, but not particularly unwelcome. Rean smoothly drew the weapon and held it out for Elliot and Gaius to see. It was an exotic blade, unlike the kinds used by the Imperial military or nobility. A bit over one arge in length, it was single-edged, and slightly curved at the tip. To Rean it was practically an extension of his arm.

“Doesn't look like an Imperial weapon,” Gaius remarked. “I'm still new to the Empire, though, so I could be mistaken.”

“No, you're right,” Rean said. “It's an Eastern style of sword called a tachi. Really, though, it's an Eastern longsword, come down to it.”

Elliot whistled in admiration. “Now that is a beautiful blade.”

“The craftsmanship is exceptional,” Gaius agreed. “I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it.”

Rean smiled. “They're renowned for the layering of the steel and keen edges. To tell the truth, though, I'm still a bit hesitant to be swinging something like this around.”

Elliot's eyes widened. “You call that hesitant? Man, if that's hesitant, confidence would make you unstoppable!”

“I'd say you're a good guy to have around when things get tough,” Gaius observed. “That said, I think we've stood around long enough. It's about time we got ourselves into trouble.”

Rean snorted gently, sheathing his sword. “Oh, I think we can guarantee that. You saw how trouble drops in on me. Let's take it slow and steady, though; we need to learn and adapt to each others' fighting styles.” Elliot, he suspected, would be a ranged support type, while Gaius's spear made midrange the most logical.

They moved out in a loose triangle, Rean and Gaius in front, Elliot between and behind them. Rean kept his eyes and ears open, straining his senses for any sign of life. He could tell his classmates were in there somewhere, and also that Instructor Sara hadn't been joking about the monsters.

The first attack would have been without warning, except Rean (and Gaius by the look of him) had picked up on the threat. Rean's sword came up in a vicious arc, neatly bisecting a winged feline creature similar to a type he'd often fought near his home. In the corner of his eye, he saw Gaius impale a second such monster on his spear, while behind them Elliot let out a startled yelp and released some kind of energy blast from his staff, frying an armored insect that had tried to ambush them in the confusion.

“Please tell me there aren't more of those things lurking around in here,” Elliot said when he'd had a chance to catch his breath.

Gaius grimaced. “Sorry to say, but I can sense a lot more farther in.”

“Me, too,” Rean agreed. “Stay alert, guys.”

They continued on at a measured pace, disposing of the monsters they encountered. A few times they came upon unexpected dead ends, but overall the “dungeon” was thankfully straightforward. Twice more they were attacked by the flying felines, and once by some kind of blob creature that Elliot dispatched with a blast of raw orbal energy.

The real test came in the form of a veritable horde of the armored bugs they'd encountered earlier. Rean handled himself well enough, relying heavily on some of the more esoteric techniques he'd learned before his training was cut short. A spinning slash here, a quick dodge and chop there, and he was kept clear for the most part. To one side, he saw Gaius covering Elliot, his spear's reach keeping the insects at bey.

Good teamwork; maybe this'll work out after all.

A moment later, and it was over, Elliot collapsing to one knee. “Are you okay?” Rean asked anxiously.

“He doesn't look injured,” Gaius put in, crouching next to their classmate.

Elliot shook his head. “I'll be okay in a minute. I was just so relieved the fight was over that I suddenly lost all the strength in my legs.” He looked up at them. “I'm amazed at how calm you two are. You aren't winded, or worried, or anything.”

Gaius shrugged. “I'm used to fighting monsters like this; my homeland is pretty wild.”

“And I went through some pretty intense training,” Rean added. “You need a hand?”

Elliot shook his head again. “I'll be fine; it's just a brief lapse.” He straightened with a little help from his staff. “There we—whoa!” he interrupted himself, face paling.

Another of the armored bugs had appeared while they were talking. It gathered itself to leap, but a loud bang sounded, and it was blasted sideways. Before it could recover, Rean was there, and upward slash putting an end to the threat.

“Looks like I made it just in time. Thank Aidios for that.”

Machias Regnitz stepped out of the shadows, what appeared to be an orbal shotgun clutched in his hands. However it came to be, Rean was more than glad to see him.

“You're name's . . . Machias, is that right?” Gaius said slowly.

The other nodded. “That's me,” he acknowledged, stepping closer. “I, ah, I apologize for storming off like that. I let that arrogant noble goad me into losing my composure and acting on impulse.” He looked down. “I acted foolishly; I hope you can forgive me for it.”

Rean waved a hand. “Eh, don't worry about it. Water under the bridge.”

“Everyone has moments when we say or do something we regret later,” Elliot agreed. “Basic human nature.” He smiled. “Oh, thanks for saving me back there.”

Machias offered a brief now. “I'm just glad I was passing by. I retraced my steps, and almost ran right into you.” He looked from one to another. “Is it just three of you?”

“Yeah,” Rean said. “The others are probably somewhere ahead; we stood around talking for a bit.”

“I doubt you'll find anyone if you go back further,” Gaius added. “The girl with silver hair just took off without a word, and the others went soon after.”

Machias nodded, looking just a bit uncomfortable. “In that case, would it be all right if I accompany you?” He hefted the shotgun. “I have some skill with a gun, so I can pull my weight.”

“Of course,” Rean said with a smile. “Welcome aboard. My name's Rean Schwarzer.”

“I'm Elliot Craig. Nice to meet you.”

The exchange student nodded in greeting. “Gaius Worzel.”

Machias cleared his throat. “The pleasure is mine. My name is Machias Regnitz.” he hesitated. “Um, could I ask what social class you all belong to? So I know where I stand.”

This, Rean knew, could be dicey. For all Machias's visible hostility toward the Four Great Houses, there was no telling if it extended to the lesser nobility. And Rean himself wasn't the only issue; he was dead sure the blue-haired girl was also aristocracy, though she lacked Jusis's evident stuffiness.

“Well, my family are all commoners,” Elliot said, shrugging.

“My homeland doesn't have a class system to begin with, so it isn't really an issue,” Gaius said.

Feeling all eyes on him, Rean took a deep breath. He had to handle this very carefully. “Let's just say, I don't have a drop of noble blood in my veins.” There. The truth, just not all of it.

Regardless, Machias appeared satisfied. “That's a relief. We should get going; I'm concerned about the girls, as you can probably imagine. If they ended up in danger, I'd feel much better if we were around to help.”

Privately, Rean thought Machias's concern needless. If that girl's anywhere near as good as I think she is, I'll feel more sorry for the monsters. “Strength in numbers, at least,” was all he said aloud.

With a party of four, things moved much more smoothly. True to his word, Machias was fiendishly effective with his shotgun, once annihilating three of those armored bugs simultaneously. Thanks to the added firepower, they were able to quicken their pace.

I think this really is going to work, Rean mused, bisecting yet another armored bug. He'd lost track of the number of the blasted things they'd been forced to slaughter.

“We meet again.”

Rean and his teammates stopped short. The three girls from earlier rounded a corner ahead of them, the blond freezing in place when she saw Rean. Covering his nervousness, he glanced at the weapon in her hand. An orbal bow, unusual but reasonably practical.

“Good to see you're hanging in there,” Elliot said, visibly relieved.

The bespectacled girl smiled in greeting. “I'm glad you all are unharmed as well,” she said.

The one with blue hair, apparently the leader of their impromptu party, looked at Machias. “At least you seemed to have cooled down,” she observed, drawing an annoyed growl. “At any rate, I don't think I've introduced myself.” She smiled. “Laura S. Arseid, from the town of Legram. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Well, that sure explained a lot. Nobility, all right, and not just any nobility. If that name meant what Rean suspected, it meant Laura was quite possibly the most dangerous member of their class. He couldn't help thanking Aidios that she seemed to be a friendly sort.

“Legram is a town in the extreme southeast, right?” Elliot said. “Technically part of Kreuzen province, but usually left alone.”

Laura nodded. “That's right. It's an old castle town on the shore of Lake Ebel. We're connected to the rest of the Empire by rail, but it's otherwise quite a remote region.”

Just like Ymir.

Machias did a double take, eyes going wide. “Arseid, Legram, wait, your father would be—!”

“Indeed,” Laura confirmed. “My father is Viscount Arseid, lord of Legram.” Her face and voice hardened, just slightly. “Is there a problem?”

Machias swallowed. “N-No, not at all!”

“Machias, was it?” Laura regarded him coolly, though not unkindly. “I can only speak for myself, but I don't believe I've done anything to bring shame upon myself in Aidios' eyes. And I'm sure the same goes for my father.”

Rean could almost swear Machias was visibly sweating. “Um, I, I'm sorry, I meant no offense.” He looked at the bespectacled girl. “I, ah, I don't think we've been introduced.”

She bowed. “I'm Emma Millstein. Like Laura, I come from a distant region of the Empire; the only reason I was able to attend was through a scholarship.”

Machias rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “A scholarship, huh? Now that you mention it, didn't the instructor say you had the highest score on the entrance exam?” He sighed. “To think I was outdone by a girl.”

At that, Rean felt a muscle twitch, though he kept his peace for the time being. He knew Machias meant no real harm, but chauvinism still annoyed him. Combine that with the other boy's issues with Jusis Albarea, and he could see some major headaches in the near future.

Elliot, meanwhile, was looking at Emma's weapon. “You've got an orbal staff too, huh? Looks different from mine.”

He was right. Where Elliot's staff had a green, vaguely oblong mounting for the orbment, Emma's was bluish purple and hook-shaped. “It does,” Emma agreed. “I wonder if it's cosmetic, or something more.”

The blond girl, Rean noted uneasily, hadn't said a word. She just stood there, glaring at him. I really need to clear this up somehow if we're going to be classmates. But how? This isn't an easy subject.

Laura seemed to pick up on it as well. “Is something wrong? We're all acquainted now, so introducing yourself is only proper.”

The blond looked like she would rather do virtually anything else, but she relented. “My name is Alisa . . . R, from Roer.” She sniffed. “It's a pleasure to meet almost all of you.”

Just “R”? For the moment Rean ignored her thinly-veiled snub. Is she having family problems or something? The rest of her introduction suddenly hit him. Roer? That's in Nortia Province, not all that far from Ymir.

“What's it like living in Roer?” Elliot asked. “I hear there's a new technological breakthrough there practically every week.”

Machias was looking at Alisa with new interest. “The Reinford Company's based in Roer, isn't it? The largest heavy industry corporation in all of Zemuria.”

For some reason, Alisa appeared flustered. “Y-Yeah, I guess so.”

Come on, Rean, think of something! Frantically he cast about, until he caught sight of the weapon in Alisa's hands. A compound bow, with what he was pretty sure was an orbment in the center. “So, ah, that bow must've been in the case you had when we met at the station. Never seen one like that before; is there some kind of orbal mechanism built in?”

There, just for a second, he was sure he'd broken the ice. Then, “There is, but I don't see how it's any of your business.”

Rean winced. He couldn't really blame her for still being upset, but that really wasn't helping. Come on, I know it was awkward, but it was an accident! I would never pull something like that on purpose!

Elliot cleared his throat uneasily. “Um, anybody have any idea what to do now? Since we've all run into each other like this, why not stick together?”

“I agree,” Machias said. “It would probably be for the best. It isn't safe for a group of girls to travel alone; you may require pro—”

Laura smiled very slightly. “Oh, you needn't worry about that.” With one smooth motion, she drew possibly the biggest sword Rean had ever laid eyes on. Despite it being almost as long as she was tall (leading Rean to wonder where the heck she kept the thing), Laura held the weapon in a practiced two-handed grip, showing no sign of strain despite her slender frame.

It took effort not to laugh; Machias looked like he'd seen a ghost. “I, ah, I beg your pardon?”

Laura's smile widened. “I don't mean to boast, but I'm quite confident my swordsmanship will be more than sufficient to keep us safe. In any case, as two of us remain unaccounted for, I think it would be best to continue traveling separately.”

She had a point, and her declaration about her swordsmanship was no idle boast. Rean knew the Arseid school when he saw it, and Laura's stance made very clear indeed that she was no amateur. She was very possibly better than he was with a blade.

“We still haven't seen the silver-haired girl anywhere,” Emma agreed.

Gaius nodded in understanding. “Two teams means double the chances,” he said. “Twice the coverage, and thus twice the chance of crossing paths with them.”

Laura tucked her sword away . . . somewhere. “I have no objections. Please take care,” she added. “There are doubtless still dangers in this place.”

Dangers weren't on Rean's mind as they left, though. At least not physical dangers. Just then, he was more concerned with the fact that Alisa refused to give him the time of day. Not a good start to the school year, that was for certain.

“She's really not letting that go, is she?” Elliot commented as if he'd read Rean's mind.

Machias sighed. “Everyone could see it was clearly an accident, but that doesn't appear to matter. More importantly, isn't anyone else worried about leaving a group of girls to fend for themselves in a place like this?” He stroked his chin. “Since there are four of us, maybe one should go follow them.”

On this, Rean felt on much firmer ground. “I really don't think there's anything to worry about,” he said. “Laura's stance was from the Arseid school, one of the most prestigious in the Empire, and I could tell she's no beginner.” He chuckled. “If anything, I feel sorry for the monsters.”

“Are you sure about that?” Machias asked, looking skeptical. “At the end of the day, a lady is a lady.”

Rean offered a lopsided smile. “I'm not at all sure I could take her in a fight, and I've been training with this,” he patted his tachi, “for years. The Arseid school is the basis for the knightly sword styles used throughout the Empire, and her father is arguably the strongest swordsman in all of Erebonia. People call him the Radiant Blademaster.”

“Interesting,” Gaius said, lifting his eyebrows. “I had no idea the knightly styles were still practiced in the Empire.”

“Is this a hobby of yours, Rean?” Elliot asked. “You sure know a lot about it.”

Rean shrugged. “I'm a swordsman myself,” he reminded the other, “so the lore kinda comes with the territory. Now, we'd better pick up the search. Dunno about you guys, but I'd kinda like to get out of here before sundown.”

The next fifteen minutes or so were oddly quiet. All Rean could hear was their footsteps echoing in the dim corridors. He did catch a brief glimpse of one of the blob creatures, but it slid silently away. Maybe it had seen them dispatch a few of its fellows, he mused whimsically.

Without warning, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He froze in place, holding up a hand. Frowning, he glanced to one side and then the other. We're not alone in here.

“It's not monsters,” Gaius said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You sensed it too, huh?” Rean said, his eyes fixing on a pillar almost straight ahead.

There was a sound that might have been amusement. “You're pretty sharp,” a feminine voice said as its owner stepped into view.

A petite frame, the shortest of them. Short silver hair, the bow at her throat noticeably askew. It was unmistakably their missing classmate, the one Rean had found sleeping on a park bench. She looked at them with faint amusement and studied unconcern.

“I'm glad to see you're all right,” Rean offered, then smiled a bit ruefully. “Though it looks like we were worrying over nothing.”

She shrugged, smiling ever so slightly. “Nope. I'm small and quick; those freaks can't touch me.” Her head tilted slightly, as though she was remembering something. “Forgot to mention, my name's Fie Claussell. You guys are just over halfway through. Keep it up.” She turned and walked away.

“Hey, wait up!” Machias protested. “Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?”

Fie cast an oblique glance over her shoulder. “I'll be fine. This is nothing new for me.” Without further ado, she broke into a run, bounced off a nearby wall, and onto an upper level. “See you at the end,” she said, and was gone.

For a while, Rean and the others could only stare. He'd known she could handle herself, of course, but the extent of her abilities was still a bit startling. He couldn't recall ever seeing anyone jump around like that. Was Fie even human?

“She wasn't kidding,” Gaius said. “Those are some moves she has.”

“Yeah,” Rean agreed. “Now I'm more convinced than ever she can take care of herself just fine.” There was something that was bothering him a little, though. She said we're just over halfway through. Does that mean she's already been to the exit and come back?

No matter. They still needed to find Jusis, however distasteful Machias found the prospect. Keeping one hand on his sword, Rean led them down another winding passage, slicing up the occasional monster as he went. A few slipped past both him and Gaius, but were always followed by a bark from Machias's shotgun.

Eventually, of course, his guard wavered, just enough for one of those bugs to catch him in the thigh. He beheaded the little freak, but his leg almost buckled in the process. Dammit, why now?

“Rean!” Elliot was there in an instant, his ARCUS unit glowing. Almost immediately, the pain faded from his leg. “Are you okay?”

Rean straightened, testing his balance. “I am now. Thanks, Elliot.”

Elliot smiled a bit shakily. “Don't mention it.” He jumped slightly at a distant clanging noise. “W-What was that!?”

It was a sword, Rean was sure of it. Combined with an occasional masculine grunt of exertion, and there was no doubt they'd finally tracked down Jusis. Concerned that the noble was fighting alone, Rean took off at a full run, the others close on his heels.

And skidded to a confused halt. It was Jusis Albarea, all right, but from all appearances he needed no help. His expression mixed boredom and annoyance, as he sliced up one monster after another with almost casual ease. He didn't even seem to be breathing hard.

“Incredible.” Even Machias couldn't help but be impressed.

“I don't think he needs our help,” Gaius said dryly. “Judging by that display.” He looked at Rean. “Is that another Imperial sword style?”

Rean nodded. “Court fencing, the most popular style among the nobility. It places a lot of emphasis on agility, and judging by the way Jusis moves, he's no amateur.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You don't see many high nobles take it that seriously, though.”

With an annoyed grunt, Jusis sliced his final opponent cleanly in half, then sheathed his long double-edged sword. Even after all that, he didn't even look winded. There was a hint of weariness, but it appeared to be more mental than physical. Possibly sheer annoyance at the whole “orienteering” thing.

At last, Jusis turned around with an annoyed sigh, and spotted Rean and his companions. “Do you need something?” His voice was cool.

Rean quickly shook his head. “Sorry, I was just admiring your swordsmanship; haven't seen court fencing that smooth in a long time. That reminds me,” he said, stepping a bit closer, “I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier. Rean Schwarzer.”

“I-I'm Elliot Craig,” Elliot stammered, clearly uneasy at dealing with someone from such rarefied heights of the aristocracy.

“Gaius Worzel,” Gaius added, inclining his head respectfully.

Jusis's expression didn't change. “I believe I have introduced myself, but again, I'm Jusis Albarea.” His blue eyes flickered to Machias, and he smiled thinly. “Well, this is a surprise. I didn't think you had it in you; I'm impressed.”

Machias gritted his teeth. “And just what are you talking about?” he demanded in a tight voice.

“Simple enough.” Jusis lifted one blond eyebrow. “After all that bluster about finding your own way out, I honestly didn't expect you to rely on others for help. I assume you came to your senses shortly thereafter, and came back to apologize like a good boy.”

Okay, Jusis, you're starting to push it.

Jusis then proceeded to push it even further. “Truly the virtue of the common man. A preening noble such as myself would be far too proud to do such a thing.” His tone practically oozed sarcasm.

At that, Machias looked for a moment like he was about to reach for his gun. “What the hell is your problem!? You nobles are all the same, so full of yourselves it's a wonder you don't pop!” He restrained himself, but his anger did not lessen. “And you aren't just some garden-variety noble. House Albarea is one of the highest in the Empire.”

Jusis snorted derisively. “You're one to talk. I don't need a lecture in rank from the son of the Imperial governor.”

Something clicked in Rean's head. His family had stayed out of politics for years, but that didn't make him ignorant. I thought I'd heard the name Regnitz before!

“Carl Regnitz, the first commoner ever to serve as governor of Heimdallr, the Imperial capital,” Jusis said. “And this . . . headstrong young lad clearly takes after his father.” A brief smirk. “Pretty rarefied air for a 'simple commoner,' don't you think?”

Machias looked like he'd taken a punch in the gut. “Yes, my father is the Imperial governor, but he earned that position! I wasn't born into privilege, like certain others I could name.”

Jusis shrugged fractionally, unconcerned. “I simply regard your father as a key member of the reformist faction, one close to the chancellor at that. And as you are no doubt well aware, the reformists are in conflict with the Noble Faction, led by the Four Great Houses. With that in mind, your hostility toward the nobility seems a little,” he smirked, “cheap, does it not?”

Machias actually hissed through clenched teeth. “You overbred son of a–!” He took a menacing step forward.

“That's enough!” Rean stepped between them, hand on his tachi in case he should need to disarm one or the other. “Machias, I know he's provoking you, but lashing out won't do any good. And Jusis,” he glared at the noble, “don't you think that was just a little uncalled for?”

“It was not I who started this,” Jusis said, unfazed.

The silence went on so long Rean started to fear Machias was going to literally explode. To his credit, however, the gunman was able to pull himself together for the most part. He was still visibly angry, but he had it under control for the time being.

“Sorry,” he said. “I . . . need to be alone for a bit. It would be best if you went on with him.”

Rean watched him go, then looked at Jusis. “You did go a bit too far,” he said quietly. “I'm not going to try and interfere with whatever is going on between you and Machias, but bringing his father into it was a low blow. You're better than that.”

To his immense surprise, Jusis's shoulders slumped, just a little. “Perhaps I did,” he conceded, sounding suddenly weary. “It would seem I still have much to learn.” At Elliot's startled gasp, Jusis looked at him questioningly. “You seem surprised.”

Elliot gulped. “Well, you're the son of Duke Albarea, right? I never expected the son of a noble that high to admit he was—gah, that came out wrong! I'm sorry!”

Jusis shook his head. “There's no need for such formality. We may come from different social spheres, but here at Thors Academy, and especially in this Class VII, we're supposed to have equal standing. At least, that's the idea.”

“Y-Yeah, I mean, I'm with you there!” Elliot yelped.

Gaius bent down, speaking so only Rean could hear. “Is social class that important in the Empire?”

“Yeah,” Rean whispered back. “Erebonia has a long history, and the class system has been an integral part for most of it.” He raised his voice a little. “So, Jusis, what are you going to do now? Machias said we should go with you, but I'd rather not force the issue.”

Jusis folded his arms. “I was going to press on alone, but I would prefer not to emulate the actions of his sort, so I'll accompany you.”

“Huh!?” Elliot said, then swiftly backpedaled when Jusis shot him a glare. “Uh, I mean, it's great to have you on the team!”
Rean sighed, again thinking it was going to be a long year. “We'll leave it at that. Let's go.”

With Machias gone, they'd lost most of their ranged capability, but Jusis's skill with arts made up for it to a degree. Within ten minutes, though, Rean was thoroughly sick of monsters and underground tunnels, and not overly happy with his new homeroom teacher.

It was thus with a mixture of annoyance and relief that they emerged into a much wider room. There were a couple of staircases leading to an upper level, and best of all sunlight streaming through the open door. Judging by the angle, Rean estimated it was late afternoon.

“Finally,” Jusis muttered. “A complete waste of time, useless busywork at best.” He rolled his eyes. “Considering the reputation of the school's founder, I was expecting more of a challenge, but nothing here has been a serious threat.”

Elliot shot him a look of undisguised astonishment. “You've gotta be kidding! I'm just about dead on my feet!” He switched gears before the noble could come up with a scathing retort. “And what was all that about Class VII, anyway? Instructor Valestein made it sound like something special.”

A very good question. The nine members of Class VII ran the gamut of social and cultural backgrounds, with nobility, commoners, even an exchange student. It was almost like there was something going on behind the scenes. Rean shook his head; Erebonian politics being what they were, a secret agenda was quite plausible.

It was the farthest thing from his mind an instant later. A low rumbling seemed to fill the chamber, drawing Rean's eye to one of the upper levels. A gargoyle he'd noticed more or less in passing had started to glow faintly, and worse yet was moving.

“What the heck is that!?” Elliot yelped, clutching his orbal staff like a lifeline.

Jusis drew his sword. “A gargoyle comes to life, is this some kind of sorcery?”

“Are monsters like this common in the Empire?” Gaius wondered, still more or less calm even as he readied his spear.

“Only in old wives' tales!” Jusis snapped, visibly rattled for the first time.

Rean had his own blade in hand. “It doesn't matter!” he said. “This thing Is blocking our way to the surface, so one way or another, we have to take it out!”

Elliot was practically shaking in his boots, though he didn't back down. Jusis, by contrast, had regained his composure, and seemed to relish the situation. “Finally, an opponent worthy of my skill!”

It was fortunate they'd had so many encounters with lesser foes along the way, Though more easily dispatched than a vaguely draconic, horned gargoyle, they had given Rean and his companions the chance to set up some basic strategies. Rean and Jusis, of course, closed the range, with Gaius a bit farther back and to one side, while Elliot kept at a distance.

Dodging a burst of fire from the gargoyle's mouth (and absently musing on how incredibly cliché it was), Rean felt a sudden burst of vitality, strengthening his limbs. He looked back at Elliot, who responded with a somewhat shaky grin and thumbs-up.

“Your aid is appreciated,” Jusis said, the first time Rean had heard him sincerely compliment anyone.

Gaius swept past, driving his spear into the gargoyle's stone hide. It didn't penetrate very far, but the monster clearly felt it, roaring in what sounded like a mixture of pain and rage. As Gaius nimbly evaded a swipe of stone claws, Rean half crouched and slashed in a horizontal arc. The impact jarred his teeth, and almost made him lose his grip, but he held on, forcing the blade in deeper.

He almost pushed his luck too far. Again the gargoyle lashed out, grazing Rean's leg and knocking him off-balance. Jusis was already there, unleashing a series of rapid thrusts that forced it back ever so slightly, giving Rean room to regain his footing. Nodding his thanks, Rean aimed a second slash at one limb; if they could hinder its movement, he knew, they would have a far better chance of winning.

“Just how tough is this thing!?” Elliot yelped, sending another burst of orbal energy into their foe. “It won't quit!”

“I wish I knew!” Rean called back, tripping and doing a quick handspring to right himself. “But you can bet I'm going to ask the instructor about it!”

Jusis grunted, driving his sword in almost to the hilt. “In this, you and I are in complete agreement.”

The gargoyle roared again, lunging for Elliot. Before it could reach him, however, three things happened more or less simultaneously: Gaius tackled the staff-wielder out of the way, Rean slashed the gargoyle's right eye, eliciting another roar of pain, and Jusis released an art that hammered their foe with a blast of compressed air. With a last growl of impotent rage, it collapsed to the floor.

“That should be the end of that,” Jusis said with a satisfied smirk, wiping ichor off his sword with a cloth.

Rean kept his eyes on the gargoyle. “No, not yet,” he warned, keeping his sword in guard position. “It's down, but not out!” Even as he spoke, the creature pushed itself to its feet, seemingly uninjured.

“One hell of a second wind,” Gaius quipped, though his eyes were wary.

“I admire tenacity,” Jusis said, gritting his teeth in frustration, “but this thing needs to just die.”

Rean's mind was racing. The first round had exhausted them, and he highly doubted they had enough for a second. That left them with precious few options; indeed, he could only think of one. He really didn't want to use it, but it appeared there was no alternative if they were to survive.

“Step aside!”

Instinctively, Rean obeyed, just in time for at least four arrows to zip past, striking the gargoyle in the face and chest. A blast of orbal energy announced Emma's arrival, followed by Laura making a grand entrance, a flying leap that brought her heavy sword down on the monster's armored neck.

“Your timing couldn't be better,” Gaius said with a smile.

“I'm just glad you're all okay!” Alisa said, and for once she was including Rean. Then again, she didn't seem like the type to hold a grudge enough to want to see him eaten.
Emma was breathing hard, but appeared fine otherwise. “I'm sorry we took so long!” she gasped.

Rean shook his head. “What matters is you're here.”

“Interesting,” Laura remarked, eying the gargoyle curiously. “I never expected to find the Dark Ages alive and well down here. I doubt it will go down easily.”

“We noticed,” Rean said tightly. “But with this many of us, if we can just find an opening we should be able to bring it down!”

There was an exasperated sigh from behind them. “Guess I'll help out,” a low female voice said.

Rean risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Machias and Fie stood in the doorway, the former looking a bit chagrined, the latter just bored.

“Started the party without me, huh?” Machias said. He turned sideways, raising his shotgun one-handed. “Limiter release, Break Shot!”

Even as the slug impacted on the gargoyle's chest, Fie was in motion, a blur streaking between Rean and Alisa. She kicked off the floor, a leap that turned into a forward flip. Landing neatly behind it, she drove the two bladed weapons she bore (gun swords, from the look of them) into its flank.

“All right!” Rean said. “This is our chance! Go!”

As he moved in beside his new classmates, something strange happened. The nine of them were enveloped in a blue glow, and all of a sudden he just knew where each of them was, and when they struck. They attacked with near-perfect coordination, each blow impacting at precisely the right time and place.

“This one's mine!” Laura called. With a yell, she lunged forward and upward, her enormous blade following her arc and neatly severing the gargoyle's head.

Just like that, it was over.

“And stay down!” Machias growled, glaring at the immobile creature as he tucked his shotgun away.

There was a general round of tired chuckles at his vehemence; even Jusis appeared ever so faintly amused. “I think it will, at least for a while,” Gaius said, leaning a bit on his spear for support.

Rean, for his part, suddenly felt like he was going to pass out. Certainly his sword training over the last few years had been arduous, but he'd never faced anything quite like what they'd just fought. As soon as he got to the dorm, it was going to be a shower, food, and sleep, in that order.

“Say, anybody know what happened right at the end?” Elliot asked of the room at large. “Kinda weird, wasn't it?”

Alisa frowned thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I did feel . . . something wash over me for an instant there. Couldn't tell you what it was, though.”

“A strange blue light,” Machias put in, also frowning. “I've never seen anything like it.”

Laura gave a slow nod. “I did notice something while we fought. It may simply have been the blur of combat, but I felt as though I could somehow see everyone's movements, in precise detail.”

“I don't think it was just your imagination,” Fie said with a minute shake of the head. “All of us feeling the same thing? No way that's a coincidence.”

It was like being hit by a truck. All of a sudden, a lot of Sara Valestein's evasiveness came into focus. It wasn't just the red uniform that set Class VII apart. They were also equipped differently, and not simply in terms of personal weaponry. A test of some kind, Rean suspected.

“I think I know what it was we experienced there,” he said aloud. “It was—”

“The biggest selling point of the almighty ARCUS?” a female voice interrupted. “Give this man a prize!”

Rean almost jumped out his skin. Cursing himself for not sensing the new arrival, he looked up to the top of the stairs. Sure enough, Sara Valestein stood leaning against the railing, an annoyingly cheeky smile on her face. Torn between incredulity and a kind of annoyed amusement, he could only think, How long has she been there, anyway!?

“Well, well,” Sara said with a wink. “Looks like friendship and teamwork save the day once again!”

At a loss for words, Rean could only stare as the instructor sauntered down to meet them. Part of him wanted to draw steel again in indignation at having been unceremoniously dropped into a life-or-death situation at school, while the more rational part insisted—correctly—that it was a bad idea, and the faculty doubtless had taken precautions in case the worst happened to them.

“I guess that's it for our little . . . orienteering exercise,” Sara said cheerfully. She looked from one student to another, and her expression slackened just a little. “Why the long faces? I figured you guys would be happy!”

Predictably, Machias exploded. “What are we supposed to be happy about!?” he snapped. “We just barely escaped with our lives!”

Alisa was more composed, but no less puzzled. “I have so many questions, I don't have a clue where to start.”

“Allow me,” Jusis said. “Instructor, what exactly is the purpose behind this 'Class VII'? The way you spoke of it, I doubt it's simply intended as an addition to the Thors student body.”

Emma nodded agreement. “It's obviously intended to represent a broad cross-section of people,” she gestured to Jusis and Machias, noble and commoner, then to Gaius the exchange student, “but I somehow doubt that's all there is to it.”

“Indeed,” Laura said. “Why were the nine of us in particular chosen?”

Sara pursed her lips, actually looking thoughtful. “That's a valid question, certainly. Hmm.” She shrugged. “There's no single, monolithic reason you all made the cut. But probably the biggest factor is those ARCUS orbments you all have.”

Frowning, Rean took his out. It was a new design, but it didn't look that out of the ordinary. “What about them?”

“Well, like I explained before, they've been developed jointly by the Epstein Foundation and the Reinford Company,” Sara said. “Like any battle orbment, they allow you to use arts, and they have communication functionality built in.” She paused. “The big one, though, is what are called combat links. That's what you all experienced a few minutes ago.”

Elliot nodded slowly, a look of dawning understanding on his face. “'Combat links' is a pretty apt term. It did feel like we were all connected.”

“Exactly!” Sara confirmed. “You don't have to be a genius to figure out how big an advantage that would be on the battlefield. An elite unit that can sense each other's movements, able to coordinate perfectly no matter the conditions. A priceless advantage that could revolutionize warfare as we know it.” She smiled a bit lopsidedly. “Not without its limitations, though. You have to be born with a certain aptitude for it, and while anyone with the ability can link with anyone else who has it, some combinations work better than others.” A shrug. “And out of this year's latest batch of bright-eyed students, you nine had the highest by far. And since aptitude trumps background in Class VII, here you are.”

From his expression, Machias wasn't convinced. “But what gives us this aptitude, anyway? How are we different from our peers?”

“Got me. I'm just a combat instructor; that one's above my pay grade.” Sara folded her arms. “Anyway, as promised, if any of you have any objections to being in this class, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The look on her face made clear she was serious. “This new program isn't cheap to run, so we're not going to force anyone into it. You also need to know Class VII's coursework will be a lot tougher than in the regular classes. Fair warning. So, it comes down to this: Are you going to stick with Class VII, or not?”

For a long moment, no one spoke. The nine of them just looked at each other in silence, none quite sure what to do, or willing to make the first move. Laura, Rean noted, seemed to be looking at him in particular, though it might have been his imagination.

“For what it's worth, if you opt out, you'll be placed in the classes you'd normally be in,” Sara went on. “Nobles in Class I and II, commoners in III through V. It's still the first day, so there won't be any catching up to do.”

Rean closed his eyes, memories flashing through his mind. Blood, icy cold, his sister in danger. In the end, there was only one choice he could make. “I'll do it,” he said firmly, sheathing his blade and taking a step forward. “Whatever Class VII has to throw at me, I'm game.”

Alisa looked at him in open astonishment. “W-Wait, what!?”

“Just like that!?” Elliot yelped.

Sara looked at him coolly. You're up first, huh? Any particular reason? You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

He shrugged. “Not specifically. I just feel like I might've gone a bit far, asking my parents to send me here. So I figure I owe it to them to take any opportunities that come my way.”

“A noble sentiment,” Sara said with an approving nod.

Silence again fell, as the other students contemplated Rean's choice. Then, “Count me in as well,” Laura said, stepping forward. “The greater the challenge, the more I can push myself to excel.” Again an oblique glance at Rean. “One can't hone a blade without grit, after all.”

“Let's make it three,” Gaius said, stepping up next to her. “After coming so far to attend this school, it'd be pretty silly to back out before I even started.”

Sara positively beamed. “Well, we've got the strongest freshman onboard, and the foreign exchange student, too! Any other takers?”

As Rean was starting to expect, no one answered at first. “Allow me to take part as well,” Emma said, taking her place. “I was only able to attend at all because of the school's generosity, so I fell I have a duty to help out in any way I can.”

Beside Rean, Elliot gulped audibly, but stepped up nonetheless. “S-Sign me up, too!” he managed. “It sounds crazy, but I kinda feel like fate brought us here for a reason, and you guys all seem easy to get along with.”

Excluding Alisa's stubbornness, Fie's apathy, Machias's temper, and Jusis's stuffiness, anyway.

“And there's a yes from our orbal staff users,” Sara said. “I should remind you, though, since those are prototypes, you'll be expected to provide regular reports along with your other work.”

Elliot blanched a little. “Maybe I spoke too soon. . . .”

Regardless, Rean was glad to see him take the plunge. Elliot was friendly and easygoing, and obviously smart if he made it into Thors at all. They would undoubtedly get along quite well.

“Let me join, too,” Alisa said, coming forward.

Sara lifted her eyebrows. “There's a surprise. I was thinking your rebellious nature would lead you to opt out on general principles.”

Alisa shook her head minutely. “It bothers me that you have use using these prototype ARCUS units, yeah. But if I let every little nitpick hold me back, I'll never get anywhere.”

“Words to live by,” Sara said with a chuckle. “So we're at an even six. How about you, Fie?”

The petite silver-haired girl shrugged carelessly. “Don't really care. You decide.”

Sara's gaze sharpened. “Not this time. You're making this call yourself. It's time for you to take control of your own life. That was the deal, remember?”

Fie sighed in exasperation, but stepped forward next to Laura. “Fine, I'm in.”

What's up with her, anyway?

“At least you committed,” Sara said. “We have a magnificent seven, now. Which leaves just the two of you.”

Like the biggest potential wrench in the works. Rean's current issues with Alisa were at least a freak accident. The animosity between Jusis Albarea and Machias Regnitz was palpable, and unlikely to be healed with just an apology. Rean just hoped it didn't come to blows.

“I can see you've got some issues,” Sara said, understating the matter in Rean's opinion, “but you could at least try to work together. Why, if you just look past those differences and embrace the joys of youth, I'm sure you'll be the best of friends!”

That's just a little bit naive.

“Like hell!” Machias all but shouted, practically gnashing his teeth. “The exploitation of the common people is a blight on every facet of Erebonian life! Unless something is done about it, this country has no future!”

Sara appeared nonplussed. “I don't think you're going to get very far lecturing me about it,” she pointed out.

Jusis sniffed. “It makes the decision simple, at least,” he said, stepping forward. “I, Jusis Albarea, claim my place as a member of Class VII.”

“What!?” Machias was almost visibly rocked back on his heels. “You're the son of a duke! Just being in the same class as commoners should make you sick!”

Painting with too broad a brush there, Machias.

Jusis spared the irate commoner an icy glance. “I'll thank you not to tell me how I'm supposed to feel,” he said. “As far as House Albarea is concerned, there is little difference between other nobles and commoners.” His lip twitched. “And at least this way I shouldn't be surrounded by halfwitted sycophants.” He ignored Machias's growl. “Having said that, I have no desire to be drawn into your petty arguments on a daily basis, either.” He smiled thinly. “Given that, I think you would at least agree it would be prudent for us to go our separate ways.”

This time Machias really did gnash his teeth. “I don't need some bastard who coasts through life on his father's coattails telling me what to do!” He stepped up. “Come hell or high water, I'm in!” He glared at Jusis. “You may have had your successes spoon-fed you, but that ends here and now!”

Shaking his head, Rean glanced at Alisa. “It's gonna be like this all year, isn't it?” he asked in a low voice.

“Sure seems like it,” she agreed. “I doubt they'll ever see eye-to-eye.” Seeming to catch herself, she abruptly sniffed and turned away.

Elliot laughed softly. “Pots shouldn't be too hard on kettles, y'know.”

“Give me a break,” Rean groaned.

Sara clapped her hands. “What do you know, nine out of nine! With that, I'd like to congratulate you on being the first ever Class VII!” She grinned. “Hope you can keep up those high spirits all year, 'cause with the workload we have coming, you're gonna need them!”

Tough workloads Rean was confident he could deal with. He was no stranger to hard work, and he'd meant what he said about taking whatever Class VII threw at him. Essays, lectures, combat practice, or interpersonal conflicts, he would take whatever came his way and come out swinging.

Of one thing he was certain: The coming year was unlikely to be boring.

Chapter Text

Life at Thors, Laura soon discovered, went above and beyond her expectations. As Instructor Sara had warned, the coursework was rigorous, but rigorous was nothing new to the daughter of Viscount Victor S. Arseid, indeed she reveled in it. Few things made her feel more alive than plunging headfirst into a new challenge.

For all that it was a military academy, though, Thors was not as strict as one might think. Indeed, aside from the fact that most of the students and faculty were armed, it could easily be mistaken at first glance for a more conventional institution of higher learning. Nevertheless, there was a definite core of steel, as befitted an academy founded by the great Dreichels the Lionheart.

Laura already loved it.

Outside the campus proper, the town of Trista had an air of quiet and occasionally came across as downright quaint, despite its proximity to the Imperial capital. On her handful of wanderings between the academy and Class VII's dormitory before curfew, she had learned Thors was considered the heart and soul of the town.

Her classmates, she found, were something of a mixed bag, though she had no real quarrel with any of them. Unlike certain others, she saw nothing wrong with a class that mixed nobles and commoners, and had made a point of telling the commoners among them to speak to her as they would anyone. Thus far, it had worked.

Elliot was impossible to dislike. His cheerful, open demeanor might have seemed out of place at a military academy, but Laura honestly found it refreshing. Seemingly more at home with a piano or violin than the orbal staff he wielded, he still put in as much effort as anyone.

Emma was more of an enigma. Quiet and bookish, she took their studies, academic and practical alike, very seriously. Still, she was always friendly when engaged in conversation, if a bit shy. Even Jusis Albarea was at least polite to her, and he wasn't exactly what one would call sociable.

Alisa, despite the embarrassing incident on their first day, was for the most part easygoing. Laura didn't know why the blonde archer was so reluctant to disclose her background, but she respected the other girl's privacy. It didn't seem all that important anyway.

More mysterious than Emma was Fie Claussell. She clearly had combat experience of some kind, but hadn't said a word about it. Then again, she'd barely spoken a word at all beyond responding to the instructors. Not actively unfriendly, as far as Laura could tell, just someone who was a loner by inclination.

Gaius had shown himself trustworthy and honorable, very down-to-earth as could be expected of a native of the Nord Highlands. Level-headed almost to a fault, he was also pious to an extent Laura had rarely seen outside the clergy. Also seemed to have something of an artistic bent.

Jusis in some ways was even more of a loner than Fie. As a son of one of the Four Great Houses, he had the air of a not-entirely-willing outsider. He was normally courteous (save for his all too frequent clashes with Machias Regnitz), but occasionally came across as stuffy, and definitely distant.

Despite his hatred of the aristocracy and mild chauvinism, Laura couldn't say she had anything against Machias. He applied himself to his studies, minded his manners save when provoked by Jusis (something the cold-blooded nobleman seemed to do on purpose half the time), and generally kept things in order.

And then there was Rean Schwarzer. Laura found him more than a little confusing. She remembered that name from a trip she and her father had taken to the far north several years before, and her new classmate even looked like the boy she'd met briefly. Yet there were some definite discrepancies. The boy she'd encountered had received some basic sword training, but in his family's style, which was derived from court fencing, and was the son of the local lord. Rean Schwarzer of Class VII, by contrast, denied any noble blood, and his swordsmanship was clearly in the exotic Eight Leaves One Blade style.

It was maddening, but she dared not dwell on it too much. Such musings could only distract her, and distractions were a luxury she couldn't really afford at Thors. One way or another, she supposed, the matter would sort itself out, and she had to admit Rean was at least pleasant company.

“Good morning, Laura!”

She turned her head without breaking stride, smiling at the voice. “Good morning, Emma,” she said as the violet-haired girl caught up with her. “I trust you slept well?”

Emma shook her head ruefully. “Not as well as I would've liked. Stayed up late studying again.”

Definitely a workaholic, but Laura was in no position to throw stones. “All well and good, but your grades will suffer just as much if you don't get enough sleep,” she pointed out.

“I know,” Emma said. “It's just so hard to keep up sometimes.”

Said the top scorer on the entrance exam. “I don't think you have much to worry about,” Laura said as they reached the gate. “You've handled yourself very well thus far.”

“If you say so.”

Man, Instructor Sara wasn't kidding about our workload. Rean stretched, stifling a yawn, then buckled his sword on his belt. And we're only two weeks in.

Not that he was really complaining. Class VII's coursework was rigorous, but nothing he couldn't handle. If anything, it was invigorating, pushing his limits to a degree that he hadn't experienced since his abortive sword training. He felt alive, more than he had in a long time.

Now if only Alisa would speak more than two words to him.

Granted, he didn't blame her for her initial reaction, but seriously, it was obviously an accident, and nothing more had gone wrong since. Nevertheless, Alisa was always stiff around him, especially in any class that involved physical exertion. As if one accident (when he was trying to help her no less) automatically made him some kind of pervert.

Rean Schwarzer would never claim to be immune to feminine charms. Indeed, he found all his female classmates quite attractive, though Fie was borderline due to her apparent age. On the other hand, he had been brought up to be a gentleman, and took it seriously.

Well. One thing at a time. Rean paused at his dresser, smiling a bit wistfully at a photo on top. Mom, Dad, Elise, I'm doing fine.

“Good morning Rean,” was the first thing he heard on opening the door.

Rean smiled. “Morning, Elliot,” he greeted.

The flame-haired boy smiled. “Heading to school? How about we go together?”

“Works for me,” Rean said. “We're a bit behind schedule, though, so we should probably pick up the pace."

A rarity in and of itself. Rean was accustomed to being an early riser, especially after his intensive sword training. Sleeping in just wasn't in his nature, ordinarily; the few times he'd tried, he woke up with the sun anyway. Since it usually drove him stir-crazy, he'd given up years before.

“Looks like everyone else has already left,” Elliot remarked as they made for the stairs. Their section of Class VII's dormitory was on the second floor, with the girls one level up. The ground floor was devoted to the kitchen and common area.

Rean took a moment to admire the old-fashioned brickwork and wood paneling before replying. “Looks like it. I don't sense anyone on this floor, at least. Especially Gaius; knowing him, he's long gone.” Elliot looked slightly unnerved, as he usually did when Rean's borderline-extrasensory abilities came up, but he made no comment.

Stepping into the morning sunlight, Rean took a deep breath of the spring air. Trista had a notably warmer climate than his hometown, where snow often lasted into April, but otherwise the town fit him like a glove. Same for the dorm, simple yet with a sense of the grand, far more to his taste than what little he'd seen of the upper-class dormitory. He could have wished for it to be a little closer to the campus, but he supposed one couldn't have everything.

“Man, time sure flies,” Elliot commented. “And here I was thinking combat practice would be the hard part. Never even occurred to me that the academics would be just as bad!”

Rean shrugged. “'Strong in body and mind' is a big part of Imperial culture,” he pointed out. “And rightly so; it's what made Erebonia what it is today.” He smiled wryly. “I get what you mean, though. When I first arrived, I thought I'd be able to coast through the year. Man, was I ever wrong.”

“That so?” Elliot sighed. “Makes me jealous of Machias and Emma. They don't seem to have any problems.” His lip twitched. “Emma was the top scorer on the entrance exam, and I'll just bet Machias came in second.”

“With Jusis and Alisa not far behind them,” Rean agreed. Which was about the only thing he knew about Jusis besides the other boy's skill with a sword. His arguments with Machias aside, Jusis preferred to keep to himself. “Laura and Gaius, too.”

Elliot's expression was somewhere between dismay and resignation. “Guess I'd better suck it up and keep at it, then. Hope they don't mind.”

Okay, huh? “What do you mean?”

Elliot seemed to shake himself. “Oh, sorry, you just got me thinking about Jusis and Laura. I've been talking to them the same way I would anyone, but they are both nobles, right? Especially Jusis; his family rules all of Kreuzen Province, so I kinda feel I should be more, I dunno, formal.”

It was uncomfortably close to something Rean had been wrestling with since that first day, but he allowed no sign of it to show on his face. “They both said it's okay, so you shouldn't worry about it. Especially Laura; when you get past that formal speech pattern, she's as down-to-earth as they come.” Again the wry smile. “Though you probably shouldn't pick fights with Jusis like a certain someone.”

Elliot laughed. “Hey, I'm not that crazy.” He sobered. “Still, I'd hoped they would learn to get along, but if anything they've gotten even worse. Put those two in the same room, and it's like a bomb about to go off.”

“And it's not just Machias's fault,” Rean said, shaking his head. “Jusis seems to take a perverse glee in setting him off. I'm not sure if it's possible to get them to see eye to eye on anything by now.”

“Too true,” Elliot said. His eyes flickered to a nondescript three-story building just down an incline to the east. “That's where we'd be if we weren't in Class VII. Dorm number two, for the common folk like us.”

Rean squirmed inwardly at “common folk,” but still kept his peace. “Yeah. Still, it's strange that our class gets a separate dorm. Newly renovated just for us, no less. Is Class VII really that important?”

Before Elliot could reply, another voice interrupted. “You're in our way. Step aside.” Young, male, and a definite sneer to the voice.

Sure enough, three boys in white, all carrying themselves like they owned the place. “Class VII, I see,” the apparent leader said, a blond boy Rean almost recognized. He eyed Rean and Elliot's uniforms with clear disdain. “Nothing but a ragtag bunch of nobodies.” He jerked his head at the school gate. “We're leaving.”

One of his companions, a youth with light blue hair, smirked. “You may be a 'special' class, but that doesn't change who you are. Never forget your place.”

Yeah, never mind we've got the Radiant Blademaster's only child and a son of Duke Albarea, Rean didn't bother saying aloud. They were just the kind of nobles who really got under his skin, made Jusis look downright humble by comparison. Dilettantes, one and all.

“And that's why I don't like the upper-class students who aren't in our class,” Elliot said. “They think they're so much better than everyone else.”

Rean shook his head in disgust. “All too common among the nobility, unfortunately. Thankfully, Jusis and Laura aren't like that, even if Jusis can get a bit stuffy sometimes.” An attitude he had always taken great pains to avoid. A noble should live like his people, not above them.

Elliot looked past him with a mixture of envy and irritation. “There's the infamous dormitory number one, home to all the noble students. I hear it's really fancy, butlers and maids, the works.”

Too fancy for Rean's liking, from the sound of it. Both his upbringing and sword training had left him with much simpler tastes. Not to mention the very idea of constantly rubbing elbows with people like the nobles who'd just gone past made him want to hit something.

A bell rang, interrupting his musings. Trading startled looks with Elliot, Rean picked up his pace. Another day at Thors had begun.

“As you are no doubt all aware, the Erebonian Empire was driven to the brink of collapse roughly 250 years ago.”

Rean hadn't been at Thors long enough to really get a feel for the faculty. By his preliminary estimate, though, Instructor Thomas Lysander, the school's history teacher, was easily the weirdest. Dressed respectably albeit a bit behind the times, his thick hair (the same color as Emma's) neatly tied back, thick glasses on his face, he wore a near-constant “I've got a secret” smile.

“This was brought about by a conflict we know today as the 'War of the Lions,'” the instructor went on. “A civil war following the death of the emperor, fought by the most powerful of his potential successors.” He laughed softly. “But that's not the main point; if it was that simple, a child could pass this course. Rather, I would like to discuss the effect this had on the Empire as much of the aristocracy was inevitably drawn in.” His expression turned solemn, a rare event from what Rean had heard. “Many hired mercenaries and even knights turned to looting and rampaged through the land, leaving devastation and misery in their wake.”

Rean sat forward, more interested than he had expected. Instructor Thomas may have been an oddball, but he sure knew how to make history feel alive.

“But then, lo and behold, into this seemingly endless nightmare stepped one man, a man willing to take a stand against the madness of the war of succession. A wandering young prince with a knack for inspiring loyalty, who began to rally people from across the land. He was, of course, Dreichels Reise Arnor, who would go down in history as Dreichels the Lionheart, 73rd Emperor of Erebonia and father of the Renaissance, and the founder of this very academy.”

And quite a name to live up to. Rean wasn't sure anyone in his class could; he was pretty sure he couldn't. Laura, perhaps, or maybe Gaius.

“At first, Dreichels' force was quite small,” Thomas said, “but as he traveled across this vast empire, that soon changed. Now, the place where he began to gather strength was. . . .” He trailed off, looking about the room. “Rean Schwarzer. Can you tell the class where it might be?”

A pop quiz was hardly unexpected, and the subject matter basic. Rean stood and spoke in a clear voice, “The Nord Highlands, northeast of Erebonia.”

Thomas positively beamed. “Exactly! Then-Prince Dreichels' wanderings took him to the land of Nord, where he lived with the vagabonds for years. When he learned of the civil war ravaging his homeland, the people of Nord became his first allies.”

Rean sat down again, relieved, and suddenly noticed the corner of Alisa's notebook was pointed his way. “Nord Highlands” was scrawled at the bottom.
Huh. Trying to help me out; maybe there's hope after all.

By the end of the day, Rean was about ready to pass out. Even the blasted art teacher was quite a taskmaster, though she was nice about it, and the vice-principal's economics class was no better, not helped by the man's pomposity. No wonder Thors graduates were considered the cream of the crop in Erebonian society.

“Congratulations, everyone, you've made it through another grueling day of classes!” Sara Valestein's expression was entirely too cheerful, causing Rean to think longingly of his sword. “In case you've been living under a rock, your first 'free day' is tomorrow. It's not technically a day off, but there are no formal classes, so you're pretty much on your own. Heimdallr is just a short train ride away, so you could go shopping. Or you could sleep, like I do!"

Tempting though it was, Rean couldn't bring himself to consider it. His old master, he suspected, would take a very dim view indeed, though even Yun Ka-Fai admitted a swordsman needed to relax from time to time. Just not too much.

Emma raised a hand. “Will the academy facilities still be open?”

“Of course!” Sara said with a grin. “Thors closes for no one, so take advantage of any facilities you like! Most of the clubs meet on free days, so those of you who have joined one should check then.”

Which didn't really matter to Rean, since he hadn't joined a club as of yet. For that matter, he wasn't sure if any would interest him. The Fencing Club seemed logical for someone like him, but he felt no particular tug. Maybe it was because of their focus on rapier and broadsword styles, so unlike his exotic Eight Leaves.

That reminds me, I need to at least try to find a sparring partner. Be pretty hard to keep in shape otherwise. The other swordsmen in Class VII were the obvious choices, given how skilled they were, but Rean wasn't sure how well it would work out. Jusis was too much the loner, and while Laura was always cordial, even friendly, she kept giving him very puzzling looks, as if she was studying him somehow. It was just a bit unnerving.

“I'll make sure to do so,” Laura murmured. “It sounds interesting.”

Sara nodded, and smiled in a way Rean found just a bit ominous. “Before we finish, I have to give you a bit of a heads-up on next week's schedule. Wednesday will be your first practical exam.”

Yep, definitely ominous. “A practical exam?” Rean repeated cautiously. He had a good idea what Sara was talking about, but he wanted to be sure he'd heard correctly.

To his left, Alisa was giving the instructor a look of deep unease. “What, exactly, does that entail?”

Sara's smile widened. “Part of your combat training, of course. Naturally you'll be graded on your performance, so make sure you're rested and ready for battle!” She winked. “Some extra training on the side probably wouldn't hurt.”

That, at least, Rean didn't worry about. “Rested and ready for battle” described pretty much his entire lifestyle, and he was already planning to train more on his own. He'd heard the monster population on the road just out of town was a growing nuisance, so that was a good place to start.

Glancing around at his classmates, he saw Jusis and, unsurprisingly, Laura looked interested. Elliot was visibly nervous, also unsurprisingly, and Fie just looked bored, as usual. Gaius and Alisa seemed more politely attentive than anything else, and while he couldn't see Emma's face, she appeared a bit more tense than usual.

“One more thing,” Sara said into his thoughts. “After the exam, I'll have another important announcement to make. About a part of Class VII's curriculum that I haven't mentioned at all yet.”

And here comes the other shoe. She's having way too much fun with this.

“So whatever you do with your free day, make sure it counts,” Sara added with a grin.

Once the usual ceremonies were dealt with, Rean wearily collected his books. Truth be told, a practical combat exam sounded almost like a relief after the last couple of weeks. He was nowhere near the level he wanted to be with a blade, but at least something like that was more straightforward.

“A practical exam already,” Elliot moaned. “I'm still getting used to this staff.”

Rean offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Come on, you handled yourself pretty well on our first day.”

“If you say so.” Elliot sighed. “Anyway, I was planning to attend club practice.” He smiled a bit sheepishly. “I decided to try out for the band, though I'm not sure they'll have much use for a violinist.”

Rean lifted his eyebrows at that. “Oh? I Didn't know you played the violin; is it a hobby?”

“Something like that,” Elliot said, looking a bit embarrassed. “What about you, Gaius?”

The exchange student inclined his head. “I'm actually thinking of joining the art club.”

Well. Talk about out of the blue. Gaius had never come across as the artistic type, but then again Rean still didn't know him all that well. For that matter, he didn't yet know any of his classmates very well, save for Elliot, and it was at least partly his own fault. He'd been perhaps a bit too focused on his studies.

“I would've thought the Riding Club would fit you better, being from Nord and all,” he ventured.

Gaius, luckily, didn't take offense. “You would,” the taller boy said with a laugh. “But I've always had an interest in painting; taught myself some of the basics. Here I should be able to learn proper technique.”

That actually sounded pretty interesting. Rean recalled a number of landscape paintings back home, one of the few real concessions to his family's status. Brightened up the estate, at least.

“Oh, good, you're still here.”

Rean turned at the voice, trying valiantly to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Is something wrong, Instructor?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “No, nothing for you to worry about; I'm not gonna drop the floor out from under you right now. There's just something I need from the Student Council room.”

“From the Student Council room?” Gaius repeated curiously. “What might that be?”

Again the ominous grin. “That's for me to know, and you to find out! I'll tell you this: you'll need it for your studies. So, any volunteers?”

Rean shrugged. “Nothing better to do right now.” He ignored the surprised looks Elliot and Gaius sent his way. “Just go to the Student Council room and say you sent me?”

“You got it,” Sara said. “You'll find it on the second floor of the Student Union building, right at the end of the all. It's open till quite late, so there's no rush.” She smiled brightly. “In that case, I'll leave everything in your capable hands!”

Now why do I have a bad feeling about this? Pushing that aside for the time being, Rean stepped out of the classroom and paused to get his bearings. If there's no rush, maybe I'll explore the campus a bit. Haven't really had a chance to since classes started.

For one thing, he'd not truly appreciated how sprawling the Thors campus was. The only building that would really be considered small was what looked like a glorified shack near the path to the old schoolhouse. If he recalled correctly, the engineering club met there, though it appeared to be empty at the moment.

Just beyond the Student Union building, he could see what had to be the biggest library outside Heimdallr. Emma and Machias seemed to spend a lot of their time there, as did Jusis from what he'd heard. Rean himself made sure to stop at least briefly after school each day, bearing in mind Class VII's harder-than-normal coursework.

The gymnasium, he suspected, was just about Laura's favorite place; if there was anyone in their class more fanatical about physical training than he was, it was Laura S. Arseid. She was almost certain to join—and then dominate—the fencing club, he thought with a smile.

Prompted by some obscure impulse, he climbed the stairs to the roof. It was a bit on the chilly side, still being early spring, but he enjoyed the breeze. Besides, the view from the top was nothing short of spectacular. And apparently he wasn't the only one who thought so.

“Evening, Fie,” Rean said, stopping a couple of arge away from his petite classmate. “What are you up to?”

She barely spared him a glance, her expression not even flickering. “Being bored.”

Well. As dismissals went, Rean supposed it could have been worse. It beat Alisa's icy demeanor, at least. “Okay, then, I, ah, I'll leave you to it.”

He left the main building with a vague idea of visiting the library. The practical exam didn't worry him as much as it did Elliot, but academics were another matter. Economics in particular tended to make his head spin, so brushing up on that was a good idea, if only to keep Vice-Principal Heinrich's snide remarks to a minimum.

The sun was low in the western sky, but not quite set, casting a red glow over the Thors campus. Near the gate it made for a veritable sea of red-tinted green, most of the commoner students returning to the dorm for the evening. Rean didn't see any red uniforms among them, so he assumed his classmates were all still at school.

“Hey there, first-year.”

Rean paused mid-step, a bit surprised at being addressed so casually. Approaching from the general direction of the engineering building was a boy in the green uniform of a commoner. His grooming fit the carefree tone; his jacket was unfastened, his sleeves rolled up, and a broad white bandana held his messy silver hair in place.

“How's academy life treating you?” the second year asked with a smile, adjusting the drawstring bag on his left shoulder.

Caught flat-footed, Rean shrugged. “Well enough. Class VII kinda got tossed off the deep end, but so far it's working out pretty well.” Who is this guy, anyway?

The senior grinned. “It's only gonna get tougher, but I'm guessing you knew that already. Hang in there, and you'll get through it just fine.”

“Uh, okay.” Rean scratched the back of his head. “You're a second year, right? Mind if I ask your name?”

For some reason, the other student shook his head. “Hey, let's not get ahead of ourselves. First off, I'd like to show you a trick I've been practicing. Got a fifty mira coin I can borrow?”

Nonplussed, Rean fished around in a pocket. “I think so. . . . Here.”

“Okay, watch closely.” Smiling in a way that gave Rean an indefinable feeling of dread, the second year flipped the coin, then snatched at it in midair. “Which hand is it in?”

It was hard to tell, but. . . . “Right,” Rean said.

That drew a chuckle. “Sorry, nope.” He opened his right hand . . . and then his left. Both were empty.

Rean's jaw dropped. “What the?”

The older student laughed openly. “Keep up the good work; you're gonna need it to survive the year with Sara Valestein.” He picked up his bag. “Student council room's on the second floor, way in the back.” He winked. “See you around.”

Rean watched him go, and only then realized the second year hadn't returned his coin. He got me. Oh, well, it could be a lot worse.

The library, he decided, would have to wait. He'd visited the Student Union building before, of course, if only for lunch during his hectic school days. This, however, was the first time he'd looked around in any real detail. He was vaguely aware that a number of clubs met on the second floor, but not much beyond that.

Nodding a greeting to a couple of Class V first years, he casually mounted the steps. As he ambled down the hall, he idly glanced at the door plaques he passed. Art Club, two Chess Clubs (the only notable division between noble and commoner in terms of extracurricular activities, as far as he knew), music room, Photography Club, quite an interesting assortment.

Have to pass on the salon, though, he thought, casting a disgusted look at the stairway to the third floor. Even without the complications it would lead to, I don't feel like mixing with the stuck-up crowd. Pushing the thought aside, he stepped up to the door labeled “Student Council Room” and knocked.

“Come in!” a familiar voice said distantly.

Rean pushed the door open. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Sure enough, it was the same petite commoner girl, stepping out from behind a large but plain wooden desk. She looked a bit more haggard than when Rean had last seen her, doubtless due to a heavy workload. Faint circles around her otherwise-bright eyes suggested a chronic lack of sleep.

“It's been two weeks, hasn't it?” she said, smiling. “Nice to see you again, Rean Schwarzer. Instructor Sara sent you, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rean said, just a bit taken aback by the girl's sheer enthusiasm. “You're one of the Student Council, then?” Is she some kind of prodigy? She looks even younger than Fie, and that's saying something.

It must have shown on his face. “Is something wrong?” the girl asked, seeming concerned.

Rean shook the thought away. “Nothing, sorry. So, uh, are you a second year?”

She laughed lightly. “I am, but you don't have to be formal. Junior or senior doesn't mean anything to me.” She offered a bright smile. “My name's Towa Herschel, and I'm the Student Council president.”

It took a moment for her words to register, and even after that Rean wasn't certain he'd heard correctly. Someone that young, it just didn't make any sense. Second year was one thing, but Student Council president? This Towa must have been really something.

“I'm sure I'll have plenty of chances to interact with you and the other first years,” Towa said, looking faintly amused at his shock.

Privately marveling at Towa's sheer energy, Rean coughed. “Anyway, Instructor Sara wanted me to pick something up here, didn't say what.”

Towa smiled brightly. “Of course, just a second.” She rummaged around on the desk. “Here you go. Yours is on top.”

Feeling like a complete idiot for missing something so obvious, Rean took the bundle. “Our student notebooks; I completely forgot. One for each of Class VII, right?”

“Yep.” Towa looked a bit sheepish. “Sorry it's taken so long. Class VII's curriculum is so much more rigorous, and you're using a different kind of battle orbment on top of it, so they had to be compiled separately. After all, they double as instructions for the battle orbments. The other first years are using a more standard design, so we just reused last year's template.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Rean observed, his respect for the diminutive second year growing by the minute.

Towa looked away for a brief moment. “Yeah, and I've been doing it alone for the most part. Instructor Sara asked me to.”

By herself? That's crazy! Second year or not, there's only so much she can handle before she burns out!

“Don't worry about how long it's taken,” he said aloud. “If anything, we owe you for finishing it up at all.” He gave the room a quick once-over. “You're looking swamped as it is. I'd have thought it would be the instructor's job.”

Towa rubbed her chin. “Technically, yes, but she's always so busy, so I try to help out whenever I can. The other instructors, too.”

No wonder she looks so tired. As busy as a place like Thors gets, I'd be surprised if she manages more than three or four hours of sleep. Early bird though he generally was, Rean preferred a little more than that, if only to keep from total collapse. He'd probably have to make exceptions for exams, though.

“So I just give these to the rest of Class VII, right?”

Towa nodded. “Please. I really appreciate what you've agreed to do, too.”

Her words didn't register at first. For the life of him, Rean didn't recall agreeing to do anything in particular, beyond collecting the notebooks at least. And yet Towa's phrasing and the way she was looking at him suggested there was a lot more involved.

“Uh, come again?” he said at last.

The Council president smiled. “Instructor Sara told me all about it. She said you've agreed to lend the Student Council a hand, right? It's so nice of you, and you're giving Class VII a nice start here.”

And at that moment, Rean knew he'd been had. Instructor Sara had said she was leaving “everything” in his hands. Clearly that meant a lot more than he'd thought at the time. In retrospect, he was too naive; after the way his homeroom teacher had literally tossed them off the deep end on their first day, he should have looked at her choice of words more carefully.

Towa looked at him in evident puzzlement. “Didn't you tell her you wanted to ease our workload, and prove yourself worthy of this prestigious new class? She said I should delegate some of my duties to you, since you're eager to help out.”

Rean was pretty sure he'd said nothing of the sort. Couldn't recall a single word that even implied something so far-reaching. Not, he knew, that saying as much to Towa would do any good, and if he was honest he couldn't bear to disappoint her. He would save the criticism for his insane homeroom teacher.

“I'm sorry, did I misunderstand something?”

The puppy-dog eyes did it. “No, don't worry about it. I'd be happy to ease the burden a little.”

Towa breathed a sigh of relief. “That's good. I was afraid I'd screwed up somewhere.” She swiftly composed herself. “Anyway, a lot of it involves helping out Thors students and people in town. They come to us when they have problems, and we try to give them a hand.”

Sounded simple enough. A bit more of a runaround than he liked, but at the same time it gave him an excuse to wander around Trista. “Sure, I can do that.”

“Okay!” Towa said with a smile. “Now before you go, how about dinner? I think I owe you that much.”

It was an hour later that Rean finally stepped out. The sun had set, leaving Thors and Trista blanketed in a soft darkness. Most of the students had already returned to the dorms for the evening; aside from Towa and himself, he'd only seen a couple of Student Council members still on campus.

“And she's still got more work to do,” he muttered. “How is she even still on her feet?” A warbling from his ARCUS interrupted his musing. “Rean Schwarzer speaking.”

The voice was all too recognizable. “Guten Tag, my favorite little Wunderkind! Word is you had a dinner date with the Student Council president!” Her laugh was a little too suggestive.

“A dinner date you set me up for,” Rean said, not bothering to conceal his irritation. He'd already learned that Sara Valestein didn't much care if you were disrespectful, so long as you didn't push it too far. “If this is how you treat your 'favorite little Wunderkind,' I shudder to think how you treat people you don't like.”

Actually, he suspected a lot of people Sara didn't like ended up permanently crippled, if not dead. There was no doubt her carefree personality was no facade, but at the same time only a suicidal idiot crossed her. Even Machias Regnitz knew when to back off . . . usually.

“And why, exactly, have you been signing me up for things behind my back?” That was the real issue. Rean had taken a liking to Towa, so in principle he didn't really mind, but he did not appreciate being more or less tricked into it.

If Sara noticed his displeasure, she gave no sign. “The details can wait; for now, let's just say it has to do with the other part of your curriculum that I'll be announcing next week.” Again with the laugh. “I thought it might be a good idea for one of you to get a little preview, if you know what I mean.” He could almost see her smirk. “And it helps take a little heat off the Student Council. Two birds with one stone.”

Rean couldn't help rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well, I'll bet the reason they're so busy is certain instructors not holding up their end of things.” He sighed. “Fine, I'll play along.”

“Don't feel too pressured,” Sara said. “If there's a club you're interested in joining, by all means go for it! Wouldn't want you to miss out on the full Thors experience.”

Tempting, but he really had nothing better to do as of yet. “I'll be fine,” he said. “Haven't found a club yet anyway. Just one question.” This was what really had him puzzled. “Why me? It's the kind of thing the class president or vice president would normally handle, so I'd have thought Emma or Machias would be a better fit.” His mouth tightened. “And if you were choosing based on social class, Jusis and Laura were born into noble houses. I wasn't.” Which wasn't quite the whole story, as he was certain Sara knew.

From the sudden silence, he could tell he'd hit the mark. It wasn't often Sara Valestein was caught out like that. “Well, you could say you're at the center of Class VII. Not saying you're the leader, of course, but in a class full of nobles, commoners, and who knows what else, you're kind of special.”

Which explained exactly nothing. Rean honestly couldn't see what made him “special.” Sure, he was skilled with a sword, but so were Jusis and Laura. Certainly he got good grades, but Emma and Machias were even better. He couldn't for the life of him figure out just what set him apart.

“That's why I gave you first call on it, if you know what I mean.”

He didn't, but chose not to press the point. “It's an experiment, just like everything else about Class VII?” he hazarded.

“Something like that,” Sara conceded. “There's never been a class like yours, after all. Anyway, that's pretty much all there is to it for now. The rest is up to you.” There was an odd gulping sound.

No, she can't possibly be. . . . “What are you drinking?”
Another gulp. “Beer, of course,” she said, as if it should have been obvious. “It's the weekend, and here I am cooped up in my room, all alone! If only there was a classy gentleman to share a drink with, but alas, there's no such man to be found!”

I wonder why. Just great, my homeroom teacher isn't just crazy, she's an alcoholic.

“Anyway, instead of trying to put everything in its place, why don't you just relax for once, go with the flow? You're not going to find whatever it is you're looking for if you let yourself get blown away.”

Whatever that meant. Still, Rean really didn't have anything better to do. He still had an hour before curfew, so he said his farewells and strolled into the night. Though alone, he had no fear of being assaulted; Trista was so quiet that anything worse than minor vandalism was big news. Besides, he was armed.

Passing the florist, he caught sight of a familiar head of red hair on a park bench. “Elliot?” he said, moving to join his classmate. “What are you doing out this late? It's only an hour to curfew.”

Elliot jumped. “Oh, hi, Rean,” he said, breathing a bit heavily. “I know it sounds weird, but I'm looking for inspiration. Sitting here looking up at the stars, I thought it might get the creative juices flowing.”

“I've been training in Eastern swordsmanship for years,” Rean reminded him. “Trust me, that can get mystical enough that 'weird' loses some of its meaning.” He sat a couple of arge away. “So, any luck?”

Elliot scratched the back of his neck. “Kinda. I don't really have anything solid yet, but I think a few more nights of this will do me some good. Assuming our classes leave room for it,” he added with a rueful smile.

Rean chuckled. “I think you can probably manage at least one or two a month,” he said. “After all, Thors expects us to know more than just the arts of war. It's not just the nobles who are supposed to fit the 'officer and gentleman' role.”

“Okay, you've got me there,” Elliot said, chuckling softly. He looked up again at the stars. “This is partly to take my mind off the practical exam,” he admitted. “I'm still not sure I'm ready.”

“You'll be fine,” Rean said. “We've only been here two weeks; not even Instructor Neithardt is going to expect us to be smashing everything in our path this soon. Especially you, since you didn't have any combat training before you came to Thors.”

Elliot smiled at that. “I know, I know. Doesn't make me any less nervous.”

“I'd offer to help you train,” Rean said, “but I don't think our styles would fit very well. We can—and probably should—train to mesh them together, but sparring's probably out of the question.”

“No kidding.” Elliot shuddered. “I saw you our first day; you'd slice me to ribbons before I could move.” He quirked an eyebrow. “What about you? Not like you're the only swordsman in our class.”

Note to self: Elliot is more perceptive than he usually lets on. “I've been thinking about it,” Rean admitted. “Trouble is, well, you've seen how standoffish Jusis can be, and I don't know where I stand with Laura.”

Elliot looked surprised at that. “What do you mean? I thought you two got along pretty well.”

“For the most part we do,” Rean said with a nod. “Thing is, ever since we got here she's been shooting me odd looks. Nothing hostile, as near as I can tell, but it's a bit disconcerting.” He didn't add that he'd sensed a certain familiarity when he first saw Laura; that was something he wanted kept private until he had it straightened out.

Who knew how long that would take. Laura didn't seem ready to broach the subject directly, and Rean wasn't sure how she'd take it if he spoke up. Assuming he had the chance to; if his conversations with Towa and Instructor Sara were any indication, his life was about to get a lot busier.

Speaking of which. “Before I forget, I need to give you this.” Rean passed over a notebook. “That's what Instructor Sara wanted me to pick up.”

Elliot flipped through it. “Our class notebooks, huh? I was wondering when they'd be handing these out.”

“It took longer than usual because pour class is different,” Rean explained. “Tougher curriculum, different battle orbments, you get the idea.”

“Makes sense,” Elliot said, tucking his away. “Guess we'd better head back, eh? It's almost curfew, and the others still need their notebooks.”

Rean covered a wince. There was one stop he was definitely not looking forward to making.

An hour later, Rean lay sprawled on his bed. Distributing the student notebooks should have been a trivially simple task, but the nature of Class VII made even that more complicated than it should have been. Gaius and Emma had been courteous enough, of course, and Jusis polite if cool. Fie had been napping, which wasn't as big a surprise as it could have been.

Laura had been outwardly polite, as usual, but once again Rean had felt like she was examining him, trying to see past the surface. He'd tried to divert attention by asking why she was so sweaty; it turned out she'd been practicing, and concentrating so hard that at first she hadn't heard him.

Fair enough, Rean thought, glancing at the sword hanging on his wall. I do the same thing.

Naturally, Alisa had been the trickiest. Visibly annoyed on seeing him at all, she almost panicked when Rean had started to read her name off the notebook. She has snatched it away, thanked him—from all appearances sincerely, despite her irritation—and closed the door in his face.

One of these days, we really need to get through this, he thought wearily. It was an accident, and her resentment drags the whole class down.

Well. Regardless of Alisa's issues, he had a busy day coming. With a resigned sigh, Rean turned out the lights.

As Towa had promised, Rean found a list of tasks in his mailbox early the next morning. Most were, as he'd expected, fairly minor busywork, but one in particular stood out, from Principal Vandyck of all people. The old soldier had requested Rean investigate the old schoolhouse building he and his classmates had visited on their first day.

Rean shuddered. We wound up fighting a gargoyle, and barely got out alive. The request strongly recommended he not go in alone, which struck him as pretty basic. Maybe I'll ask Gaius and Elliot. We worked well together when Instructor Sara dropped us in there, so we should be able to handle a couple of hours.

Best to save that for later. Tucking the list in his pocket, Rean wandered out into the foggy Trista morning. There was a stillness about mornings there that appealed to him, reminding him in some ways of home. Here and there he saw locals going about their business, most of them in shops frequented by Thors students and faculty.

None of his classmates were around that he could see. Or so he thought; Machias was seated at an outdoor table next to the cafe, nursing a cup of coffee. The bespectacled student looked up, caught sight of Rean, and nodded a greeting before going back to the papers in his hand. Probably studying, Rean thought.
The others are probably somewhere on the Thors campus. He recalled Laura expressing some interest in available activities, and Elliot was probably at that moment trying out for the band. Maybe he'd look in on them when he got some of the busywork out of the way.

Pausing by the river, a flash of white caught his eye. It was an upper-class student he vaguely recalled from the welcoming ceremony, his white uniform contrasting strangely with the cap on his head. In his hand was . . . a fishing rod?

“Morning,” Rean said, his curiosity getting the better of him.

The upper-class student looked back over his shoulder. Noble birth aside, he was unremarkable in appearance, with short brown hair and a bland face. “Oh, good morning. I haven't met you yet; red uniform, so I'm guessing you're with Class VII?”

“That's me,” Rean confirmed. “Name's Rean Schwarzer. You a first year, too?”

The other smiled. “Sure am. Kenneth Lakelord, Class II. I'm with the Imperial Fishing Club. We're pretty laid-back, don't care if you're noble or commoner.”

Explains the fishing rod. He's pretty laid-back, especially for a noble. Almost as much as that second year I met yesterday. “I can guess what the Imperial Fishing Club is all about.”

Kenneth laughed. “Yeah, it's pretty obvious. Trista's supposed to be a great place for fishing, plenty of variety. I'm just trying to find the right spot.”

“At least you're having fun,” Rean said with a smile. “I've gone fishing a few times myself.”

Kenneth's eyebrows went up. “That so?”

“Yeah. I'm from Ymir; there's a river just outside of town with plenty of fish. In the summer, anyway,” Rean amended. “Can be hard to find a good spot in winter.”

Kenneth pursed his lips. “Huh. Well, then, here's a little something from one fisherman to another.”

He passed over a rod and what looked like a notebook of some kind. “You sure about this?” Rean asked.

The other waved a hand. “Eh, don't worry about it. The Imperial Fishing Club is all about spreading the joy of fishing, so I just hope you put it to good use.”

“I will when I have time,” Rean promised. “No idea when that will be, what with how grueling Class VII is, but I should be able to squeeze it in.”

The next couple of hours were spent running hither and yon, helping out shopkeepers, students, and at least one traveler. It was exhausting but, Rean ultimately decided, fulfilling. He was making a difference for the people of Trista, however small (or cliche) it might be.

Still, after almost all morning spent going this way and that, he needed a break. What most outsiders would have found baffling was Rean Schwarzer's idea of a break was stopping by the school campus. Grueling classes aside, it was his favorite part of town.

He'd thought briefly about checking out the Riding Club, but seeing Alisa on the field changed his mind in a hurry. Not something he was ready to deal with just yet. A brief look in the Student Union building told him Gaius and Elliot were both busy, so he decided to try the gym instead. Maybe he'd find a sparring partner at least.

The Fencing Club, Rean decided a few minutes later, was right out. When he opened the door he was greeted by none other than the blond from Class I he and Elliot had encountered the previous morning, who he already suspected was going to be a thorn in his side. Not. Happening.

Shaking his head in annoyed resignation, he walked into the pool room, and stopped dead in his tracks.

At the far end stood Laura S. Arseid, gazing contemplatively into the pool. Rean couldn't help gazing at her in turn, though not (he hoped) too fixedly. The gray-and-dark-purple school swimsuit she wore suited her perfectly, emphasizing her athletic build. She wasn't as developed as Emma, but—Rean gave himself a mental slap. That was not how he should be thinking about a classmate, especially one he'd only known for two weeks. And thoroughly outranked him, Class VII's mix notwithstanding.

She finally looked up at his approach. “Hello, Rean,” she greeted, giving him a brief measuring look. “Here for a swim as well?”

“Not exactly,” Rean said, stopping a respectful distance away. “I just needed a break; the Student Council Stuff is already running me ragged.” He eyed her swimsuit curiously, distantly relieved that it was Laura instead of Alisa. An arrow to the leg wasn't on his to-do list. “I'm amazed the Swimming Club is even active this time of year.”

Laura nodded thoughtfully. “It's true that winter swimming isn't for everyone,” she conceded. “The water is chilly, but for me it's good training.”

Rean chuckled. “Of course you'd say that. Would it be all right if I stayed and watched for a bit? I'll make sure not to get in the way.”

“Not at all,” Laura said. “In fact, your timing is excellent. I was just about to test my short-distance swimming speeds; could you record my times?”

“Sure.” Rean had to admit—very privately—that he welcomed an excuse to watch her. He drew a stopwatch from a jacket pocket and moved to the side of the pool. “And . . . go!”

Laura dove in, and Rean had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping. He'd seen her in motion before, of course, during exercise periods and combat training. Neither, however, had prepared him for the way she swam, a fluid grace that he honestly envied.

In the end he was so mesmerized he almost forgot why he was watching her. “Goal!” he called, clicking the stopwatch barely in time, and whistled. “22.34 seconds.”

Laura sighed. “So-so. I have a lot of training to do.”

Rean practically goggled at her. “'So-so'!?” he repeated. “That pool is huge, and you just tore across it! It's like you're part fish or something.”

“Let's not go overboard,” Laura said with a soft laugh. “If I'm part fish, then my father is a dolphin. He could outswim me in all likelihood.”

The more Rean heard about Viscount Arseid, the less convinced he was that the man was even human. “Maybe, but that doesn't make your swimming any less impressive. I know I couldn't have done it that fast.” Nor as gracefully, he added to himself. Like a mermaid.

Laura frowned. “Um, why are you staring at me?”

Danger! Danger! “Uh, s-sorry, didn't mean to.” Rean scratched the back of his head. “So, is swimming a specialty of yours?”

“More habit than specialty,” Laura said with a shrug. “Legram is on the lakeshore, so I would often swim in the winter to train. It would seem that has been of at least some help.”

Swimming in winter? Is she nuts? True, Legram is pretty far south, but still. “With your upbringing, though, I'd have thought you'd join a more combat-oriented club.” Rean glanced at the pool. “But I can see how swimming would help, build endurance if nothing else.”

“That is my hope, yes,” Laura agreed. “My father once told me, 'There are things about the sword we can only learn by stepping out of its shadow.' I took those words to heart.”

Rean nodded. “I'm not surprised. It's just so . . . you, if that makes any sense. Kinda makes me jealous, actually.”

She looked puzzled. “I don't see how. You too are a swordsman, so you should be able to do the same.”

She's got me there. “Yeah, you're right,” Rean said. “Forget that last.”

Laura didn't seem entirely convinced, but she let it drop. “Regardless, thank you for timing me. I'll need to train even harder now.”

“Anytime,” Rean said with a smile. “I'm sure you can do it.”

He spent another hour taking care of the Council's backlog, then decided it was really time to look into Principal Vandyck's request. Truth be told, he was curious about it himself; a labyrinth full of monsters under the school grounds was not normal, to say nothing of the gargoyle he and his classmates had fought at the end.

After a quick stop in Vandyck's office for the key, Rean paused near the entrance, wondering just how to proceed. Laura was busy, which was unfortunate given her prowess. Alisa was right out, as she still seemed to want nothing to do with him. He still wasn't sure about Fie, and last he'd seen Emma and Jusis were both studying. Machias, meanwhile, had said something about the chess club.

The left Gaius and Elliot. Fortunately, both were free. Albeit reluctantly in Elliot's case.

“A-Are you sure we should be doing this?” the musician said, looking around the foyer uneasily. “After what happened last time, I'm really not sure it's such a good idea.”

“That's because it probably isn't,” Rean agreed. “Neither of us would blame you if you backed out now.”

Elliot shook his head, nervous but firm. “No, that's okay. It's crazy, but it should help me familiarize myself with this orbal staff. We do have that practical exam next week.” He smiled. “I'd be worried about you two either, so I should at least try to help out.”

“Glad to have you along,” Gaius said. “Still, with only three of us, we need to be careful, and watch each others' backs.”

“Goes without saying,” Rean agreed, one hand on his sword. “We'll go through the main entrance; I for one don't want to take another fall.”

They found their starting point without incident, but something was definitely off. The room's layout matched what Rean recalled for the most part, but not entirely. Which didn't make any sense at all; buildings didn't just up and change configurations without outside intervention.

“Well, at least there's no sign of that gargoyle,” Elliot said, his breathing just a bit shallow. “But is it just me, or is the room different from when we were last here?”

“It's not your imagination,” Rean said, shaking his head. “It's definitely smaller, for one thing. Gaius?”

The exchange student nodded slowly. “Half the size or less,” he agreed. “Almost too small for Fie's acrobatics. And there are definitely things here that weren't present before.” He pointed to the southeast. “Like that door.”

Rean frowned. “You're right. I'm just about sure it wasn't there before.”

“Well, that kind of thing is why we're here, isn't it?” Gaius pointed out.

Moving with great care, the three of them approached the mysterious door. It looked normal enough, but its very presence meant it was anything but normal. Rean kept a hand on his sword, ready if something big and nasty burst through the door.

Nothing did, so with a silent nod to Gaius, Rean, slowly pushed the double door open.

What the hell!? He'd thought the maze they were forced to navigate on their first day was twisted. This was far beyond anything he'd seen thus far, none of it even remotely familiar. He half-drew his sword; such happenings made him very nervous.

“I don't remember anything like this!” Elliot exclaimed, clutching his orbal staff in white-knuckled hands.

Rean's blade was out. “That's because we didn't,” he said, eyes narrowing. “The layout is completely different.”

“And I sense new monsters in here, too,” Gaius added. “What do we do, Rean?”

Rean took a deep breath. “Principal Vandyck sent us here to investigate these strange happenings, and that's what we're going to do. And after seeing this, there's no way we can go back empty-handed. We go as far as we can.” He nodded down the twisting hallway. “Weapons ready, guys, and keep up the combat links. There's no telling what we'll run into.”

The first thing they ran into was a giant slug of some kind. Rean was able to kill the first one, but two more dropped in, the second almost landing on his head. He swatted it back, and felt something twitch in his mind—the combat link. He sidestepped, allowing Gaius to drive forward, impaling the slug creature, while Elliot's low-level Art drowned the third.

A successful test, which left even Elliot feeling more confident. With only three of them, they still moved at a cautious pace, but the local monsters weren't too much of a threat. In the back of his mind, Rean wondered if Vandyck had anticipated it, and assigned the task accordingly. He didn't know the principal very well, so there was no way to tell for sure.

Eventually they reached a door that led into a more expansive chamber. At first it seemed empty, until the center began to glow.

Rean bit back a curse. It was no gargoyle, but the armored, bipedal creature was quite hostile. Luckily, it also telegraphed its attacks; its first move was a wide swing of an arm, which Rean dodged with relative ease. A diagonal slash drew blood, but also enraged the apelike monster, earning him a glancing blow to the side.

Damn! Principal Vandyck had certainly been right to advise him not to come in alone. A healing art descending on him in the form of a cool mist, revitalizing him just in time to keep Gaius from being engulfed in what looked like a cloud of poison.

The exchange student was good, no doubt about it. A slight shifting of his weight, and his spear bit deeply into the monster, eliciting another shriek of pain and rage. It was, however, noticeably slowed after that. Gaius looked back, meeting Rean's gaze.

Rean nodded. “Together,” he said.

“Right,” Gaius agreed. “Elliot?”

“I'm with you!” the other said, his staff already glowing.

Rean set himself. “Ready . . . now!”

Again Gaius's spear plunged into the beast, while a blast of energy from Elliot's staff struck it in the side, knocking it off balance. Which was just the opening Rean needed; with a yell, he kicked off the floor, bringing his tachi down on its neck in a vicious chop, severing its head.

For a moment it seemed like it was unaffected. Then, almost gracefully, it toppled over and lay still.

“Whew!” Elliot gasped, wiping sweat from his brow. “That was intense. Quick, but intense.”

He looked at his classmates, and felt a twinge of envy. Gaius barely even looked winded; breathing a bit heavily, perhaps, but no more than that. As for Rean, the casual way he flicked blood from his tachi before sheathing it spoke volumes.

“But we pulled through,” Rean said. “And those combat links really work; it's like we were breathing in sync.”

“A good way to describe it,” Gaius agreed. “Strange, but not in a bad way by any means.” He frowned. “But it looks like this is the end.”

Rean nodded. “I didn't see any alternate routes, either. There's definitely something strange going on in here. Ruins randomly changing their layout isn't exactly normal.” He shrugged. “Regardless, there's nothing more to do here today. We should head back.”

The return trip was blessedly uneventful. Elliot didn't regret coming along by any means, wanting to live up to the Class VII promise if nothing else, but that didn't mean he relished combat. Also fortunately, a strange disc-shaped structure with a pedestal in the center turned out to have a sort of teleportation function. Convenient, but at the same time decidedly unnerving.

Stepping outside at last, they were surprised to find the sun had nearly set. Exploring that labyrinth had taken longer than they had realized.

“I know we all want to just collapse,” Rean said, “but we'd better report to the principal first.”

A few minutes later, they were standing before Principal Vandyck and Instructor Sara. Both listened without comment as Rean described the bizarre happenings they had gone through. Elliot wasn't certain, but he thought he saw something flash through Vandyck's eyes, but it might have been a trick of the light.

When Rean had finished, the principal stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Hmm, very interesting indeed.”

“The layout had changed completely since last month?” Sara pressed. “I knew something was off, but this goes way beyond what I'd expected.”

Elliot cleared his throat. “Um, do you know anything about the origin of those ruins? I'm no archeologist, but they look a lot older than the school.”

Vandyck shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. All I can say for certain is you are correct, that building predates this academy by several hundred years. All indications are it was constructed during the Dark Ages.”

Time seemed to freeze. The Dark Ages were called that for a reason, a period of sheer chaos following a more or less total collapse of civilization twelve hundred years before. Even now, with dig sites and researchers all over Zemuria, only fragments remained.

“Most of the ruins from that period have all sorts of strange stuff,” Sara said, for once lacking her usual weirdness. “Some of it made with technology we don't begin to understand; we're talking alchemy and outright magic here.” Her lip twitched. “Still, a building completely changing its layout, that's a new one. I'll have to poke around myself when I get the chance.”

“I would appreciate that,” Vandyck said. “Schwarzer, Craig, Worzel, thank you for your hard work.”

Rean bowed slightly. “It was nothing, really,” he said for them all. “We're happy to help in any way we can. If you'll excuse us.”

Just getting out in the hallway was a profound relief. It wasn't that Elliot disliked the principal or anything, far from it. The old man had a kind, grandfatherly air about him. He also had a very powerful presence, and Elliot had never really felt comfortable mingling with the great.

“You three did a great job in there,” Sara said. “Nice to see you're getting the hang of the ARCUS, too.”

“They were a big help,” Rean said with a tired nod. “Especially with just the three of us, the degree of coordination they provided really made a difference.”

Sara smiled. “That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Keep at it; you need to learn to form links with your other classmates, after all. And I must repeat, you did well today. Especially you, Rean. I'll be expecting great things next time, too.”

Elliot had to suppress a laugh at his friend's reaction. “I'll do my—wait a minute.” Rean eyed the instructor with clear suspicion. “What do you mean, 'next time, too'?”

The smile became a smirk. “Well, I figure that since you're doing so well already, why stop there?” She winked. “Besides, with how busy our poor Student Council president is, don't you want to help her out?”

Rean muttered something that sounded impolite under his breath. “Fine, I'm in.” He glared at the instructor. “Let's just hope I don't get overworked; I do still have Class VII's extra-hard coursework to deal with, you know.”

“I'll make sure to tell Towa,” Sara said brightly, ignoring the complaint. “The principal has given the okay for you to hang on to that key, so you don't need to go to his office every time. See you later!”

Are we going to make it through the year alive? Elliot wondered to himself. Okay, he was being a little unfair, but still, he was pretty sure this wasn't normal for students even at Thors.

“It's not like I have anything better to do,” Rean said after a moment. “Would you guys be willing to come along next time?”

“Of course,” Gaius said. “It's no trouble at all.”

Despite his unease, Elliot didn't hesitate. “Same here. It was scary, but we really work well together.”

Rean smiled tiredly. “Thanks, both of you.”

Despite his fatigue, he wasn't quite ready to go to bed. Though not as frightened of it as his friend Elliot, Rean was also a bit uneasy about the practical exam,, and so wanted to get in at least a bit more practice before bed, make sure he had things properly internalized.

So it was that he was half-crouched in front of a lit candle, eyes closed, hand on his sword. For several minutes he maintained that pose, completely still as his master had taught him. Then his eyes snapped open, and he moved. His sword flashed out of its sheath, and an instant later the candle was snuffed out.

He shook his head. “Not bad, but still too slow. Probably not going to get much better, either; I'm lucky I even passed the beginner exam.” He sighed. “Better get a bit more studying in; it's going to be a busy week. Could use something in the background, though.”

Just the thing for it sat on a shelf. While he was running around town for the Student Council, Rean had dropped by the engineering building (or shack). George Nome had been kind enough to provide him with a new orbal radio. He'd had a similar albeit much larger model back home. A twist of a couple of dials, and with a burst of static it came to life.

“It's 9:00 PM, and you're listening to Radio Trista,” a cheerful female voice said. “Welcome, welcome. Don't touch that dial listeners; you've found the perfect place to be tonight. It's time for the start of a brand new program here on Radio Trista, coming at you every Sunday!”

Well. It sounded interesting, at least.

“I call it Abend Time, after the word for 'evening.' Sure, it's cliché, but sometimes simple is best, right? Cliches are cliches for a reason, after all! Anyway, the name's Misty, and I'll be your host. Hopefully I'll be able to have some famous guests on sometime, so stay tuned or you might miss 'em!”

Rean nodded to himself. “She has a nice voice. Would be nice to have on in the background while I'm working.”

The rest of the evening was spent more or less peacefully, Misty's soothing voice a nice counterpoint to the dry texts he was reading. It was just enough to stave off the boredom.

Trista really was beautiful. Not the same kind of beauty as his home, but captivating nonetheless. Despite its proximity to the Imperial capital, it was a very peaceful place, where people (save for Thors students) just took things one day at a time. Alisa had described it as like a postcard, and he had to agree.

It just begs to be memorialized on canvas, Gaius thought. Not that he was quite ready to make the attempt; he wanted to be sure he could do the place justice, and he didn't think his skills were up to par yet. Though he didn't expect much help from the Art Club president; Clara wasn't the most supportive person he'd ever met.

No harm in preparing, though. Thors, he decided, would have to be visible; it was his second home, and the centerpiece of the town. Best to have the local church in view as well; he recalled a first year was also a sister at the church. Rosine, that was the name.

On further reflection, it would require at least two paintings. Given the town's layout, there was no way he was going to fit both the Thors campus and Class VII's dormitory in the same picture. For that matter, he would probably want to record different parts of Thors that weren't visible from the town at all.

Gaius fingered his spear. He would have to ask a local where to find the best vantage points. An overhead view of Trista could probably be done from the roof of the Thors main building, but others would require more careful positioning. Perhaps one of the Student Council could help.

Well. Enough musing on art; it was time for some practice. Fighting alone was always dangerous, but the monsters just outside Trista were no real threat to him. He'd defeated far worse at home, indeed that was in a way how he'd come to enroll at Thors in the first place.

A rabbit-like creature lunged for him, and the battle was joined.

It was a deceptively bright and cheerful day when Class VII assembled on the academy field for their first practical, contrasting sharply with the cold knot forming in Rean's gut. Oh, he wasn't worried about passing, exactly, but given Instructor Sara's odd habits, he couldn't rule out the possibility of something special being thrown into the mix.

He clearly wasn't the only one. Elliot was visibly twitching with unease, as seemed to be normal for him, and Alisa and Emma weren't much better off. Laura, by contrast, carried herself with a calm confidence that Rean frankly envied. Fie was unreadable as usual, though Rean doubted she was at all worried.

It was hard to tell if Machias was at all concerned; his usual belligerence overrode pretty much everything else. Jusis was another blank, while Gaius had a certain serenity about him. If he wasn't so focused on the spear, the exchange student would have made a good swordsman.

“Okay, let's get this show on the road!” Sara said with her usual unnerving grin. “Let me be clear: this is about more than just fighting skill, strength and stamina, that kind of thing. It's also designed to measure your ability to make combat decisions on the fly. Sure, a quick win is a good thing, but it won't be enough to get you high marks here!”

Alisa's grip tightened on her bow, just a little. “We'll have to use our heads, then.”

That grin was back. “You'll see. Anyway, let's get started. Rean, Elliot, and Gaius, you're up first.”

Could be worse, Rean thought. At least we've worked together before. . . . Come to think of it, that's probably why Instructor Sara grouped us together.

“Okay, here we go!” Sara snapped her fingers, and the air in front of them shimmered.

Rean instinctively drew his sword, eying the contraption warily. It was man-sized, roughly T-shaped, and looked vaguely metallic, dark purple in color. “What the hell is that!?” he yelped.

Elliot stepped back so quickly he almost bumped into Emma. “Some kind of monster!?”

“No,” Gaius said. His spear was out, but he didn't seem afraid. “I don't sense any life at all.”

“Gaius is right,” Sara confirmed. “Think of it as a scarecrow, if scarecrows moved, anyway. Point being, it's not alive. I've set its parameters pretty high, so it'll be a challenge, but you should still win. Probably.”

Rean kept his stance loose, flowing. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

“You worry too much,” Sara said. “Make good use of your combat links, and you'll be fine. Begin!”

Alive or not, the training target wasted no time. A blast of energy forced Gaius to jump back, but at the same time it left an opening for Rean. He took a long step forward, pivoted on his left foot, and delivered a quick backhand slash. The target seemed to stagger, allowing Gaius, linked to Rean through the ARCUS, to regain his balance and impale it.

They separated then, whereupon Elliot showed he was not idle. Stone rose up from the ground, impacting the practice target with a loud crunch.

“Good move, Elliot!” Rean called. “My turn!”

Except it wasn't; another energy burst almost knocked him sprawling. In the time it took him to recover his footing, Gaius had again stepped in, striking almost literally like the wind.

Just what we need! “Okay, guys, let's finish this thing!”

He didn't know if it was the ARCUS or just their experience training in the schoolhouse, but the others seemed to know exactly what he had in mind. Elliot fired off a blast from his staff, followed immediately by a Fire Bolt. Gaius impaled the target yet again, at which point Rean leaped onto the haft of his friend's spear, bounced off, and brought his sword down.

Seeing no further movement, Elliot almost collapsed. “I don't know how we did it, but . . . we won.”

“Don't sell yourself short, Elliot,” Sara said. “Rean and Gaius made excellent use of their combat link, but your support was vital, too. Combat isn't just about striking directly, after all.”

Rean's opinion of his homeroom teacher went up at that. Elliot was, relatively speaking, the weakest fighter in Class VII, but that didn't make him useless by any means. It was nice to see the instructor make a point of reminding them all of that fact.

“Guess that adventure in the old schoolhouse paid off, too, huh?” she went on with a smirk.

Gasping for breath, Rean was barely able to nod. “It might have . . . at that.”

He felt eyes on him; he half-turned, and saw Laura giving him another of those odd looks. She said nothing, however, only nodding in acknowledgment.

“Okay, group number two!” Sara said. “Laura, Emma, and Jusis, step forward.”

Rean finally allowed himself to collapse on the grass. He kept his eyes open, though; he wanted to see just how his classmates did. It was instructive; Laura wielded her bulky weapon with surprising grace. (Or maybe not so surprising, after seeing her in the pool.) Jusis was quick on his feet, and Emma provided support much as Elliot had.

The last group had the right idea, but while they succeeded, their effort was a bit rougher. Probably, Rean thought, because of Fie's lone-wolf tendencies; she didn't seem to play well with others. More a matter of disinterest than anything else, though, from what he'd seen.

“That was way tougher than I expected,” Alisa gasped.

“Indeed,” Laura agreed. “Instructor, if I may ask, what was that . . . marionette?”

Sara got a look on her face that made very clear indeed her unwillingness to tell the whole story. “Just something I got roped into working with a while back. I'd prefer not to use it at all, but it comes in handy at times, especially since it's very customizable.” She shrugged. “Anyway, that's it for this month's practical exam. Which brings me to the big announcement I mentioned. Are you ready?”

“Would it matter if we weren't?” Rean couldn't help quipping.

The instructor laughed. “Good one, Rean! Anyway, it's about a major part of Class VII's curriculum. The special task you're about to be assigned is,” she paused for effect, “a field study!”

“Field study?” Emma repeated, sounding like she didn't quite believe it.

“I for one don't like the sound of it one bit,” Machias grumbled.

Sara was back to business. “You'll be split into two groups, A and B, and each sent to a different location. While at your study area, you'll be given a variety of tasks to complete. Sounds like fun, no?”

Elliot swallowed. “Um, we only got here a couple weeks ago, and we're already being sent somewhere else?”

Rean felt his eyes narrow. There was something more to this, he was sure of it. “You're not coming with us, Instructor?”

“Of course not!” Sara said, as if it should have been obvious. “You're not going to learn much with me holding your hands. Have to be cruel to be kind and all that!”

She had a point. Sooner or later they had to sink or swim for themselves, and with all the rumblings that had been going on in the Empire of late, to say nothing of the Liberl incident two years past, sooner was probably better. He still didn't trust the way she was grinning, though.

“Well, I certainly won't object to a challenge if it helps me further my training,” Laura murmured.

We have something in common. How about that.

“Instructor,” Jusis said, “where and when will we be going, exactly?”

Sara coughed. “About that. Like I said, you'll be split into groups A and B. Each of you come forward and take one of these. They'll tell you the group assignments.”

Rean took a sheet of paper as instructed, and felt his lip twist. Group A: Rean, Alisa, Laura, Elliot. Study location: Celdic, the Market Town. Group B: Emma, Machias, Jusis, Fie, Gaius. Study location: Parm, the Spinning Town.

It could have been better, but it could have been worse, too. On the one hand, Alisa still gave him the cold shoulder at every opportunity, and he still couldn't figure out Laura's attitude. On the other, Elliot was pleasant company, and he would get a couple of days away from Jusis and Machias's incessant bickering.

“Well, these are some . . . interesting groupings,” Laura said.

Now there's an understatement. Forget Alisa's issues with me; Group B is going to be a regular powder keg. I give it fifty-fifty odds Jusis or Machias has to be hospitalized when they get back. Maybe both.

Gaius frowned thoughtfully at his copy. “Celdic and Parm. Are these towns both in Erebonia?”

“Celdic's a small town in eastern Kreuzen Province,” Elliot supplied. “It's small, but it has a railway junction, so it's still a major commercial center.”

“Parm is in the south,” Emma put in. “It's well known for its spinners, so a lot of textile manufacturing is based there.”

Somehow, Rean doubted Group B was being sent all the way to Parm just to learn about cloth. Then again, he had no clue why his group was going to Celdic. Considering they were students at a military academy, he would have expected a trip to an army base or some such. There had to be something more that he wasn't seeing.

“I'm more concerned about the utter lack of sense that went into the groupings!” Machias sputtered. “This is insane.”

For once, Jusis agreed, shaking his head in evident disgust. “Unbelievable.”

If Sara was at all perturbed by the reaction, she gave no sign. “You'll be leaving this weekend, and will be out in the field for two days. Naturally, you'll be going by train.” She smiled. “So make sure you're prepared, rested, and ready to go when the time comes!”

Looking first at Jusis and Machias, then back at Alisa, Rean could only reach one conclusion. This is going to be a long trip.

Three days later, the morning of their departure, and Rean was getting frustrated. Alisa had barely spoken a word to him even in class, and it was starting to make him very edgy. He didn't blame her for being upset, but it was an accident, and they had to get past it sooner or later.

Two weeks, and I still haven't been able to apologize. If I could get a word in edgewise I would, but she still won't give me a chance to. We have to take care of this if we're going to be in the same group. But how? It must be awkward for her, too.

“Um.”

Rean almost jumped out of his skin. Cursing himself for not paying attention to his surroundings, he spun on his heel . . . and met Alisa's eyes. “O-Oh!” he stammered. “Uh, morning, Alisa.”

“G-Good morning,” Alisa managed, walking up to him. She stopped a bit over an arge away.
Rean cast about for something, anything to say. “You're early,” he remarked at last, not mentioning that he was himself an early riser by nature. “We still have twenty minutes or so.”

She picked up on it anyway. “Same goes for you,” she said. “Just when did you get up?”

“Um, around five,” Rean admitted. “My usual time, believe it or not.”

Alisa lifted her eyebrows. “Morning practice?” she guessed, then shook her head. “No, you haven't joined any clubs.”

Rean wondered how in the world she knew that, but shrugged it off. “You're actually pretty close,” he said, and tapped the tachi at his waist. “I got used to getting up early while training.” He hesitated, wondering if he was about to get slapped. “You're on the lacrosse team, right? You must have some early practice sessions.”

“Twice a week, yeah,” she said.

This isn't getting us anywhere. On the plus side, at least Alisa seemed to be willing to talk. Maybe they could work this out after all.

“I'm sorry!” they said simultaneously. Then, “Why are you apologizing!?”

Rean couldn't help it. The sheer absurdity of the situation made him laugh out loud. Fortunately, Alisa didn't look at all offended; on the contrary, she seemed to be holding back a giggling fit. Just like that, it seemed, all was right with the world. Or with their slice of it, at least.

“T-That was interesting,” Alisa said when they'd calmed. No mistake about it, the coldness was completely gone. “But I really am sorry! I knew from the start that it was an accident; it's not your fault I fell on top of you! I just, well, lost it. This when you were trying to catch me. I should have thanked you instead.”

Rean shook his head. “Don't worry about it. The way that trap door was set up, the incline was too shallow for us to really get hurt, so I have to say I overreacted.”

“But you couldn't have known,” Alisa said, and sighed. “No matter how you look at it, I'm the one in the wrong. So thank you for trying to help, and I'm sorry I hit you over it.” She held out her hand.

Rean clasped it firmly. “It's all right. What's important is we're able to put it behind us.” His lip twisted. “I've always had trouble with this kind of thing. My little sister gets on my case over it.”

“Oh?” Alisa looked interested. “You have a sister?” She shook her head before he could reply. “That's for another time. I'm really the same way; been trying to figure out how to apologize ever since that first day. I'd say, 'Now's the time!' only to avoid you after all.”

Rean smiled. “Explains what happened in history class last week. I may not have needed the help, but I still appreciate the thought.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “At least we managed to get past it. Don't know about you, but I'd rather not end up like Group B.”

Alisa shuddered at that. “Tell me about it. We'll be lucky if Jusis and Machias don't try to kill each other.”

Soft footsteps broke in about then. This time Rean was aware of his surroundings, so he was unsurprised at seeing Elliot and Laura appear at the bottom of the stairs. He had to cover a smirk at their reactions; Elliot was openly gaping, and even Laura was visibly surprised, a rarity for her.

Laura recovered first. “Good morning,” she said, nodding in greeting. “A lovely day, isn't it?”

“Glad you two managed to patch things up, finally,” Elliot added. “I was starting to worry.”

Naturally, Alisa did not take that well. “W-What are you talking about!?” she demanded. “Come on, it wasn't that bad.”

“Regardless, I'm glad to see it,” Laura said with a faint smile. “Watching the two of you simmer has been rather trying.” All of a sudden she seemed to be smirking. “And I know Alisa has been desperate to apologize for her behavior this whole time.”

“Why don't we get moving,” Rean said before Alisa could explode. Her face was an alarming shade of red. “We can stock up on supplies on the way to the station.”

The four of them took their time; the station wasn't far, and Trista in the morning was a very cozy place. Rean felt more relaxed than he'd been since the incident, now that Alisa was willing to speak to him. He hoped that sense of ease boded well for their performance in the field.

One look at Group B on the platform made clear the others would not be so fortunate. Jusis and Machias stood facing away from each other, still as stone, the tension so thick Rean could have cut it with his tachi. There is no way this can end well. He couldn't help feeling sorry for Gaius and Emma.

“Oh, good morning!” Emma said as they approached, her cheerful tone at odds with the scene before them.

“Morning,” Fie greeted, much to Rean's surprise given her usual apathy.

Jusis and Machias, to no one's surprise, ignored them. Which was probably just as well.

“Good to go?” Alisa asked.

Emma sighed. “As much as we can be, yes. Parm is quite a ways from here, so we probably won't arrive before evening.”

“It is the southernmost city in the Empire,” Elliot agreed. “Really brings home just how big Erebonia is. But, um, about that.” He nodded at their more obstinate classmates.
Alisa let out a low whistle. “They're still being stubborn?”

“Afraid so,” Gaius said, looking as grim as he ever did. “This could be an interesting trip in all the wrong ways.”

Emma nodded unhappily. “I think we may have underestimated just how deep-seated their differences really are.”

“I'm already sick of it, and them,” Fie said, rolling her eyes.

Rean was torn between sympathy for his friends, and bone-deep gratitude that he wasn't in the same group. Having only just mended fences with Alisa, he wasn't sure he was up to dealing with that kind of hostility out in the field. I really don't need the headache right now.

“On a brighter note,” Emma said, looking at Alisa, “it's nice to see you two were finally able to make up.”

Alice instantly turned red. Again. “It's not like things were that bad,” she protested. “Besides, we've only known each other for two weeks. Not much time to get to know each other in the first place.”

General laughter followed. “Sorry, but we'd better get going,” Emma said. “See you when we're finished.”

“Later,” Fie said with a small wave.

Rean watched them go, shaking his head. Presumably Instructor Sara knew what she was doing, but he couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom. He just hoped the spillover wouldn't damage the rest of the team.

“Will they really be okay?” Elliot wondered uneasily.

“With Emma and Gaius along, things shouldn't get too out of hand,” Rean said with a shrug. I hope. “With Fie, who know. She's a mystery.”

Alisa pursed her lips. “She doesn't seem like the type to cause a ruckus, at least. Actually, more like the opposite, what with the way she sleeps anywhere and everywhere.”

That drew a round of chuckles. “I admit I'm also concerned for them,” Laura said, “but I believe we should focus on our own trials for now.”

“You're right,” Rean said, banishing the thought. “Let's go.”

Chapter Text

Rean was on one level highly amused by how accustomed to armed passengers the train crew—and other passengers—seemed to be. Laura's greatsword drew a few surprised looks, but more for its size than anything else; Rean's tachi was similarly eye-catching due to its very foreign design. That aside, they were hardly the only people carrying weapons; Rean spotted a bulge in an older man's jacket that just screamed “concealed pistol.”

All in all, it made sense. The Erebonian Empire prided itself on law and order, but there were always ruffians to contend with here and there, not to mention the monster populations in the countryside. Carrying a weapon of some sort just made sense when traveling.

“So, uh, it's about an hour to Celdic by train, right?” Elliot said.

“I believe so, yes,” Laura confirmed. “I know I had to change trains there on the way to Trista.”

Just as Rean had. Ymir was a long way from Trista (or anything else of significance in the Empire, save for Roer), which made direct lines few and far between. Now that he thought of it, it was kind of strange that he hadn't seen Laura when changing trains. Even leaving aside the red uniform, she was very distinctive.

“Legram's south past Bareahard, isn't it?” Alisa said.

“Indeed,” Laura said with a nod. “If we were going that far, we would have to switch again in Bareahard. Legram is in a very remote part of the country.”

Rean chuckled. “You could say the same about Ymir. Way up in the mountains, lots of woods. Most of the visitors we get are from Roar, since it's just a ways down the river.” He looked out the window. “Celdic's a merchant town, right?”

“That's its main draw, yeah,” Elliot said. “It's pretty small, but the railway junction and the Grand Market give it a lot of economic clout.”

Alisa crossed her arms, looking thoughtful. “It wouldn't hurt to go over what we know.” She cleared her throat. “Like Elliot said, Celdic is at heart a merchant town, though they get a fair number of tourists as well. It's in the western part of Kreuzen Province, and has been a trading hub for centuries. It's also a major railway interchange, linking Heimdallr to Bareahard and even Crossbell.”

“The surrounding area is mainly farm country,” Laura put in. “There are quite a few granaries scattered about, though the aforementioned Grand Market has in recent years largely eclipsed that.”

“Doesn't make it any less important,” Rean pointed out. “An army marches on its stomach and all that.”

Laura nodded. “True. One can find almost anything in Celdic.”

Rean let out a low whistle. “That's impressive, all right.”

“I'm looking forward to it now,” Elliot agreed.

Alisa sighed. “I would be, too, if I thought we'd have time to see the sights. But this is a school assignment, so you can bet we'll be busy. Especially since Instructor Sara planned our itinerary.”

Elliot groaned, leaning back in his seat. “Boy, isn't that the truth. I don't think my nerves have quite recovered from having the floor dropped out from under me.”

Rean winced, and not simply from remembered embarrassment. And then there was the way she'd roped him into playing errand boy for Student Council. “I can't even guess what this 'field study' is all about. Being part of our curriculum, though, it's safe to say it won't be easy.”

“It wouldn't be worth the trip otherwise,” Laura said. “For myself, I'm looking forward to learning the true nature of our excursion.”

Of course, Laura is always looking for new challenges. Not that Rean disagreed, exactly. He just preferred to know what those challenges were ahead of time. Being blindsided did not sit well with him.

Elliot, unsurprisingly, didn't see it that way. “I, ah, I guess that's a good way of looking at it,” he said with a nervous laugh.

Rean shrugged. “We're supposed to drop by the inn when we arrive. There's supposed to be envelop with our assignments, so we'll have our answers then.” I hope.

“Still, isn't this a little too well planned out?” Alisa wondered. “The station crew knew where we were going and everything.”

“Just goes to show how high the academy's expectations are for all of you!”

I have got to be hearing things. Sure enough, Sara Valestein came sauntering down the aisle, smirking the smirk that Rean had already come to associate with impending doom. With a sinking feeling, he began to suspect their little trip wasn't going to go quite as smoothly as they had hoped.

“I did wonder why you were nowhere to be found when we left,” Laura said, eying the instructor carefully.

Sara ignored the remark. “Excellent, Group A is all present and accounted for. And I'm relieved to see you two have finally managed to make up.

Rean barely restrained himself from facepalming, while Alisa turned bright red. Is everyone going to keep bringing that up!?

“Have you been spying on us!?” Alisa demanded.

Okay, better nip this one in the bud. “So, what brings you here?” Rean asked. “I thought you'd be staying at the academy.”

She smiled. “Well, I thought you'd be totally lost without me, this being your first time out in the field and all. So I thought I'd stick around long enough for you to check in.”

Now that was uncalled for. We may be new at this, but we're not helpless little kids.

“Um, thanks, I guess,” Alisa said. “Still. . . .”

“I think Group B could use your help a bit more,” Elliot finished.

Now that was an understatement. Rean shuddered to think what the other group's grades would look like on their return to Thors. Machias and Jusis, at least; he was reasonably sure Emma, Gaius, and Fie would do fine. Reasonably.

“They'd be a nightmare to deal with,” Sara said. “I may still have to head off to Parm, especially if those two get out of hand, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Rean was really starting to wonder how his homeroom teacher got her position in the first place. While he had to concede they'd already learned a lot in their short time at Thors, her methods were . . . out of the ordinary, to put it mildly. The trapdoor incident had proved to be just the tip of the iceberg.

“Unbelievable,” Alisa whispered. “She knew those two hate each other, but put them in the same group anyway.”

“I suspected it,” Rean agreed, “but for her to admit it so nonchalantly, I don't know what to think.”

Apparently oblivious to the byplay (though Rean was sure she'd caught every word), Sara wandered over to a bunch on the other side. “Don't mind me; I'm just going to take a nap right here. Go ahead and keep talking.” Before any of them could even think of replying, she dropped off to sleep.

Or at least appeared to. Rean personally had his doubts. For all her lackadaisical attitude, and his own qualms about her methods, Sara invariably had a reason for what she did. While acting in her official capacity, he amended, recalling her drinking habits.

Better to just let her sleep, he decided. For the moment, it seemed better to just watch the countryside flow past. He had to admit, it was beautiful scenery, mostly flat, it being farm country, but with some trees and rolling hills to spice things up a little.

Such a contrast with the mountains in which he'd spent most of his life. Even his training under Master Ka-Fai had been in much more rugged terrain; the “Sword Hermit” had very specific if peculiar ideas about a proper learning environment. Not that Rean had cause to complain in the end.

“Hey, Rean,” Elliot nudged him, “we're pulling in.”

At first glance, one would never guess Celdic was a major center of Imperial commerce. The town had a very rustic look to it, and the people Rean could see moved about unhurriedly, unlike the frantic haste of big business. There was, however, an underlying tension that he didn't think was normal.

“This is Celdic, huh?” Elliot mused, looking around. “Looks like a nice place to live.”

“Very relaxed,” Rean agreed. “More people than I expected, though.”

Laura stepped up to his left, one hand on her hip. “Probably here for the Grand Market,” she said, her gold eyes taking in the scene at a glance. “Even merchants from other countries regularly come to see it.”

A popular tourist destination on top of everything else. No wonder Celdic was prosperous despite its small size. Rean was starting to get an inkling of just why they'd been sent there. He still didn't know exactly why Class VII had been set up, but learning firsthand about the Empire was obviously important to their curriculum.

“Celdic is also famous for the local beer,” Sara said with a smile, “which they make with rye.”

Of course she'd be excited about the beer.

“But you're all still minors, so I'm the only one who gets to drink it.”

Teacher or not, Rean wasn't going to let that one pass. “Are you trying to make us jealous?” he asked mildly. “It's not like any of us want to drink anyway.”

Sara laughed it off. “Let's head for the inn. It's, ah, right over there.”

Once past the double doors, Rean suddenly felt like he was back home. Despite the much warmer climate, the Weathercock Inn reminded him very strongly of the Phoenix Wings in Ymir. A well-kept bar, people scattered about the tables talking, drinking, and laughing, it was enough to trigger a brief pang of homesickness.

Sara approached a thirtyish woman Rean presumed to be the owner. “Hello, Margot. Been a while.”

“Is it you, Sara?” the other woman said. “What brings you here?” She nodded at Rean and his friends. “I knew the kids would be coming, of course, but I didn't expect to see you with them.”

Sara shrugged nonchalantly. “I just thought I'd help them get settled in; it's their first field assignment, after all.” She half-turned, smile. “And here they are! Meet my lovely students.”

Firmly suppressing his irritation at the instructor's tone, Rean offered a slight bow. “We're first-year students from Thors academy, Class VII. I'm Rean Schwarzer.”

“Alisa,” the blonde said with a smile. “Thanks for having us here.”

“The pleasure is mine,” the owner said. “My name is Margot, the owner of this humble establishment. Sara has already made arrangements for you all. I'll show you to your room.”

Something about her phrasing rang warning bells in Rean's mind, but he couldn't figure out why. Then it clicked, and his face paled. “Room,” singular? As in all four of us in one room? Is she insane? Sharing accommodations with Elliot was one thing, but the girls were another matter. Especially Alisa. We finally make up for that accident at the start of term, and now this happens!?

With a strong feeling of impending doom, he followed Margot up the stairs. Sure enough, just the one room, with four beds. I am going to kill Instructor Sara for this!

“This is where you'll all be staying,” Margot said, waving them inside.

Alisa froze. “We're . . . all going to be staying in this one room?”

Resolutely not looking at Alisa, Rean gave the room a quick once-over. Four beds, an L-shaped couch, a single desk with a simple chair, and a low square table, it looked simple yet comfortable. Or would be, if Alisa wasn't about to spontaneously combust.

“More than enough space for our needs,” Laura said approvingly. “Many thanks.”

Somehow, I don't think Alisa agrees.

“Hold on a second!” Alisa exploded. “Are you really suggesting we sleep in the same room as the boys!?”

Margot held up her hands. “I wasn't exactly sure of it myself. But Sara insisted, so here we are.”

What is she thinking!? I can understand putting Machias and Jusis together, but this is crazy!

“I at least split the beds into two pairs,” Margot said. “I know it isn't much, but under the circumstances it was the best I could do.”

Rean held up a hand. “It's all right, really. We're going to have some problems,” he studiously avoided Alisa's fulminating gaze, “but it isn't your fault.”

He heard a sigh behind him. “Alisa, at this point we have little choice,” Laura said gently. “We are military students, and as such should not be fazed by mixed-gender accommodations.”

“I know that!” Alisa sputtered.

“In the army, such arrangements are a simple necessity,” Laura explained. “You will need to adjust to this reality sooner or later, and this does seem like the perfect time.”

Somehow, I really doubt Alisa agrees. Come to think of it, neither do I; sure, we're friends now, but this is just a little too delicate.

Alisa folded her arms. “Fine.” She glared at the boys. “But if either of you get close to our beds. . . .”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Rean and Elliot said in almost perfect unison.

That, at least, seemed to mollify her for the time being. Rean made a mental note to suggest they try a combat link soon, just to get a feel for it. As Sara had pointed out, he needed to link with all of his classmates sooner or later, and this was a good time to see which combinations worked.

“Well, now that things are settled,” Margot said, “please take this.” She held out a small envelope.

Opening it, Rean saw a list of tasks strangely reminiscent of the errands he'd spent most of the first free day running for Student Council. A monster hunt seemed logical enough, but orbal light repair? The requirement to record each day's activities at least made sense.

“What . . . the heck?” Alisa said, staring at the innocent paper in disbelief. “This is our field study?”

Elliot was equally startled. “Just looks like a bunch of menial tasks to me.”

“It does,” Rean agreed, “but I somehow suspect there's more to it. It's a lot like the work I was doing for Student Council last week.” He frowned, a distant bell ringing in his mind. “I think we should talk to Instructor Sara. She should still be here.”

“And while we're at it, grill her about this insane communal room thing!” Alisa said hotly.

No argument from me.

Sure enough, Instructor Sara was sitting on a bar stool, nursing a mug of beer. And from the look of it, it wasn't her first of the day. Her face was just a bit flushed, though her hand was steady enough. Rean felt his nose twitch at the smell; Sara's teasing notwithstanding, he'd never understood the attraction.

The mug landed none-too-gently on the countertop. “Ah, nothing hits the spot like a cold beer!”

Personally, Rean preferred green tea. She is going to have one murderous hangover.

“Looks like she's having the time of her life,” Elliot observed nervously.

“If you call getting drunk fun,” Alisa said sourly. “Honestly, how many pints has she already had? It's not even noon!”

Only then did the instructor appear to take notice. “Oh, you kids are still here?” she said, swaying slightly. “Go ahead and get started; I'll just be kicking back here, enjoying myself. Don't mind me.”

I really hope Margot cuts her off soon, or she's going to pass out in an hour or less. Rean started to speak, paused, and nodded to Alisa. She nodded back.

“We have questions,” the blonde said. “First off, what's with these tasks!? Doesn't look like anything from a military academy I've ever heard of.”

“They're easier than I expected,” Elliot said, “but it's still weird.”

Sara took another swig before answering. “It's natural for you to have doubts,” she said, her voice beginning to slur. “You only have to do the ones marked as required; I don't care about the rest.”

Rean knew better than to take that at face value. This was clearly another test, not only of their combat abilities, but of work ethic, initiative, and ability to think outside the box. If they wanted high marks, it was obvious they had to do everything on the list.

“What!?” Alisa yelped. “Why are you so irresponsible!?”

Rean held up a hand. “These decisions are as much a part of our field study as the actual tasks,” he said, looking at Sara through narrowed eyes. “Remember, our dear instructor loves to throw surprises our way.”

Alisa and Elliot were visibly startled. Laura, by contrast, appeared thoughtful, and judging by the look in Sara's eyes, Rean knew he'd hit the mark.

“You have two days,” she said, tacitly acknowledging Rean's deduction. “Trista isn't far from here, so you'll be returning tomorrow evening.” She smiled. “Until then, how you spend your time here is up to you. Every decision is on your shoulders.” Without another word, the inebriated instructor went back to her beer.

Shaking his head, Rean led the others outside. Running a hand over the hilt of his sword, he mulled over what he'd managed to glean from that conversation. As he'd thought, it was definitely a test. Instructor Sara—and probably the rest of the Thors faculty—wanted to gauge how well Class VII operated independently.

“So, what's up?” Alisa asked.

“That look in your eye has me curious,” Elliot put in. “Like you've just put some pieces together.”

Laura eyed him with carefully controlled interest. “Does this have any relation to our free day last week? Specifically, your activities during that time.”

Smiling at Alisa and Elliot's looks of open surprise, Rean nodded. “Exactly. Like I said, I spent most of the day running errands for Student Council, and while it's true one of them involved the old schoolhouse, the rest were pretty mundane. Helping out the locals.”

“And that's. . . .” Alisa said, a look of dawning comprehension in her eyes.

“Exactly what we've been asked to do here,” Elliot finished.

Rean tapped the assignment sheet. “And by the time I was finished, I felt like I'd learned a lot about Trista and its people. I think we've been given similar tasks here for the same reason.”

Alisa nodded slowly. “That makes sense. All I know about Celdic is what I've read. I've never actually been here before, unless you count the railway junction.”

“Helping people out around here does sound like a good way to learn about the town,” Elliot said.

“Indeed,” Laura agreed. “After all, the Empire is vast. This could well be an opportunity to gather knowledge of places we would never have visited otherwise.”

Rean nodded again, sharply. “Exactly. So I say we just work our way down the list, and immerse ourselves in as much of the local culture as we can.”

He paused while his friends digested that. All things considered, it made him feel better about the whole thing. Running around on the Student Council's behalf, after all, had proved quite rewarding. If he could do the same in Celdic, and make people's lives that much better, he was all for it.

“Count me in,” Alisa said with a smile.

“Me, too,” Elliot said. “It actually sounds exciting when you put it that way.”

“Shall we go?” Laura said, making it unanimous.

After a couple of hours, Laura understood why Rean had spoken so highly of seemingly trivial tasks. Just helping out around town, whether it was repairing orbal light fixtures or gathering ingredients for cold medicine, was oddly satisfying. Knowing she'd made a difference in people's lives made it all worthwhile.

It helped, true, that Celdic was a beautiful place. For all the bustle of the Grand Market, it had the look and feel of a country town not too unlike Legram. Few of the buildings had more than one floor, primarily the local inn and the Market Manager's residence. Even the chapel looked like a relic from a bygone age.

For all that, though, Laura was glad when it was time to venture out of town for the day's monster hunt. She was practically itching both to exercise her skills and see how well her classmates fought. Alisa was a known quantity, one of the best archers she'd ever seen, but she'd only caught glimpses of Rean's technique, just enough to recognize the style, and Elliot was an almost complete unknown in that regard.

“Alisa and I will form a combat link,” Rean was saying, slipping into a leadership role with an ease Laura doubted he even noticed, “since I've already tried it with Elliot. We need to see how well each combination works.”

To the others' immense relief, Alisa nodded without hesitation. “That makes sense. Laura and I tried linking when we were in the old schoolhouse.”

Laura looked at Elliot, who offered a shaky smile. “I'll try not to hold you back,” the musician said.

“I foresee no problems,” she assured him. “Rean had nothing but praise for the way you handled yourself in the schoolhouse, and you seemed skilled enough in the practical exam.”

Suppressing a smile at Elliot's stammered response, she followed Rean and Alisa to the town's west gate, and another complication. Three men in the blue-and-white uniforms of the Kreuzen Provincial Army, one an officer judging by the flat-topped hat, had just arrived from what Laura assumed to be a patrol.

“And who might you be?” the officer asked, looking them over coldly. “Haven't seen you around before. Do you have any form of identification?”

Laura bristled at the man's condescending tone, but said nothing. “We're students from Thors Military Academy, here on a field study,” Rean said. His tone was even, but his posture practically shouted his irritation.

“Thors? The Thors?” one of the soldiers said, eyes widening.

The officer stroked his thin mustache. “Now that you mention it, I do recognize that emblem,” he admitted. “The horned lion. My apologies for any rudeness; as you may be able to tell, we're with the Kreuzen Provincial Army. Our main duty is keeping the peace in Celdic.”

For all that Legram was technically part of Kreuzen Province, Laura had rarely seen any of the army there. Isolated as it was, with a small fishing fleet as its main industry, Duke Albarea usually just left her father to his own devices, save where taxation was concerned at least. The few contacts she'd had with the provincial army had been awkward at best.

“I've never heard of this 'field study' program,” the officer said. “Seems a little early in the year for it, too. Still, there are a number of Thors alumni in our ranks, so all I will say is be sure to uphold your academy's reputation.” He barked an order to his men, and they headed off in the direction of the local guard house.

Rean shook his head, and led them into the wild outskirts of Celdic. Laura was immediately on her guard; she doubted many of the local monsters could truly threaten the four of them, but complacency could still easily get them all killed. Her eyes darted here and there, taking in every detail of the countryside.

The monsters, of course, didn't know they weren't a threat, and so periodically harassed the quartet as they searched for the main target. They were, naturally, easily dispatched, the group's combat links working like a charm, as Instructor Sara would doubtless have put it.
Laura was favorably impressed with Elliot; despite his general nervousness, he easily held his own, and proved a natural with arts. More than once he used just the right art to weaken their opponents, allowing Laura to strike a devastating blow. The one time her guard went down enough to suffer injury, he was right there with a healing art.

It was Rean, however, who really drew her eye. As she'd thought, he fought with the exotic and deadly Eight Leaves One Blade style. He moved with a fluid grace, nimbly avoiding claw swipes and slicing deep into their foes. Far from perfect, of course, with notable slips here and there, but it was only to be expected. After all, at seventeen he would no more be a Divine Blade than Laura could be a master of her family school. Still, definitely no amateur. Yet there was something disquieting, as if he was doing less than his best. As if he was holding back.

She firmly pushed the thought away, for they had sighted their target. A large reptilian biped, with what looked like a sail on its back and far too many sharp teeth. Also looked to be quite fast for its bulk, and highly aggressive. Good enough for a light workout, at least.

“Okay, we're going to change things up now,” Rean said. “Laura, I think this would be a good time to find out how well we link.”

Laura nodded. She'd been waiting for this. “Agreed,” she said, moving to stand at his right.

Linking was still a very strange sensation, one which she suspected she would never truly get used to. It wasn't quite telepathy, she couldn't hear the other person's thoughts, but there was a definite sense of intent, which was more than enough in a situation like this.

She also couldn't help noticing that it was much clearer with Rean than it had been with either Alisa or Elliot. Perhaps it was pure coincidence, perhaps it was that they were both swordsmen. Something to ask Instructor Sara about later, though she had her doubts as to whether the homeroom teacher would be forthcoming on the subject.

Regardless, what mattered was it worked. Thus, when Rean sliced into the reptile's left leg, Laura was ready with a follow-up, bolstered by Elliot's support crafts. They split to either side, allowing Alisa to shoot it in the throat, then converged on its back, Laura's greatsword and Rean's tachi biting deep into its scaly hide.

Elliot let out a yell as the reptile's tale knocked him off his feet. It tried to clam its jaws down, but another arrow forced it to back off. Laura again moved to Rean's side, given Alisa the room she needed to help their support member up.

It was hurting, that much was clear. Blood streamed from the wounds on its back and leg, and it seemed to be choking from Alisa's arrow. One more push, Laura thought, should be enough to finish it. She didn't even have to look at Rean to know he was ready; without prompting, they moved in almost as one.

The reptilian monster's head flew away on a geyser of blood.

With a flick of his wrist, Rean cleaned the blood from his blade and sheathed it. “That went pretty well,” he remarked.

“Don't know how, but we won,” Elliot said. Now that the battle was over, he was visibly shaking. “Not quite the scariest thing I've ever done, but it's up there.”

Alisa was half bent over, her hands resting on her knees. “Would've been a lot harder without the combat links,” she said. “I hate to admit it, but these ARCUS units are proving their worth.”

Rean looked at her curiously. “You 'hate to admit it'?” he repeated. “Why's that?”

She shook her head quickly. “Never mind that. We'd better go tell those farmers that we took care of the monster.”

There was clearly something Alisa was keeping from them, but Rean let it slide. It wasn't his business unless it impacted their teamwork, and so far there was no sign of any problems. Besides, making an issue of it would have been hypocritical in the extreme.

After dropping by the farmhouse, they took their time returning to town. None of them said anything, but Rean suspected the reasoning was the same, fatigue coupled with a desire to fix the area in their memories. Regardless of what happened next, he knew they would always see this as an important part of their lives.

Stepping through the town gate, Rean paused to listen. He heard voices up ahead, and they didn't sound friendly.

“It would seem there is some kind of dispute brewing,” Laura said, eyes narrowing slightly. “In or near the Grand Market from the sound of it.”

“Let's go see,” Alisa suggested.

A short stroll later, Rean saw two men arguing near the center of the market. One was dressed like a local, the other in a more expensively-tailored suit, suggesting he came from Heimdallr. Not that his attitude matched his style of dress; like the local opposite him, he was visibly agitated, an angry flush darkening his face.

“This is my spot!” the local all but shouted. “I paid for it!”

The other man was practically spitting with rage. “I'm the one who paid for this spot, you oaf! I even have a permit right here, so stop lying and get out of my sight!”

Rean cleared his throat. “Um, my I ask what the problem is?”

Another merchant, a woman who looked to be in her early twenties, shrugged. “There seems to be some dispute as to which of these . . . gentlemen,” her tone practically dripped sarcasm, “gets control of this area to set up his stall. The young merchant is a local, while the one in the suit is from the capital.”

“Both claiming the same spot?” Elliot said. “That sounds . . . bad.”

Laura frowned. “Very odd. Permits for such things are normally issued by the province's ruling lord. For there to be such an issue—”

“Look!” Alisa interrupted, pointing.

The dispute had escalated from words to blows. With no one from the provincial army in sight, they had no choice. Rean took a few long steps forward and, ignoring the cries of startled outrage, got a firm grip on the merchant from the capital, while Laura pulled the local back.

“I don't know what's going on here,” Rean bit out, “but violence isn't going to help!”

“Calm yourselves, both of you,” Laura said. “You're in such a rage that you aren't thinking.”

The two merchants shared a look of disgust (Rean had to firmly suppress a chuckle), but complied. With a sigh of relief, Rean released his grip and stepped back. The merchants gruffly introduced themselves; the local was named Marco, the visitor Heinz.

“Are you high schoolers or something?” Heinz grumbled.

“It doesn't matter, it has nothing to do with you kids!” Marco snapped. “We're having a mature discussion here, and I'll thank you not to interfere!”

Elliot actually snorted, a sound Rean couldn't recall hearing him make before. “Since when is trying to strangle each other a 'mature discussion'?”

Alisa rolled her eyes. “You want to have a mature discussion? Try, acting, I don't know, mature.”

The urge to laugh was stronger than ever, but Rean forced it back. “We're students from Thors Military Academy,” he said, “currently visiting this town on a field study.”

“And while we are not yet formal members of the army,” Laura added, spearing each man with a glare Rean was grateful not to have directed at him, “we can hardly ignore a fight in such a public place.”

Heinz took a step back, his face paling slightly. “A military academy!?”

“Just great, soldiers in training,” Marco grumbled.

What did I ever do to deserve this? Before Rean could press the issue, however, another voice interrupted. “What in Aidios' name is going on here?”

A gray-haired, mustachioed man in a gray suit and bowler hat was walking down the wooden steps. “M-Manager Otto,” Marco stammered.

Otto gave a brief nod of greeting to Rean and his friends, then faced the two merchants. “I've heard what happened,” he said, his face and voice giving nothing away. “You both have a permit for this space, correct?”

“And they expire at the same time!” Heinz said. “What is the meaning of this!?”

Otto sighed. “I understand your concerns, but fighting here gains you nothing, and inconveniences the other customers. I'll be more than happy to discuss it in private, but until then I must ask this be put aside.”

“All right,” Marco said with clear reluctance.

Heinz let out a groan. “Fine.”

That could have gone a lot worse. I guess this 'Manager Otto' is basically the mayor.

“Close call,” Alisa murmured.

“Yeah,” Rean murmured back. “He must be in charge here.”

Otto nodded, appearing satisfied for the time being, and turned back to the students. “I want to thank you for stepping in,” he said. He smiled wryly. “I suppose, though, that I should expect nothing less from the infamous Class VII I've heard so much about.”

Elliot blinked, taken aback. “H-How do you know about us, sir?”

Otto bowed slightly. “My name is Otto Baggins, manager of the Grand Market,” he said. “I have some things to discuss with you, but I would prefer it be in private. If you'll follow me, I'll treat you to some tea.”

After the day's chaos, Manager Otto's residence was a breath of fresh air. The furnishings were, like at the inn, simple but comfortable, with a few wall hangings for decoration. The building's size was the only real sign of the manager's probable wealth.

He also made excellent tea. “So you were responsible for the way our assignments were set up?” Rean asked.

Otto took a brief sip. “Indeed. Principal Vandyck is an old friend of mine, as it happens. He asked me to personally select a few tasks you might be able to complete.”

“Well, that's . . . nice of him,” Elliot said, surprised.

“Indeed. And we're grateful for your assistance as well, Manager Otto,” Laura added.

Otto shook his head, smiling. “It's no trouble at all. And I'm in turn grateful for you taking some problems off my hands. Especially at the market; if you hadn't been there, someone would have gotten hurt.”

“So those two will be taking turns?” Alisa asked.

Otto nodded with a long-suffering sigh. “Both permits are genuine, but neither their merchandise nor—as you saw—their temperaments are suited to sharing space. Eventually, after much grumbling, they agreed to use the front stall on alternate weeks. Unfortunately, the alternate spot is near the back, which probably means lower sales.”

“Better than nothing, I guess,” Elliot said doubtfully.

Rean frowned at his cup. He didn't know much about how Kreuzen Province operated, and he doubted Jusis would be particularly forthcoming, but duplicate permits of that sort seemed like an odd mistake to make. Messing with business like that made for lower tax revenues, not something any lord wanted.

“I must admit, this is very perplexing,” Laura said. “As I understand it, the issuing of such permits is the responsibility of each area's ruling lord. For a mistake like this to be made at all leads to some rather unpleasant questions.”

Is she reading my mind? “Exactly,” Rean said. “It's the lord's duty to manage the flow of goods; mismanagement means the economy suffers.”

“Quite so,” Otto said. “Ordinarily, that responsibility would fall to the duke's household. Unfortunately, the situation in Duke Albarea's household has become rather . . . complicated of late.”

Rean felt his eyes narrow. “Complicated?”

Otto sighed. “A few months ago, he raised the sales tax to a considerable degree. With more of their profits being taken from them, the merchants have gotten rather desperate. Fights like the one you saw are becoming ever more common.”

I'm going to have to at least try to ask Jusis about this. A tax issue in a place like Celdic could send ripples throughout the Empire.

“Raising sales taxes should not be done without careful consideration,” Laura said. “History shows just how damaging it can be.”

Alisa leaned forward. “Have you at least tried protesting the taxes?”

With an aggrieved groan, Otto leaned back on the sofa, looking suddenly weary. “Of course. I've been to Bareahard several times to petition the duke personally. To no avail; they always drive me away from the gate, unwilling to even listen.”

Rean pursed his lips. “Then it sounds like this permit mix-up might not be so accidental.”

Elliot stared at him with wide eyes. “Y-You can't be suggesting. . . .”

“It could be carelessness, or they might be deliberately causing problems,” Alisa said, following Rean's line of thought. “Either way, it's not good.”

Otto cleared his throat. “We shouldn't jump to conclusions. I will say this much, before the all this began, the soldiers at the guardhouse would have intervened without hesitation.”

Laura appeared very disturbed at this. “Unlike the Imperial Army, the provincial army's main task is to preserve the status quo throughout their territory, so mediating such arguments is unquestionably within their area of responsibility.”

“Correct,” Otto said grimly. “Which suggests they have no intention of keeping order unless we just accept the tax increase. The local commanding officer has implied as much.”

Rean felt his blood begin to boil. He'd not had any contact with Marquis Rogner that he could recall, but last he'd heard things weren't quite so insane in Nortia Province, and Ymir itself was largely left alone. He could easily imagine his father's reaction to what was happening in Celdic, though.

“I shouldn't be venting on you like this,” Otto said. “This is strictly an internal affair, not something you should be worried about. For now, you need to focus on your field study. I'll have a few new tasks for you tomorrow morning.”

“We'll do our best to live up to your expectations,” Laura said, speaking for all of them.

“This is just crazy!” Elliot said, more heatedly than usual. “Think we can ask Jusis for help, since his father's the one in charge?”

Rean shook his head. “I doubt it. Oh, I'm sure Jusis would be sympathetic, but he likely wouldn't be able to do anything. Among the nobility, decisions by the head of the household are absolute. And since House Albarea is one of the Four Great Houses, you can bet they hold firmly to tradition.”

“Yeah, the Emperor himself is probably the only one with more power,” Alisa agreed.

“I see you're all busy mulling things over. Excellent, excellent!”

Rean was too tired to even be surprised. “Instructor?”

“I figured I should get going,” Sara said, smiling a bit ruefully. “As expected, Group B's not getting anything done, so I'm off to sort things out.”

The only surprise was that it took so long. It was amazing she'd been able to stay in Celdic long enough to get tipsy, the way Jusis and Machias were going. Then again, maybe she needed the alcohol to numb her brain to the sheer insanity she'd have to deal with.

“Now?” Alisa said, startled.

“Parm is a considerable distance away,” Laura said, head tilted slightly. “It would seem rather late.”

Sara waved a hand. “You just let me worry about that. You four are capable to taking care of yourselves anyway, right? Put your heads together and think, and I'm sure you'll know what to do.” With a wave, she was off. “Aidios be with you. I'll be looking forward to your report.”

Rean was torn between marveling at her uncanny ability to keep track of things, and a mild death wish at the thought of writing those reports. He was dead on his feet as it was, and he doubted the others were any better off. All he wanted to do was sleep. Well. Maybe dinner would at least given him one last burst of energy.

Half an hour later, night had fallen, and Group A sat around a small table at the Weathercock, no less tired, but at least more relaxed. Helped that the food was good, a lot like what Rean had occasionally had at home, albeit with less meat than he usually preferred.

“Ah, that was delicious,” Elliot said contentedly. “Fresh vegetables and everything.”

“Nothing beats food made from local ingredients,” Rean agreed with a smile.

Laura closed her eyes. “I was partial to the rye bread, myself.”

“I guess this 'field study' thing isn't so bad when you take the menu into account,” Alisa said with a chuckle. “Kinda wonder what Group B is doing right now.”

Rean snorted. “Not sitting around a table and talking like we are, that's for sure.”

“I'd be shocked if they were,” Elliot said. He paused, frowning. “I can't help but wonder what Class VII's real purpose is, though. Instructor Sara says it's about the ARCUS, but it's too elaborate to be just that.”

“No doubt,” Laura said. “There would be little point to these tasks otherwise, since few involve actual combat.”

Alisa drained her mug. “It's like she wants us to experience all sorts of, I don't know, stuff. Like that thing with Becky's father a little while ago. I just can't figure out why.”

Rean rubbed his chin. “What do we have to offer one another, when our reasons for enrolling are doubtless so different?”

“My reason is simple,” Laura said. “I aim to to come ever closer to my goal. Or rather, to the person whom I regard as such.”

Elliot looked interested. “Who's that?”

“This is neither the time nor place,” Laura said with a faint smile. “What about you, Alisa?”

The blonde blinked, apparently taken aback. “Hmm, I don't really have any single reason. If I had to choose, it would be to assert my independence. My situation back home isn't exactly ideal, and this seemed like a good way to . . . do more, I guess.”

Elliot smiled a bit shamefacedly. “Looks like I'm in the minority. I wasn't interested in coming here at all. I originally wanted to do something completely different.”

Rean nodded, a memory clicking. “You wanted to go to a music academy, right?”

“Well, I wasn't really serious,” Elliot said with a laugh. “What about you, Rean?”

Somehow, he hadn't expected the question to be turned back on him, and it took some careful thought. “I wanted to find myself, I guess.” And doesn't that just sound lame. From his friends' expressions, Elliot and Alisa at least, it sounded almost impressive. Laura, by contrast, was unreadable. “Sorry, that makes it sound more impressive than it really is. It's the best way I can think of, though.”

“Eh, nothing wrong with that,” Elliot said. “A journey of self-discovery.”

“I didn't know you were such a romantic,” Alisa said. “You sure don't look like it.”

Rean sighed. “I should've just kept my mouth shut.”

It was about time to write their reports in any case. Rean wanted to get that over with so he could get at least some sleep. They had another long day ahead of them, followed by another report. Maybe he'd at least be able to catch a nap during the train ride home.

“Rean?”

He paused, half-turning. “What is it?”

Laura was looking unusually serious. “I was unsure whether to ask or not, but I've decided this question bears answering.” She looked him in the eye. “Why have you chosen to hold back?”

Rean froze. This was precisely the kind of question he wanted to avoid. “What?” he asked, playing for time.

“Your sword style and technique,” Laura said. “It is the Eight Leaves One Blade school, is it not?”

Time seemed to stop. He should have expected a swordsman of Laura's caliber to recognize his style, but it was still a shock. And not a particularly welcome one.

“Popularized by the 'Sword Hermit,' Yun Ka-fai,” Laura continued, “it combines the best elements of other Eastern sword styles. Those who master any of its forms are referred to as 'Divine Blade,' and are said to understand the true nature of all things.”

Rean moistened his lips. “Well, uh, you sure know a lot about it. I didn't think it was all that well-known here in the Empire.”

Laura's nod was almost solemn. “We of the Arseid school consider knowledge of other styles an important part of our training. Also, my father once told me, 'If you follow the path of the sword, it is only a matter of time before you encounter a follower of the Eight Leaves.'”

For a moment Rean was shocked speechless. “Your father said that?” he got out when he found his voice. “Heh, it's an honor to be acknowledged by the Radiant Blademaster himself.” He shook his head. “Really, though, I'm nothing special. I'm just a dropout who was never able to get past beginner level. While it's true I trained under Master Ka-fai for a while, I started to feel like I wouldn't be able to go further with my abilities, and he cut my training short.”

Laura's jaw dropped, just a little. “What. . .?”

“So I'm really not holding back,” Rean said. “Actually, I feel like I'm, I don't know, dirtying the name of the Eight Leaves.” He sighed. “But this is my limit. I'm sorry that I can't meet your expectations.”

He could tell from the look in her eyes that she wasn't happy with his answer. What surprised him was how much that realization hurt, as if he'd been stabbed in the heart. It didn't, no, it made some sense, but the intensity of the feeling confused him. They'd only known each other for three weeks, after all.

Then she abruptly turned her back. “Laura?”

“You have no reason to apologize to me,” she said, her spine stiff. “This is a matter you must come to terms with on your own.” A brief pause. “I must admit to some disappointment, however. I'd hoped you would make a good sparring partner.”

Rean looked down. He'd been hoping for much the same thing. Was this why she kept giving him such odd looks?

“I'm going outside to practice for a bit,” Laura said, still not looking at him. “Please finish your report with Alisa and Elliot.”

Rean watched her go, feeling like his heart had imploded.

Despite his fatigue, sleep eluded him that night. Rean tossed and turned, going over his conversation with Laura in his mind over and over. Try as he might, he couldn't figure out just what he'd done wrong, or how to make it right. The disappointment in her eyes and voice was like an accusation.

In the end, he decided he should at least apologize, and try to smooth things over. It wasn't much, but it was enough to finally get him a little sleep.

Margot had a meal ready for them when they came downstairs, along with a list of the day's tasks. Rean happily devoured his share, then opened the envelope. There was another monster hunt, he noted, this time a request direct from Manager Otto. Probably a bit nastier than the one they'd faced the day before.

“Fewer than yesterday,” Alisa observed.

“Maybe it's because we're going back to Trista today,” Elliot suggested. “We need to be at the station on time, after all.”

Margot nodded. “That would be just like him; Manager Otto is a very considerate man.” She looked at a clock above the bar. “The last train leaves at nine tonight. If you finish quickly enough, you'll be able to have dinner before you go.”

Now there was incentive to expedite things. “Thanks you very much,” Rean said with a brief bow.

“Indeed,” Laura said. “You've been most kind.” She looked at her classmates. “Shall we get started, then?”

Rean felt a muscle twitch. He'd really hoped he'd be able to clear the air with Laura before they got moving, especially given how well their combat link had worked. Then again, there were only a few tasks, so they could probably take a little time out.

No time like the present. “Hey, Laura?” he ventured. “I wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday evening.”

She met his gaze, and to his immense relief, she was smiling. “Like I said then, this is not something for which an apology is required. It's something you must come to terms with on your own.”

Rean shook his head. “It's not about that. I wanted to apologize for making light of the way of the sword. What I said about being a 'dropout who never got past beginner level' was disrespectful, to Master Ka-fai, to the school I follow, and to the path of the sword itself. That's why it was inappropriate of me to say what I did, so . . . I'm sorry.”

For a moment Laura didn't reply, merely looking at him thoughtfully. “In that case, there is one person to whom you own an apology. I can't pretend to know much about your personal circumstances, but regardless of one's background or social standing, one should always be able to live with pride in oneself. Thus, if you truly did make light of yourself and your own abilities, it is an act of shame for which you owe yourself recompense.”

Rean blinked. “I . . . I never thought of it that way.”

From the look of it, Laura had expected an answer along those lines. “Let me ask you one question, Rean. Do you like the path of the sword?”

It took a moment for the question to even register. “It's not a matter of liking or disliking,” he said with a minimalist shrug. “It's part of my life, a fundamental part of who I am.”

Laura nodded, apparently satisfied. “That's all I wanted to hear,” she said with a warm smile. “I feel exactly the same way.”

And with that, the brief storm was past. Rean was ready to face whatever the day threw at them. At least it was easier than with Alisa, not that it was her fault.

“So you two are friends again, huh?” Elliot asked with a grin.

Rean shot him a brief glance. “I didn't know we weren't. It was just a bit awkward is all.”

“Indeed,” Laura said. “I think it was resolved rather neatly.”

Hands on her hips, Alisa sighed in exasperation. “You two, I feel like an idiot for wracking my brains trying to figure out how to get you to make up.”

Rean looked at her sharply. “You were what?”

“We seem to have caused them undue concern,” Laura said,

The looked on Alisa's face made it very difficult indeed to hold back laughter. “Urgh, can we just forget about it and move on already!?”

In the end, it was futile. Rean was able to keep from doubling over, but that was all. The way Alisa glared daggers at him, not helped by Elliot and even Laura joining in his mirth, only made him laugh harder. Even Margot joined in, leaving the young archer almost visibly steaming.

The laughter came to an abrupt end when one of the Weathercock's employees dashed in, visibly out of breath. “Margot, there's trouble, big trouble!”

Margot reached a hand out to steady her. “Slow down, Louise, it's practically the crack of dawn, and you're causing enough commotion to wake the dead.” She frowned. “Where have you been, anyway? You're almost an hour late!”

Louise swallowed, smoothing her red hair nervously. “I'm sorry, I just got caught up in things on my way here. But never mind that; there's big, big trouble! Over at the market!”

Her embarrassment forgotten, Alisa stepped forward. “What terrible thing happened, exactly?”

Seeming to calm at last, Louise took a deep breath. “Actually, I think it was last night. Two stalls in the Grand Market were destroyed, and their merchandise stolen!”

“Hold on,” Elliot protested. “A robbery in the Grand Market?”

Rean's first thought was of the fight they'd observed the day before. Though Heinz and Marco had, albeit grudgingly, accepted the Market Manager's decision, tempers had run high enough that he could easily see either one wreaking a little havoc out of spite.

“The Market will probably be opening late today,” Margot observed. “Which could mean more customers for us while people wait. Louise, let's get this place ready!” She looked at Rean as the younger woman scurried off. “As for the four of you, this is a local problem. You should just focus on your field study.”

Rean nodded absently, but something in him rebelled at the idea of just leaving it at that. There had to be something they could do, especially since they had only a couple of assigned tasks. Going out of their way didn't seem all that unreasonable.

“I must admit, I'm curious,” Laura said once they were outside.

“Me, too,” Alisa said. “The Market's not far, so there's no harm in at least taking a look.”

They took off at a light jog, Rean already rehearsing their explanation in his mind. It was quite simple, really; though investigating a robbery wasn't among their assigned tasks, as Instructor Sara had not-so-subtly pointed out, gauging their ability to adapt to unexpected situations and act independently was one of the main points of the field study. Honestly, it would not have surprised him if ignoring the matter would lead to a lower grade.

Even though the Market wasn't open, quite a crowd had already gathered. “Hey, it's the students from yesterday,” an older merchant, a fellow named Gibson, observed,

“Opening late today after all,” Rean commented.

Gibson sighed. “Afraid so. I'm guessing you already know about the robbery. The two merchants whose stalls were destroyed are still arguing about it.”

Distant, angry voices drifted from the center of the Market. Though not quite intelligible, they were instantly recognizable, and Rean felt his heart sink. He wasn't surprised, granted; resigned, with the beginnings of a headache, but not surprised.

“Not those two again,” Alisa groaned.

Gibson's lip twitched. “The manager came down an hour ago to try and break them up, but so far he hasn't had much luck.”

Feeling his classmates' eyes on him, Rean cleared his throat. “Um, would it help if we talk to them?”

The merchant rubbed his chin. “After everything that happened yesterday, you kids just might be the cavalry we need.” He stepped to one side. “Aidios be with you.”

Deep down, Rean was very grateful that he was armed. Heinz and Marco were indeed squaring off while Manager Otto looked on. Seeing the two merchants' florid faces, and Otto's look of increasingly frustrated helplessness, he had a feeling it wouldn't be quite as easy this time.

“How dare you destroy my stall, you damned coward!?” Heinz shouted. “I knew you country folk couldn't be trusted! Just admit it already; there's no one else it could be!”

Country born and bred himself, Rean bristled at Heinz's words. Not that he was able to get a word in. “Who are you calling a coward, you Heimdallr snob!?” Marco shot back. “You're the one who wanted my spot all to yourself! Playing innocent and trying to paint me as the bad guy, you make me sick! Let's settle this here and now!”

Each man took a menacing step forward, only to freeze in place, faces paling in almost comical unison. Maybe it was the sudden realization that other people were in close proximity, and thus could get hurt. Maybe it was Manager Otto's death glare.

Or perhaps it was the distinctive rasp of metal on wood as Rean half-drew his sword. “Let's not have any violence,” Rean said, keeping his tone as mild as possible.

“Stay out of this!” Marco snapped, keeping a wary eye on the exotic weapon. “I'm going to make him pay for smashing my stall!”

“Smashing?” Elliot repeated, his blue eyes darting back and forth.

Sure enough, both the much-sought-after central stall and the one in the back were, for lack of a better word, smashed. Debris littered the ground, and all of their goods had vanished, save for the odd trinket the thief or thieves had presumably missed.

“They're smashed, all right,” Elliot said, wincing.

“However,” Laura said, fixing the merchants with a stern look, “harming one another is not going to bring them back. In the end, they will still be smashed, and you will be worse off.”

Somehow, a lecture from Laura S. Arseid had as much effect as Rean almost drawing steel. “But this anger isn't just going to go away!” Marco protested. “He took all my goods, too, so I have nothing to sell!”

“What are you talking about!?” Heinz demanded. “You stole my goods! Now give them back this minute, or, or I won't be responsible for my actions!”

“Stop this at once!”

Rean hurriedly allowed his blade to drop back into its sheath. Fortunately for him, the provincial army officer who'd spoken (the same man they'd encountered the day before) didn't appear to have noticed. He was too busy glaring at Heinz and Marco.

Ignoring Class VII, the officer marched up to the bickering pair, four soldiers in tow. “Just what the hell is going on here!? It's the middle of the morning!” he barked. “Enough of this nonsense!” His glare shifted to Otto. “You're in charge here, correct? I demand an explanation for all this.”

His spine ramrod stiff, Otto gave the officer a brief synopsis of the events of the last day and a half. The officer nodded slowly, occasionally asking for clarification.

When Otto was finished, the officer was back to glaring at Heinz and Marco. “Simple enough. Men, take them away!”

“What!?” Heinz yelped. “What do you mean, 'take us away'!?”

The officer snorted disdainfully. “Two stalls destroyed, two sets of good stolen. The truth is clear as day: two merchants in a heated disagreement committed the same crime at the same time.”

What? That doesn't make any sense. Not that Rean would deny the possibility, but just saying so without even a cursory investigation struck him as a bad move to say the least. Lazy at best, outright corrupt at worst. He hoped it was the former.

Laura appeared to agree. “Isn't that a little premature?” she asked, her tone civil yet cold.

“Hmph!” the officer grunted. “The provincial army doesn't have time to waste on the petty squabbles of merchants.” His lip curled. “But I'm not an unreasonable man. Cease your dispute, and you will be left alone. Continue, and you come with us. The choice is yours.”

Alisa lowered her voice. “They're just trying to sweep this under the rug!” she hissed.

“Yeah,” Rean said with a nod. “There's something really not right here.”

Regardless, the reality clearly wasn't lost on Heinz and Marco. Both were still simmering with anger, but neither wanted to have a little chat with the provincial army, either. Two pairs of shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Good choice,” the officer said. “I'm sure you'd agree that wasting time on such shenanigans is detrimental to all involved. Think twice before causing such a ruckus again.” He turned away. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

Rean wasn't sure what irritated him more, the lack of a proper resolution to the issue, or the provincial army officer's sheer, holier-than-thou arrogance. In the end, the army's actions not only solved nothing, but may have paved the way for a more spectacular incident down the line.

“He did stop the fighting,” Alisa observed, “but didn't solve the underlying problem.”

Laura's expression practically oozed contempt. “So this is how the Kreuzen Provincial Army is conducting itself these days.”

Otto merely sighed, directing his words at Heinz and Marco. “I can understand if you're still angry about this matter, but for now you need to concentrate on staying cool-headed. Use that energy for something productive instead; trust me, you'll feel a lot better.”

Finally, the pair looked to be in agreement. The army appeared to have scared some sense into them.

“Good,” Otto said. “Now, we need to clean up this mess, or we won't be able to open at all. As late as it is, much as I hate to ask it, would you all mind lending a hand?”

Unable to just watch, Rean and the others pitched in as well. They had time to spare, and earning the goodwill of the locals was a nice bonus. He couldn't help thinking, though, how certain other Thors students, none of them members of Class VII, would have reacted to the very idea of performing manual labor.

“Thanks to the four of you, we were able to open the Grand Market without further incident,” Otto said over tea half an hour later. “There are no words for how grateful I am.”

“I'm just glad no one got hurt,” Alisa said. “That was a close one.”

“All the more reason to thank you,” Otto said gravely. “A merchant's stall is his livelihood. Any action taken against it can send him into a blind rage, as you saw today. It's very hard to come back from that.”

Laura set her cup aside. “The provincial army may have intervened, but I find it hard to believe they made no attempt to find an amicable solution.”

Otto nodded grimly. “It's more clear than ever that they have no intention of actually resolving any disputes. And unfortunately, I don't see that changing unless we accept the sales tax increase.”

Rean gritted his teeth. “Abuse of authority” did not begin to describe such behavior. Duke Albarea, it seemed, thought collecting taxes more important than actually seeing to the protection of his people. So much for noblesse oblige.

“Still, you'd think they'd be a little more subtle about it,” Alisa commented. “No way those two are just going to accept it and move on, and I honestly can't blame them.”

“It could get even worse,” Otto said. “If word gets out, certain groups might boycott the Grand Market entirely. That would have a devastating effect on our economy. Something has to be done; I'm just not sure what.”

I'm almost sure. Rean closed his eyes, thinking. The provincial army won't act—I wouldn't be surprised if they're in on it—and the people of Celdic don't have the means. That leaves. . . .

His eyes opened. “Sir, I have a favor to ask. Could you let us investigate this morning's incident?”

“What!?” Alisa yelped.

Laura regarded him with interest. “Are you suggesting we attempt to find the perpetrators ourselves?” She was not, Rean noted, dismissing the idea out of hand.

“It's a kind offer,” Otto said, “but as I said before, this is our affair, not yours. I wouldn't feel right interfering with your studies.”

Rean shook his head. “We're military students; we can't let something like this go unchallenged. The provincial army is shirking its duty, and that reflects poorly on us all.”

Elliot swallowed. “That's true, I guess, but do you really think we're up to something like this?”

“I have to wonder about it, too,” Alisa agreed. “We're really just amateurs; we should at least check in with Instructor Sara.”

“She already told us,” Rean countered. “'Put your heads together and think, and I'm sure you'll know what to do.' Her words.” He ran a hand over his messy black hair. “I'd say this is the kind of situation she was talking about.”

Alisa sat back. “Well, when you put it that way, maybe it does fall under the scope of our field study.”

“Can't hurt to try,” Elliot said.

Laura gave a slow nod. “Neither seek nor shun the fight. Very well.”

Otto looked from one to the next. “Are you sure about this? I admit to some concern about the market and the safety of our merchants. So if you are certain, I would very much appreciate any help you can provide.”

“Thank you, sir,” Rean said, inclining his head respectfully. “We'll do everything we can.”

“Just please, be careful,” Otto said. “I don't want you putting yourselves in danger over this. We're dealing with a criminal who acts under cover of night. He may be capable of more than just thievery and vandalism:

Rean touched the hilt of his sword. “We may be inexperienced, but that doesn't mean we're helpless,” he said. “Don't worry, we'll be careful.”

Despite his unease, Elliot had to admire the way Rean took charge of things. The dark-haired swordsman was quick and decisive, not hesitating for an instant once he believed he'd found the right way to go. It was confidence Elliot frankly envied.

“First things first, where to start,” Rean said. “Logically, that would be the Grand Market itself—the scene of the crime.”

“Can't argue with that,” Elliot said. “We should probably talk to those merchants first,” he added, glad to have something useful to contribute.

Laura nodded in agreement. “They've probably calmed themselves by now, so there's at least the possibility of getting something more substantial out of them. For that matter, we've yet to determine whether one of them is in fact the culprit.”

“We have to keep an eye on the time, though,” Alisa pointed out. “If we miss the last train, we won't make it back tonight. And I don't know about you, but I'd like to get the regular tasks done, too.”

Elliot shuddered at the thought. He was reasonably sure Instructor Sara would forgive them if they were late, but some of the other faculty probably wouldn't be so merciful. Especially Instructor Neithardt, he thought. He can be a pretty nice guy, but there's a reason he's practically Dad's right-hand man.

“So we need to keep moving,” Rean said. “We have until 9:00 PM; let's not waste a minute.”

On the surface, the Grand Market was back to its normal bustling self. Nevertheless, Elliot could feel tension crackling in the air, a sense of danger that refused to quite manifest. The still-visible damage to the affected stalls probably didn't help, the shopkeepers more depressed than angry now.

Rean led them to the rear of the Market first. “Excuse me,” he said to Marco, “I'm sorry to bother you, but could we have a moment of your time?”

Marco turned to face them with evident reluctance. “You're the kids from that military academy, right? What is it you want? Obviously,” he gestured morosely at the ruined stall, “I don't have anything to sell you. And even if I did, I don't have any place to sell it from. I'm basically ruined.” He all but gnashed his teeth. “And to top it off, the provincial army and that bastard from the city are acting like I did it.”

Rean seemed to tense slightly, but his tone was even as he explained what they were up to. Marco looked skeptical, but at the same time his eyes glimmered with an almost invisible light of hope.

“Got nothing else to lose,” he said with a shrug. “I left the market just after that little fight with the city merchant, and didn't come back till this morning. Stayed at a friend's place, got drunk and ranted for a while.”

“You're certain of this?” Laura asked.

Marco nodded firmly. “Positive. Ask my friend if you don't believe me. Anyway, I wandered over here this morning with one hell of a hangover, and found my stall smashed to bits. Worse yet, all the processed food I was going to sell was gone without a trace.”

“You were selling processed foods?” Alisa pressed.

Another nod. “Nuts, cheese, bacon, all foods with a long shelf life, made from local ingredients. Gotta tell you, seeing that sobered me up right quick. You guys know what happened after that.”

Rean frowned. “Why did you go right to Heinz?”

“Because he's the one who did it, of course!” Marco said as if it was obvious. “He smashed my stall so he could have the best spot all to himself!”

There was an obvious flaw in that logic. “That doesn't make sense,” Elliot objected, shaking his head. “If he did it, why was his stall smashed up, too?”

Marco blinked. “H-He must have done it himself!” Too late; Elliot had caught the hesitation, and he was sure the others had, too. “He must've figured if his was destroyed, no one would believe he was responsible!”

“Mm.” Alisa shook her head. “It seems a bit excessive.”

“I understand your frustration,” Laura put in, “but baseless accusations can only cloud the issue.”

Marco was almost visibly rocked back on his heels. “. . .I know that,” he grumbled. “It's just so frustrating; if I lose too much money from this, I'll have to close up for good! I might be able to salvage enough to stay afloat if I get my goods back, but what are the odds of that?”

No way he's guilty.

Having gotten what they could out of Marco, they made their way to the front-center stall, where Heinz was still staring despondently at the ruins of his hard work. “And to think I was ecstatic at finally being able to participate in the famous Celdic Grand Market.”

Rean cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”

Startled, Heinz spun to face them. “Y-You!” He quickly seemed to deflate. “I'm sorry . . . you had to see me like that. I hope you can forgive my inappropriate behavior.” He sighed. “So what brings you here, anyway?”

“Actually. . . .” Rean gave him the same synopsis he'd provided Marco.

“I suppose it can't hurt,” Heinz conceded.

Alisa bristled. “You don't have to sound so pessimistic.”

“Can you really blame me?” Heinz countered. “You're students at a military academy, not detectives.”

Elliot held up a placating hand. “That's true, but we still want to get to the bottom of this.”

“And we may be able to recover your goods,” Laura added. “Thus any help you can provide would be worthwhile.”

Heinz shook his head irritably. “I never said I wouldn't cooperate! I'm not sure what to say, though. I don't really know anything of importance.”

“Nothing?” Rean pressed.

Heinz shook his head again. “After making sure everything was set up for the morning, I went home. There were plenty of witnesses.” He sighed. “Leaving it unattended was clearly a mistake. By the time I got in, well, you can see the result.”

Elliot pursed his lips. “So by morning, it was all smashed up and your good stolen. What kind of goods were you selling?”

Heinz seemed to brighten just a little. “I have a sample with me, actually.” He held out what looked like some kind of bracelet, dull silver in color.

“I've seen those before,” Alisa said. “Isn't that a brand that's popular in the capital right now?”

“They're all the rage,” Heinz confirmed. “I was hoping to start a fad here by selling them in the Grand Market. But now I have just the one; I shudder to think how much money I lost in a single night. Damned coward.”

Laura folded her arms. “I understand your frustration, but it's too early to jump to conclusions. Do you have any evidence?”

“No, but he's the most logical suspect. He was so against even taking turns, I'm sure he destroyed my stall out of spite! I'll get my goods back no matter what!”

Elliot winced. “Um, you do know that'll just get you arrested by the provincial army, right?”

Much like Marco, Heinz sagged in response. “I know, but it's a matter of justice! I beg of you, get my goods back!”

“I can't promise success,” Rean said without flinching, “but we'll do everything we can.”

Leaving an understandably glum Heinz behind, Group A gathered at the entrance to the Grand Market. Aside from him and Marco, it finally seemed to be business as usual, at least for the moment. There was always the possibility of more incidents.

“That's all the victims have to say,” Rean said. “What do you guys think?”

Elliot shrugged. “I don't think Heinz or Marco are responsible.”

“It's true that both merchants have the motive,” Laura said. “But the chance of them committing the same crime on the same night without crossing paths is virtually nil.”

“It's possible they could've been out to steal each others' merchandise,” Alisa said, “but I really doubt that's what happened. They both have alibis confirming they were somewhere else at the time.”

Rean nodded. “I agree. It just doesn't make any sense for either of them to be involved. We'll have to look elsewhere for viable suspects.”

Which unfortunately left a lot of people. Celdic was small, but not that small, and the Grand Market plus the railway interchange meant quite a lot of people were coming through on a daily basis. An issue that also raised the distinct possibility that the culprit or culprits had already left town.

“We know who didn't do it,” Alisa said, “but that doesn't narrow things down very much.”

“The market is unlikely to provide further clues,” Laura agreed. “Where then do we go next?”

Rean had that thoughtful look on his face again. He seemed to be debating with himself, as if uncertain whether to speak up. “There's still one group of people involved whose actions don't make any sense,” he said at last. “The provincial army haven't done a thing to solve this, even though it happened right under their noses. If we can figure out why, we'll be one step closer to resolving the situation.”

Interest sparked in Laura's eyes. “Manager Otto said they're refusing to do their duty because of the tax issue. However, by that logic they shouldn't have intervened in the market dispute, either.”
“Then why did they come this morning?” Rean asked pointedly

“It really doesn't make sense,” Alisa said. “Sure, their methods were atrocious, but they did get involved.”

Elliot felt a jolt. “One minute they're staying away, the next they come down like a hammer. Yeah, I'd call that suspicious!”

“Exactly,” Rean said, nodding sharply. “There's something very unnatural about the way they're handling things. And since we have no other leads, I say we go to the guardhouse and take a look for ourselves.”

The people of Celdic, Elliot noticed, were giving the guardhouse as wide a berth as their own business would allow. After the way the provincial army had behaved that morning, he honestly didn't blame them. He was frankly amazed that business was proceeding at all.

“You're the students from that military academy, right?” the duty guard said when they approached. “What are you doing here?”

Despite the nervousness Elliot was sure he was feeling, Rean's tone was calm. “We're sorry to bother you, but we're wondering if you could help us with something. Could we ask a few questions about the incident in the Grand Market this morning?”

The guard paled slightly. “What does that have to do with you?” he asked, rubbing at his spiked helmet.

“We're visiting Celdic as part of a field study from Thors Military Academy,” Laura said. “As such, we would very much appreciate seeing how experienced soldiers such as yourself handle difficult everyday situations. This appears to be a perfect chance for an anecdotal study, which would be of great help to us.”

The best part of it was every word Laura had said was true. It wasn't the whole truth, granted, but Elliot somehow doubted the guard would pick up on that little detail.

Indeed, the man looked like he was trying and failing to think of a good excuse to just tell them to go away. “All right, wait here,” he said. “I'll see what I can do.”

Alisa flashed Laura an approving smirk. “Nicely done, Laura. Maybe we'll get to hear their side after all.”

“In times like these, we need to make good use of our positions,” Laura responded with a chuckle. “No one could fault students for wanting to learn.”

Rean nodded. “All right. Listen close, not just to what they say, but how they say it. And pay attention to what they don't say.”

It was a ten minute wait, long enough for Elliot to start shifting his feet restlessly. Rean and Laura appeared calm enough (Probably the sword training, Elliot thought), while Alisa seemed more bored than anything else. Eventually the door opened, revealing the same officer who'd crossed their path twice before. Likely the senior officer at the Celdic post.

“I hope you appreciate how we're taking time out of our busy schedules,” the officer said with an exaggerated sigh. “What do you want? Make it quick; I'm a busy man.”

Rean ignored the man's condescension. “I'll be brief, then. We've come to discuss the incident from this morning. Would we be correct in assuming the provincial army will be taking no further action?”

The officer snorted disdainfully. “Is that all you came to ask?”

“'Is that all'?” Laura repeated, her voice suddenly cold. “Shouldn't the armed forces, charged with maintaining peace in this region, be taking this matter more seriously?”

“You've got a big mouth for someone your age,” the officer said, shooting Laura a glare. “And you have a lot to learn about how military units actually work.”

Elliot couldn't help thinking of his father. Dad would be ripping this guy to shreds.

The officer folded his arms in clear belligerence. “Let me ask you this: what should the number one priority of the provincial army be in order to maintain the status quo? I'll tell you: to enforce the will of the region's ruling lord. As members of the provincial army, the ruling lord's will is absolute. We're just following our orders, protecting what we have a duty to protect.”

I don't see you guys “protecting” anything. If this is what Duke Albarea wants, I really don't want to know what Jusis's home life is like.

“I presume you're referring to the local petition against the sales tax increase,” Rean said in a flat tone. His voice hardened. “So you're saying that unless the petition is withdrawn, you have no 'duty to protect' the Grand Market?”

The officer sniffed. “Make of it what you will. We're soldiers. We follow our orders, that's how the military works.” His lip curled. “And we don't need some fresh cadets telling us how to do our jobs. I hope that was at least . . . enlightening for you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do.”

Elliot couldn't take it anymore. “Wait. Could you answer just one more question?”

The officer snorted again. “Fine, ask.”

Elliot cleared his throat. “Would you happen to know what happened to the goods Marco was handling? You know, the accessory merchant; he just had the one sample left.”

“What are you talking about?” the officer growled. “It was Heinz, the man from the capital, who was planning on selling accessories.”

Gotcha!

“What did you say?” Alisa asked sharply.

For a moment, it was clear the officer had no idea just what he'd let slip. “What are you all staring at?” he demanded.

“How do you know that?” Elliot asked, pressing his advantage. “I was under the impression you hadn't bothered to investigate at all.”

“That is peculiar,” Laura said, giving Elliot a quick approving look. “We only just learned ourselves what each merchant had in stock.”

The way the officer's face suddenly went pale was deeply satisfying. “W-We have our own ways of gathering information,” he stammered. “Don't underestimate us! Now, we've wasted enough time answering your questions! We're leaving!”

Well. If there was any doubt at the provincial army's complicity, that little exchange had removed it. Elliot couldn't help shaking his head in disgust. While he lacked both the desire and aptitude for proper soldiering, his background had left him with very specific ideas as to how a soldier was supposed to behave. Those provincial “army” types were not, in his opinion, proper soldiers.

“They're obviously lying,” Rean said grimly. “The fact that they know who was selling what proves they did investigate the incident after all.” He frowned. “But the burglary was last night, and only discovered this morning. I don't think that's enough time for them to do any digging without running into us.”

Laura pressed her lips together. “They clearly knew well in advance, though granted finding out would be a trivial matter, since Duke Albarea issued the permits for both stalls.”

“And it would be dead easy for the army to gain access to transaction records,” Alisa said. “But why would they bother?”

Elliot had an idea, and he really didn't like it. “Maybe they needed to know so they could prepare.”

All eyes turned to him. “Prepare for what?” Rean asked.

“I get the impression that 'incident' had been planned for some time,” Elliot said. “And I don't think those merchants getting permits for the same stall was a coincidence, either.” He closed his eyes. “I think it was done so they'd start fighting, and robbed while tensions were high. Causing a situation that couldn't be resolved without the army's help.”

Rean looked like he wanted to draw his sword. “So they were being used all along,” he bit out. “That fits a little too well.”

“And the provincial army has no intention of intervening unless the tax petition is withdrawn,” Laura said, visibly disgusted.

Alisa's lip curled. “They waited until things got out of hand, then forced everyone into an uncomfortable truce. Eventually the merchants would be worn down. Ugh.” She shook her head. “Creeps.”

“But thanks to Elliot, we have a better idea of what's going on,” Rean said. “The only way to solve this completely, though, is to find the actual thieves, and catch them.”

“I doubt anyone from the army was directly involved,” Laura said. “They're too proud for such things.”

“And they're probably not still in Celdic,” Alisa said. “Not exactly many places to hide that much stuff.”

Rean nodded. “And they wouldn't have escaped by train. Two stalls' worth of merchandise would raise questions, no doubt about it.”

“That can't have gotten far,” Elliot said. “It's been less than a day.”

“We'll ask around the main roads,” Rean said. “Maybe someone saw something unusual.”

Despite Celdic's small size, it took the better part of an hour for them to find anything truly useful. Even Laura started to show a bit of strain at the seemingly fruitless back-and-forth over an area they'd already covered a dozen times. Just when it seemed as if the thieves had escaped after all, they stumbled on a lifeline.

A young girl was sitting on a bench next to the local chapel, an apparently ill-tempered white cat at her side. “Look what that nasty man did to her,” she grumbled.

His interest piqued for reasons he couldn't define, Rean paused. “Is there a problem, miss?”

The girl sighed. “I was chasing Lulu,” she nodded at her cat, “near the west exit of town, and there was a weird man asleep right beside the road.”

“A weird man?” Alisa repeated.

“We did see a drunkard in that area earlier,” Laura noted. “Perhaps it was him.”

The girl shrugged. “Probably. The nasty smell almost made Lulu faint.”

Explained the cat's bad mood, certainly. Rean recalled a cat back home that was very sweet normally, but the slightest whiff of alcohol turned it into a snarling, hissing buzzsaw. Which was one of the reasons he usually restricted himself to green tea.

“I'll have to keep a closer eye on Lulu so she stays away from him,” the girl half-muttered.

Rean frowned. “He's not from Celdic, then?”

The girl shrugged again. “I don't know. I've only seen him around the last couple of days.”

“That sounds like a lead,” Alisa said, rubbing her chin. “If he's drinking in the middle of the day—and isn't Instructor Sara—he's no merchant, that's for sure.”

Rean nodded. “I think we should go talk to him. Thanks for your help,” he added to the girl in passing.

Their mark was, fortunately, easy to spot. A man who looked to be in his thirties, brown hair, sprawled against a fence just inside the west gate, visibly drunk out of his mind. Seeing him, Rean had to wonder if it would be physically possible to get any information.

“Drink! Bring me another drink!” The drunkard hiccuped.

You've had way too many as it is. I'm surprised you can even speak. The smell was nigh-unspeakable.

“Man, this guy reeks!” Alisa said, recoiling.

Elliot had a handkerchief over his nose. “He's already blitzed, and it's barely noon!”

“I don't think he's our man,” Rean said. “From the looks of him, I doubt he could even stand, much less pull off a double robbery like that.” He cleared his throat. “Sir, are you all right? We can help you get home, if you'd like.”

Another hiccup. “Just . . . leeme alone. I'm just a good-for-nothin' who lost his job. Lookin' after . . . nature . . . park . . . my whole life,” he slurred.

“Didn't we see Lunaria Nature Park yesterday?” Elliot said sharply. “I wonder if that's it.”

“Ooh, you kids know it?” the man groaned. “I used to be the park ranger there. Then I just lost it outta nowhere! Took my whole life, just like that! Damned official just came and said I was . . . sacked!”

Rean glanced at the gate. “Something's very wrong here.”

“Indeed,” Laura said. “It's hardly fair to take away a man's livelihood without explanation. Even for one of the Four Great Houses, that goes too far.”

The drunk sat almost upright. “Yeah . . . no way a bunch of kids are gonna do the job better than me!”

Elliot's eyes sharpened. “Kids?”

“Yeah. I was drinkin' here last night, too, and a buncha kids in ranger uniforms came through the west exit.” He took a swig. “Weird thing is, they had a buncha wooden boxes, too.”

Elliot gulped. “Could they really be. . . .?”

“The nature park never even occurred to me,” Laura said. “And it should have. Plenty of room in an out of the way area. A perfect hiding place.”

“And the men we saw there yesterday were probably lookouts,” Rean agreed, his mouth tightening.

Alisa almost hissed. “And if a provincial official told him he was fired, that's a smoking gun right there.”

“I would suggest trying to sober yourself up,” Laura said to the ex-ranger. “There's a good chance we'll be able to recover the park and your job.”

That appeared to perk him up; he rose to his feet, staggering. Rean watched him go long enough to be sure he could make it, then led the way out of town. Lunaria, if he recalled correctly, wasn't all that far. At a trot, they could make it in twenty minutes, fifteen if they pushed it.

It's time to end this.

Fifteen minutes later, they stood before the locked gate to Lunaria Nature Park. None of the probably-fake park rangers were anywhere to be found, which made Rean more sure than ever that they were on the right track. Something important was hidden in that park, and they were going to find it. Once they got the door open.

“Wonder what happened to those bossy guys we met before,” Elliot commented. “If they really are the culprits, you think they've run away already?”

“There's no way to know for certain,” Laura said. “The woodland is far too dense to intuit what lies within.”

Alisa appeared to be only half listening. “Huh?” She crouched down, grasping at something Rean couldn't see. “Take a look at this.”

It was a small metal ring, a bracelet of some kind. “How did a bracelet wind up here?” Laura wondered.

“Not just any bracelet,” Alisa said grimly. “It has the same design as the kind Heinz was planning on selling. I'm sure of it. What do you think, Laura?”

The blue-haired noble had an almost comical look of bemusement on her face. “I'm hardly qualified to comment on recent trends, but it does bear more than a few similarities.”

“There's our smoking gun,” Rean said, turning to glare at the closed gate. “Odds are good the people we're looking for are somewhere in that park.”

Laura stepped past him then, examining the gate with a critical eye. “It only opens from the inside,” she said after a moment. “It would seem there is no alternative.” She backed off a couple of paces and drew her sword.

The intent was clear. “Are you sure you'll even be able to?” Alisa asked hesitantly.

“The lock does seem solid, but my sword should be able to—”

“Hold on,” Rean said. He moved to stand next to her. “I'll do it. I can get it open more quietly.”

Laura's eyes widened, just a little. “Is that so?”

Rean nodded, and the two traded places. He could feel the others' eyes on him, Laura especially, wondering what he would do. Taking a deep breath, he drew his tachi and settled into a ready stance. Somehow, he sensed this would be a defining moment.

“The Eight Leaves One Blade school's fourth form: Autumn Leaf Cutter.” With another deep breath, Rean tucked the blade at his side, then lashed out at the diagonal.

For a seemingly endless moment, nothing happened. Then, almost gracefully, the lock fell to the ground in three neat pieces.

“Seriously!?” Alisa yelped.

“Wow!” Elliot gushed. “You sliced it apart in one swing!” He stared wide-eyed at the elegant blade. “And you say you're a beginner?”

Laura's response was calmly approving. “Spectacular,” she said. “It's an honor to bear witness to one of the skills of the Eight Leaves.”

Rean shrugged as if it wasn't that big a deal, but inwardly her praise warmed him in ways he didn't quite grasp. “We don't have much time left. Let's see if they really are inside.”

The woods and generally more uneven terrain slowed their pace, but they still had time to spare, so it wasn't as much of a problem as it could have been. Naturally they faced quite a few of the local monsters, but careful use of combat links and raw skill carved them a path with little trouble.

Rean's background served them well in the search. He'd learned from his father, an avid hunter, how to move unobtrusively through wooded areas. This allowed them to get the drop on a few of the monsters, while hopefully leaving their true targets none the wiser.

He knew they were on the right track when he almost stepped on a half-open package of processed bacon. Relieved that it hadn't attracted more monsters, he just shook his head at the waste and moved on.

Voices up ahead brought them to an abrupt (and thankfully silent) halt. Pressing his back to a rock wall, he carefully eased around the corner. Sure enough, four men in the blue-gray coveralls and caps of park rangers, with at least a dozen crates behind them. Rean's lip twisted; it was the same group from the day before.

“Heh, not bad for a night's work,” one said, a twisted grin on his face.

A second laughed harshly. “And if those idiots don't withdraw their stupid petition, we'll be able to make even more.”

“Don't get carried away,” the third man cautioned. “We get a reward for all this anyway, so I'd say we're making out pretty well.”

“Still, just who were those guys?” the fourth wondered. “The army seemed happy to go out of their way for them.”

The first man shrugged. “Eh, doesn't matter. Who knows what that guy's thinking. We just need to be ready to abandon this place at a moment's notice.”

“Too late.” Rean stepped out of concealment, sword in hand. “You're not going anywhere.”

It was deeply satisfying to see the ersatz rangers spin around in startled disbelief. “What!? How did you—it's the kids from before!”

“Don't tell me you broke in!” the apparent leader burst out. “I know I locked the gate!”

Laura smirked. “Indeed we did.”

“And it looks like all the stolen goods are here, too,” Elliot said, his tone unusually cold. “We have them red-handed.”

The leader snapped up his rifle. “Let's take them out! They're just kids; no way they'll be a match for us.” He grinned. “And since we're way out here, nobody will see a thing!”

His companions followed suit. “Hope you're ready for the beating of your lives!”

Laura sniffed disdainfully. “I highly doubt we will be the ones to endure a beating today.”

Deciding it would be a waste to allow their targets to make the first move, Rean half-crouched and lunged forward. The leader's startled exclamation became a shout of incredulous fury as Rean's tachi sliced cleanly through the barrel of his weapon. Pivoting on his left foot, Rean drove the edge of his hand into the back of the faux ranger's neck, knocking him to the dirt.

The other false rangers fared no better. Alisa, displaying almost supernatural accuracy, had put an arrow through the second man's gun, and now held him at bay with almost contemptuous ease. Elliot had incapacitated the third with an art Rean wasn't even aware he knew, while Laura's approach was simple and direct, leaving her target flat on his back.

All in all, a most satisfying end.

“H-How?” the leader groaned.

Laura shook her head. “Pitiful. That wasn't even a warm-up.”

“Well, when you're used to Instructor Sara's exercises, 'warm-up' takes on a whole new meaning,” Alisa said wryly.

Rean sheathed his sword. “Bottom line,” he said, glaring at the thieves, “we won and you know it. I'd suggest you surrender and apologize to everyone in the Grand Market for all the trouble you've caused.”

“And we'll be making sure those goods are returned to their rightful owners,” Alisa added.

“On a related note,” Laura said, “we would be very interested in learning who hired you.”

The leader tried to stand. “You must be out of your damned minds if you think you've really won!”

It seemed like empty bluster, but Elliot suddenly looked around, visibly puzzled. He put a hand up to one ear, listening for something, though Rean couldn't fathom what.

“For a second I thought I heard a flute,” he explained.

That was all the warning they had. With a bellowing roar, a huge creature came charging out of the brush north of them. Bipedal, heavily furred, with two horns on its head, it looked like some kind of giant, demonic baboon. Rean's sword was back in hand in an instant; it clearly wasn't friendly, and even the bandits didn't deserve to be mauled by such a thing.

Already his friends were back in formation, links active. Rean sidestepped a lashing arm, managed a glancing blow on its surprisingly tough hide, and moved further to the side to give Laura room for a follow-up. This, he could already tell, was even more dangerous than that gargoyle they'd faced on their first day.

A few arge away, Alisa and Elliot were mostly playing keep-away, Alisa's expert marksmanship augmented by Elliot's support abilities. They would likely be in danger if the demonic baboon managed to get in close, but thus far Rean and Laura had been able to prevent that.

He'd let himself get distracted. Something solid and heavy impacted his midsection, and the next thing he knew he was flat on his back with a very worried Elliot standing over him, ARCUS unit glowing with a healing art. Cursing himself for his carelessness, Rean struggled to his feet.

In the back of his mind, he was starting to wonder just what the ARCUS actually did; he'd been able to sense Laura's dismay without actually looking at her. Firmly, he pushed the thought aside. This was not the time for musing on technical issues.

Bleeding from a number of wounds, including at least three to the neck, the baboon creature was still refusing to go down. Laura hacked at its flank, then stepped to one side for Rean to surge past, and it wasn't enough. Alisa filled it with enough arrows for a giant pin cushion, Elliot rained death in the form of arts, and it wasn't enough.

Rean sighed. He hadn't wanted to go this far, as he wasn't sure he was quite ready, but there was little choice. Taking a deep breath, he held his sword before him, point toward the ground, and concentrated. “Flames, gather on my blade!”

The sudden burst of orange fire along the length of the weapon drew stunned looks from friend and foe alike, but Rean didn't let that distract him. With a loud shout, he charged, slashing once, twice, three times with the flaming sword. The baboon howled in agony, but with most of its hide now ablaze, the outcome was never in doubt. After a last howl, it crumpled to the ground and was still.

Just as well. An instant later they were all on their knees, shaking from exhaustion. “That was . . . kinda terrifying,” Alisa choked out.

“Indeed,” Laura said. “Still, we were able to defeat it.” She straightened. “Rean, what was that skill you performed at the end?”

Rean shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, though he doubted Laura was fooled. “Just something I've been working on for a while,” he said. “This is the first time I've been able to put it through its paces. I'm getting the hang of it, now.”

“Indeed,” Laura said with a nod. “It was most impressive.”

Elliot gaped at them. “'Impressive'!? Try amazing!”

“Yeah,” Alisa said. “You really are something, Rean. Always there to help when we need it most.”

Rean shook his head. “There's only so much I can do on my own. Without you guys, I doubt I'd have survived. This is a victory for all of us.” The others nodded in tired agreement.

The bandits, unsurprisingly, were not so sanguine. “Unbelievable,” the leader groaned. “This wasn't supposed to happen! That bastard!”

Rean lifted an eyebrow. “Just who are you talking about?”

Before any of them could answer, a shrill whistle split the air. The provincial army, it appeared, had finally decided to get involved. Unfortunately, Rean highly doubted it would be in Class VII's favor, not after the brazen stonewalling they'd run into earlier.

An instant later, they were surrounded by armed soldiers. “Hands in the air!” on barked. “Don't try to resist!”

The situation was untenable. Rean had no doubt they could take this collection of dilettantes if they had to, but it would look bad to say the least.

“Why are you surrounding us and not them?” Laura asked pointedly.

“Keep your mouth shut!”

Alisa shook her head. “I knew they were shady, but this? Utterly shameless.”

The officer in charge curled his lips. “You're jumping to an awful lot of conclusions,” he growled. “I see two groups and an awful lot of stolen goods, but no indication as to which group is responsible. Do you have any way to prove you aren't the perpetrators?”

Laura's eyes narrowed. “So you intend to frame us.”

“And you have the gall to tell us to keep our noses clean,” Rean spat.

“I'm just telling you to mind your own business and learn your place!” the officer snarled. “Kreuzen Province is the territory of Duke Albarea, and I will not have a bunch of brats poking their noses where they don't belong! Either back down now, or we drag you to Bareahard kicking and screaming!”

“I'm afraid you'll be doing no such thing,” an icy voice interrupted.

If the idea wasn't so undignified, Rean would have collapsed from sheer relief. The speaker was a woman in her twenties, trim, with light blue hair draped over one shoulder, clad in the black-trimmed gray uniform of the Railway Military Police, an elite branch of the Imperial Army. With her were three men and a woman, all in RMP gray. All were, naturally, armed.

“The Icy Maiden!” one of the provincials gulped. “What's one of the chancellor's dogs doing here!?”

The officer took a step forward. “What is the meaning of this!?” he demanded. “This area is under the Kreuzen Provincial Army's jurisdiction! The Imperial Army has no right to intervene!”

Smiling faintly, the woman shook her head. “On the contrary. Celdic is a vital junction in the Empire's railway network. As such, we have every right to investigate incidents that occur in the general vicinity. As I'm sure you're well aware.” She nodded at Rean and his friends. “And in accordance with our investigation, having questioned all parties involved, we have concluded it simply isn't possible for these students to be the culprits.” She looked him in the eye. “Do you wish to contest this judgment?”

The officer was all but gnashing his teeth, but he clearly knew he was beaten. “I suppose not.”

“Then I suggest you clear the area and allow us to do our jobs.”

“Damned Ironblood dog.” Nevertheless, the officer barked an order, and the provincials cleared out.

The bandits were visibly shaken by the whole thing. “We had a deal!” the leader protested.

Unmoved, the woman turned her cold gaze on them. “Take them into custody.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

With the bandits and provincials both gone, the female officer's demeanor was suddenly much warmer. The smile she turned on Group A was much more natural, lacking the edge she'd displayed to the provincial officer. Rean couldn't help noticing she was quite attractive.

“Thank you all very much for your assistance,” she said, inclining her head. “I'm Captain Claire Rieveldt of the Railway Military Police. You are the visiting students from Thors Military Academy, correct?” Rean nodded. “I'll need to file a report about what happened here, so would you four mind accompanying me?”

It was the kindest-phrased order Rean had ever heard, and it sure beat dealing with the provincials. He and the others followed without complaint.

Luckily for their schedule, questioning took less than an hour, and Group A was as expected cleared of all suspicion. By the end of it, Rean found himself looking forward to the train ride home just so he could get off his feet for a while. Even Laura looked like she wanted to pass out.

Claire and Manager Otto accompanied them to the station. “We're very grateful for everything you've done for us,” Otto said. “Thanks to you, all the goods have been recovered, and those responsible arrested. I can't possibly express my gratitude.”

Rean smiled tiredly. “I'm just glad we were able to help.”

“And it was only thanks to the RMP that we were able to pull it off,” Alisa said, nodding respectfully at Claire.

The RMP officer smiled. “No need to be so modest. All we did was physically arrest the criminals; the rest was entirely on you.”

“Except for the part where you got the provincial army off our backs,” Rean countered, wincing at the memory. “That was a little too close.”

“Be that as it may, I believe the credit is yours, and yours alone,” Claire said.

Laura smiled wryly. “I suppose it would be rude not to accept your thanks.”

“Indeed. Especially after I took up so much of your time; I do apologize for that.”

Alisa shook her head. “It's no trouble, especially since we were facing worse if you hadn't gotten involved.”

Claire waved a hand. “Actually, the more I think about it, the more I regret intervening at all. Overcoming such a situation may be considered part of your field study. Building character, perhaps.”

Okay, that's a bit much. If it wasn't for her, we'd be in jail or worse.

Another voice cut in. “I may be good, but I'm not that good.”

Sara Valestein came sauntering down the station steps. She was smiling, but Rean felt a sudden chill; nothing hostile, more a sense of the awkward. He had the distinct impression his instructor wasn't overly fond of their RMP rescuer.

“It's been a while, Sara,” Claire said, smiling politely.

“Six months, give or take,” Sara replied. “Really, I had no idea you RMP folks would get involved.” Her eyes narrowed. “I suppose you had this figured out all along?”

Claire shook her head. “You overestimate me. I received a report there might be trouble here, nothing more.”

“From your 'brother,' right?” Sara said with a raised eyebrow. “Nothing gets by you lot.”

“We're just making sure we're prepared for any situation that might arise,” Claire said, shrugging. “That said, I'm afraid I have a lot to do, so I'll be taking my leave.” She saluted. “I wish all of Class VII the best.”

Sara's expression was unreadable, but she banished whatever misgivings she might have had with a shake of her head. “I think it's time we got going, too.”

“Give my regards to Principal Vandyck,” Otto said, waving.

Rean had seldom been so glad to get off his feet. They'd only been in Celdic for a couple of days, true, but those days had been intense. More so than intended, if Instructor Sara was to be believed (and Rean wasn't entirely sure he did). All in all, though, he was glad of it. They'd made a genuine difference, and learned a lot in the process.

As before, Sara sat across the aisle from them. “Asleep again,” Elliot said, rolling his eyes.

“Could she be faking it?” Alisa wondered. “I wouldn't put it past her.”

Laura shook her head minutely. “Judging by her breathing, she is truly asleep.”

“She needs it,” Rean said. “From what I've heard, Group B was a complete disaster, no mystery as to why. If she had to deal with that and come back to fetch us, it's no wonder she's totally spent.”

“Good point,” Alisa said with a slight wince. “Anyone would be exhausted trying to sort that out.”

Elliot chuckled. “Even if it is hard to imagine her really working, considering her usual attitude. Not that she's the only oddball at Thors.”

“She's got nothing on Instructor Thomas for sheer weirdness,” Alisa agreed. “Well, almost nothing,” she amended.

“And she does seem to be genuinely looking out for us,” Laura said.

Rean leaned back in his seat, watching the darkened countryside zip past. “So ends our first field study, huh. I think I'm starting to figure out what's going on.”

“Me, too,” Alisa said. “Sure, testing the ARCUS is a big deal, but it's not the only reason. I think it's more about making sure we see what's going on with our own eyes.”

Elliot perked up. “Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Learning more about places in Erebonia we've only read about in books, and seeing the issues firsthand, just like in Celdic.”

Laura nodded. “And just as we thought and acted swiftly in a crisis there, we may well be called upon to do so again. These field studies may well be meant to test and cultivate those skills, in preparation for our futures.”

“Exactly,” Rean said. “Add to that good judgment, decisiveness, and general conduct, and I'd say we have a pretty clear picture of what this is all about. Essentially, we're training everywhere we go.”

“Well, you're about half right.”

Even Laura jumped at the interjection. “I was sure you were sound asleep.”

Sara waved a hand airily. “Eh, I can nod off and on in the blink of an eye. It's what I do. Anyway, as you rightly noted, having firsthand knowledge of areas to which you might be deployed is of tremendous importance. As is the ability to think on your feet, and make quick judgments with or without orders. That's a major part of why you're undertaking these field studies.”

Alisa pursed her lips. “It's an interesting approach, but I've never heard of any other military academy trying it.”

“You say we're half right,” Laura said, eying the instructor curiously. “Which begs the question, what is the other half?”

Sara didn't answer at first, instead looking at Rean with an odd intensity, as if she could read his mind. “Is something wrong?”

I wouldn't be surprised if she can read minds. “Not really, no,” he said. “I was just thinking about what we did in Celdic and why.” His eyes narrowed. “The whole concept was eerily similar to the M.O. of bracers.”

He had to force himself not to grin in triumph, having for the first time genuinely startled his instructor. “Now that you mention it, it does seem similar,” Alisa mused.

“Indeed,” Laura said. “The Bracer Guild prides itself on protecting civilians above all else, so it seems an unusual source of inspiration for a military academy.”

“It makes sense, though,” Elliot said. “Their emblem is a bracer gauntlet, and that's pretty much what we've been for these people. Bracers have branches all over the continent, but you hardly ever see them in Erebonia anymore.”

They looked at Sara, who had already covered her surprise. “Eh, you got me! Which means. . . .” Apparently it meant nothing, as she was asleep an instant later.

Elliot shook his head in mock despair. “Well, whether we 'got her' or not, it's pretty clear our activities are related to the bracers in some way.”

“Not that Instructor Sara is likely to come clean anytime soon,” Laura said. “Which means all we can do is prepare ourselves in body and mind for the next field study.”

“Come clean.” Sara's not the only one keeping secrets here.

“Is there something else bothering you?” Elliot asked.

Now or never. “Not exactly,” Rean said, shaking his head. “It's just that, we've been in the same class for a month now. And this whole time I've been, well, keeping you in the dark.”

Elliot tilted his head. “About what?”

“From your tone, I take it you aren't talking about the issue with your swordsmanship,” Laura said.

Rean took a deep breath. “No, it's about something I've been hiding from you all this time, about my social class.”

Alisa's eyes widened. “Are you saying your family's. . . .”

“That's right,” Rean said with a nod. “I dodged the question when Machias asked, but technically I come from a family of nobles. As I've mentioned, I'm from Ymir in the northern mountains. I'm the son of its ruler, Baron Teo Schwarzer.”

Elliot and Alisa gaped at him. Laura, by contrast, simply nodded, with the air of someone finally putting the pieces together. “Now I understand,” she said. “House Schwarzer, rulers of the Ymir region, with close ties to the Imperial family despite being headed by a mere baron. The discrepancy had me puzzled, but now it all falls into place.”

Rean frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I recognized your name when we first met at school,” Laura said. “More, I recognized you, yet you seemed different in ways I could not explain. Now I see why.” She sat forward, an unusually earnest look on her face. “It was seven years ago, Rean. My father traveled to Ymir to meet with Baron Schwarzer for discussions regarding trade routes, if memory serves. He encouraged me to acquaint myself with the area, and the Baron's charming son was kind enough to show me around.”

Images exploded in Rean's mind as things finally clicked. A tall, distinguished man in blue, carrying the largest sword Rean had ever seen. The Viscount had been a very imposing presence, but his eyes were kind. And with him, a girl of ten years with deep blue hair, looking around her with golden eyes alight with curiosity.

“So that's it,” Rean said. “I remember you seemed familiar when I saw you at the school gate, but I just couldn't figure out why. And then you kept giving me odd looks; didn't seem hostile, but it got kinda disconcerting at times.”

“I understand, and I apologize for any discomfort,” Laura said. “I was simply trying to resolve the inconsistencies, notably the change in your sword style, and the fact that you didn't seem to recognize me.”

Rean grimaced. “That part, well, let's just say something really bad happened a couple years after your visit. It's why I chose to study the Eight Leaves, and probably why I didn't remember you. I'm . . . not ready to talk about that yet.”

“I understand,” Laura said again. “That aside, I trust you will tell the others what you just told us?”

“Of course,” Rean said with a firm nod. “No more secrets, even if,” he smiled ruefully, “Machias will probably want to kill me.”

“It will subside with time,” Laura said. She smiled. “And may I say, it is a pleasure to renew your acquaintance, Lord Rean.”

Rean groaned, his face sinking into his hands. “Please, don't call me that,” he said, ignoring Alisa and Elliot's laughter. “Nobody calls me 'Lord' except one of the waitresses at the Valley's Echo tavern. Even one of the local kids calls my dad 'Mister Baron.' Pretty much the only way you can tell we're nobles is we have a big house. My mother even does most of the cooking.”

Still and all, it was a great relief to let it out. He wasn't looking forward to Machias's likely reaction, but as Laura had said, it would pass. Their time at Thors had barely begun, so ups and downs were to be expected. In the end, cliché though it sounded, they would all be stronger for it.

“Thanks, all of you,” he said. “And Laura, I'm sorry I forgot you.”

She waved it away, still smiling. “No apologies necessary. Such things happen.”

None of them noticed Sara crack one eye open, a satisfied smile on her face.

Chapter Text

Two days after the return from Celdic, Rean was called into the faculty office for a private talk with Instructor Sara. Though wary of her foibles, he wasn't expecting a scolding at least. Group A had received high marks for their handling of the situation in Celdic, despite offending the local provincial army commander.

Unlike Group B. Rean hadn't heard many details, but the look on Emma's face had spoken volumes. She, Gaius, and Fie had done their best, but as anyone who knew them could have predicted Jusis and Machias had dragged them down like a lead boat anchor. Rean was torn; on the one hand, he wished he could have helped, on the other, he was just as glad not to have witnessed the debacle.

Aside from Sara, the only person in the office was Vice-Principal Heinrich, a man Rean went out of his way to avoid. A baron from Sutherland Province, he had criticized Rean for performing “menial” tasks on behalf of the Student Council, saying Rean should be more aware of his status.

“Ah, Rean, glad you could make it,” Sara said. “Have a seat.”

Rean offered a lopsided smile. “I couldn't exactly refuse my homeroom teacher,” he pointed out, settling in the indicated chair.

“True, but you didn't complain about it. That counts for something.” Sara tucked away what looked like a report of some kind. “Now, since I'm sure you're just burning with curiosity, I'll get to the point. I wanted to talk to you about the ARCUS links.”

It was a start, at least. “They worked out pretty well,” he said. “There were a couple of big fights I don't think we'd have won without them.”

Sara nodded. “I saw that in your reports. Excellent use of combat links, especially you and Laura.” She smiled. “In fact, that's a good lead in for what I wanted to discuss. How did it feel, Rean, to link with your classmates?”

Taken aback, Rean frowned. “I don't think I understand the question.”

“Let's look at it another way.” Sara folded her hands, looking almost serious for once. “The ARCUS link doesn't involve mind-reading, but it does give you a sense of your partner's condition. Does that help any?”

Rean closed his eyes, thinking. Put that way, it made sense. A lot of sense, really, though he still couldn't quite describe the sensation. Like something was part of him, and yet not. A very clear sense that he wasn't alone. The feeling of being part of a cohesive whole.

“Strange,” he said at last, not ready to articulate his musings. “But not in a bad way. Almost comforting, kinda.” He flushed at the look on Sara's face. “Not like that,” he said, knowing exactly where she was headed.

Sara laughed. “You sure this doesn't mean you've met your soul mate?” She sobered . . . a little. “According to the specs Reinford sent us, combat link compatibility is just as variable as the ability to use the ARCUS at all. In other words, some combinations work better than others, ranked on a scale of one to one hundred.”

“It did seem to vary in intensity,” Rean conceded.

“Right,” Sara said. “So far, you've linked with four of your classmates. Your rating with Gaius is seventy-three, definitely solid. Elliot managed a seventy-two, still respectable. Alisa is a seventy-five.” She paused. “Your link compatibility with Laura is ninety-eight.”

Rean almost fell out of his chair. The connection with Laura had certainly felt stronger, but twenty-three points higher than the next one? “You're kidding. I mean, linking with Laura felt different, yeah, but that big a gap? Is that even possible?”

Sara shrugged. “There's always the chance of a reading being off, so we'll be contacting Reinford for a second opinion. Personally, though, I think it's probably accurate. All the reports agree, your performance was smoothest while linked with Laura.” She tried—and failed—to look stern. “Now don't go thinking that gets you out of testing with the rest of the class. You two won't always be in the same group, after all.”

Exasperated, Rean rubbed his temples. “Yeah, I kinda knew that. One question, why tell me this?”

Sara tapped a folder. “Like I said before, you've wound up at the center of Class VII. More than that, what happened in Celdic tells me you've got a lot of leadership potential.”

It was like she was talking about someone else. Rean knew his way around a blade, certainly, but a leader? “I just did what I had to do,” he said. “I don't see how that makes me a leader.”

“The best of them don't,” Sara said with that annoyingly mysterious smile of hers. “Don't worry too much about it. You're still just starting out, so you've got plenty of time to work things out. For now, study hard, and enjoy your time here at Thors. You've already made some new friends.”

“And at least one enemy,” Rean muttered, his ears burning. He'd known Machias would be upset at the revelation of his family ties, but it still rankled.

Sara waved a hand. “Oh, don't worry about it. Machias will cool down eventually. If nothing else, Jusis will distract him sooner or later.”

Not exactly how Rean would have preferred things. Sure, Jusis would be a distraction, but for how long? And perhaps more importantly, how much would they destroy in the process? The Parm field study had been bad enough, and there was no sign either had learned anything from it.

“One more thing,” Sara said into his thoughts. “I'd like you to keep this to yourself for the time being. Don't worry, the others will be let in on the secret soon enough, but for now it's best if Class VII's most level-headed member is the only one in the know. Avoids too many complications.”

Like Jusis and Machias finding out they actually have a high rating? Rean thought before he could stop himself. “I understand,” he said. “Is there anything else?”

“Nope,” Sara said. “You're free for the rest of the day; I'm guessing you want to get some studying in.”

“That, and maybe take a walk, clear my head,” Rean agreed, standing. “I think I really need it right now.”

Sara laughed. “Believe me, Rean, I understand completely. Just make sure you're back by curfew; you know the drill.”

“I will.” Rean inclined his head respectfully. “If you'll excuse me.”

After the disaster of the Parm field study, Gaius found refuge in his painting. It was a pity, really; Parm was a beautiful place, and under other circumstances he would have enjoyed his stay. That, sadly, was not to be; the local issues combined with Jusis and Machias's constant bickering had largely soured the experience.

Not that he had anything against either of them. Quite the contrary, he thought both were shining examples of Imperial citizenry. Jusis, for all his occasional stuffiness, was everything Gaius had heard an Erebonian noble was supposed to be, and Machias was a solid young man despite his temper issues.

Now if only they could get along. Gaius gave the Class VII dorm a long look, then dipped his brush in paint. The old building had a certain charm to it.

“Whoops!” There was a yelp and a brief clatter behind him. “Sorry, Gaius. Didn't mean to disturb you.”

Gaius smiled. “I know better than to expect to not be disturbed outside, even in a place as quiet as Trista,” he said. “Do you need any help?”

Elliot shook his head, scooping up what looked like a stand for sheet music. “Nah, it's fine. I just tripped is all.” He glanced at the canvas. “A picture of the dorm?”

“That's what it's going to be,” Gaius acknowledged. “I want to be able to remember my second home when I return to the Highlands.”

“Second home, huh? As an Erebonian, I guess I should take that as a compliment,” Elliot said with a light laugh.

Gaius concentrated on a bit of detail work before replying. “You should, since you and the others are a big part of why.”

Elliot raised his eyebrows. “You're not upset that Rean hid his family background?”

“Not at all,” Gaius said. “After Machias's open hostility toward the aristocracy, it's understandable that he would want to keep it under wraps.” He shrugged. “Rean is Rean, noble or otherwise.”

“Can't argue with that.” Elliot settled on a nearby bench. “I think we got pretty lucky, though; just about all the nice nobles wound up in Class VII.”

Gaius tilted his head. “I take it most Erebonian nobles are less sociable?”

His classmate grimaced. “If ninety percent of Classes I and II walked off a cliff, I wouldn't miss them,” he said, his tone unusually harsh. “They think they're so much better than the rest of us just because of their birth.”

Hearing such vitriol from a normally soft-spoken individual like Elliot Craig was startling, to say the least. “Surely they can't all be like that.”

“I guess not.” Elliot shrugged. “Rean told me about a guy with the Fishing Club who seems friendly enough, and there's a girl with the Wind Orchestra who's pretty easygoing.”

“Then I'd suggest you at least keep an open mind,” Gaius said, turning back to his paining. “Does the orchestra have any performances planned?”

Elliot shook his head. “I honestly don't know. Practice is open to anyone who wants to observe, though.”

Gaius smiled. “I'll stop by if I have time.”

As had become his habit, Rean took a leisurely stroll through Trista on his way back to the dorm. He needed it more than usual, after that little discussion about combat links. The way Instructor Sara had phrased things brought up issues he really wasn't ready to deal with.

He exchanged a nod with Gaius just as the latter was exiting the local chapel. No surprise there; Gaius Worzel was easily the most devout individual he'd met who wasn't actually employed by the church. Music drifting out admittedly suggested an ulterior motive, probably the Wind Orchestra practicing.

As Rean passed the bookstore, he caught a wave from Alisa. Smiling, he waved back, still amazed at how far they'd come since that awkward first day. He supposed it beat the alternative, especially with Machias unhappy with him. That was something else he needed to deal with.

“Hey, there, Lord Rean.”

Rean stopped in his tracks, startled at the use of his title. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't quite put a name to it. Wait, that guy!?

A silver-haired second year was lounging at one of the outside tables at the local cafe. “Been a while,” he greeted. “Hear your first field study went pretty well.”

“If you don't count offending the local provincial army detachment, yeah,” Rean said, sitting across from the older student. “And just how do you know I'm a noble?”

The other shrugged easily. “Kinda spread when you let the rest of your class know. I could hear Regnitz from fifty selge away.”

Rean grimaced. He doubted that was going to smooth over anytime soon. “Okay, point taken,” he said. “So, since you know I'm a minor noble from the middle of nowhere, mind telling me your name?”

The second year grinned. “Crow Armbrust,” he said. “I was part of the, guess you could call it the prototype for Class VII last year. So I've got a good idea of what you've been slogging through.”

Rean lifted an eyebrow. “That reminds me, what happened to that fifty mira?”

To his immense annoyance, Crow smirked. “Sure, you want it back. Wouldn't it be better if you earned it? How do you think I pulled it off?”

Rean closed his eyes, thinking. Both of Crow's hands had been empty, and the coin hadn't hit the ground. “. . .You were carrying a drawstring bag,” he said. “You set it down at your feet before the coin flip.”

“Hey, not bad.” Crow dug in a pocket, and his face fell. “Whoops. Sorry. I've only got ten on me.”

Sighing, Rean waved a hand. “Never mind. You said you were involved in a prototype for Class VII?”

Crow sipped his drink before answering. “Yep. Tested the ARCUS units, went on a couple field studies, got a feel for how the whole thing was going to work, worked the kinks out, you get the idea.” He grinned. “So, is it as crazy as we figured it'd be?”

“Considering Instructor Sara literally dropped the floor out from under us on our first day, yeah,” Rean groaned. “Not to mention she's got me doing busywork for the Student Council on top of everything else.”

“Heard about that one. Towa and I go way back,” Crow explained at Rean's surprised look. “Okay, not way back,” he conceded. “We just kinda hung around a lot during our first year. By the way, you play Blade/”

Rean blinked at the non sequitur. “Huh? I've tried it a couple times,” he allowed. “Not all that much; it's not really that big in Ymir.”

“Good enough.” Crow produced a deck from his jacket pocket. “Up for a match? Been looking for new opponents, but I haven't had much luck.”

Why not. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. “You're on,” Rean said.

The next hour was spent squaring off at the highly strategic card game. Despite his lack of experience, Rean's analytical mind served him well, and soon visibly unnerved Crow, who was evidently anticipating an easy mark. Disabusing him of that notion was almost as fun as the game itself.

“Damn, you learn fast,” Crow said, wiping his brow. “You sure you've only played a couple of times?”

Rean couldn't help smirking. “A strategic mind is a prerequisite for Class VII,” he said. “You think I'd have gotten through Celdic otherwise?”

Some of Crow's poise seemed to return. “Okay, you've got me there. Y'know, you took me by surprise there, but I haven't had that much fun with it in a long time. Up for another round sometime?”

Pushing his chair back, Rean shrugged. “Why not. Be a nice break while I'm playing Student Council errand boy.”

“I'll be looking forward to it,” Crow said, also standing. “Well, I've got places to be and people to see.”

Rean snorted. “More like people to fleece,” he retorted mildly, to which Crow grinned in acknowledgment. “Later.”

Not quite ready to return to the dorm, Rean ducked into the cafe. Seated alone at one table was Jusis Albarea, who offered a courteous if reserved nod of greeting. Rean returned it, before ordering tea and finding himself a corner seat. The cafe, he had already found, was one of his favorite parts of Trista.

So engrossed was he in his own thoughts that at first he didn't notice the shadow that fell over him. “Am I disturbing you, Rean?”

He looked up, a bit surprised, but not at all displeased. “Laura? Not at all; I was just killing time before curfew.”

“With some help from Thors' most famous delinquent,” Laura said, sitting across from him. “One of his classmates is in the Swimming Club, and he informs me Crow Armbrust is an incorrigible gambler who sleeps through class at least half the time. As such, his academics have suffered; on the other hand, he is highly skilled at more practical subjects such as first aid, and is an expert pistoleer.”

Rean rolled his eyes. “Gambler, why am I not surprised. Kinda envy him the pistol skills, though; I can barely hit a target the size of that gargoyle we fought at point-blank range.”

“Nor can I,” Laura admitted. “Alisa and Fie are more the class marksmen. But I'm digressing.” She leaned forward. “You should know that I wrote to my father about your revelation after our first field study.”

Hardly a surprise. There was no reason to hide it, and Rean had already gotten the impression that Laura was very much “daddy's girl.” Not that he would ever dare say it out loud. “Have you heard back?”

She nodded. “Indeed I have. In addition to the normal well-wishes for your family, Father is pleased to hear you elected to enroll at Thors, saying he would expect nothing less from one of your stature.” Her mouth quirked at that. “Naturally, he is also intrigued that you have chosen to follow the Eight Leaves.”

Of course. If there was anything guaranteed to get the Radiant Blademaster's attention, it was the news that his daughter was going to school with a practitioner of one of the most exotic sword styles in existence. Rean's feelings on the matter were decidedly mixed. On the one hand, catching the eye of Victor S. Arseid was more than a little intimidating. On the other, it was quite flattering to have the interest of the greatest swordsman in the Empire.

“Was there anything else?” he asked when Laura paused. “If it's not too private,” he amended.

Laura's lip twisted in what looked like a mixture of humor and embarrassment. “He is happy you and I have become friends,” she said. “Father has long been concerned about my relative isolation, which I think is part of why he readily acceded to my attending Thors rather than an institution such as Saint Astraia. He was hoping I would meet a kindred spirit.”

Rean chuckled. “He got his wish, then. And personally, I'm glad you came here. You're a good friend, and handy to have around in a fight.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Laura said with a smile. “And speaking of combat, are you going to be venturing into the old schoolhouse on our next free day?”

“Probably,” Rean said. “The impression I got from Instructor Sara and Principal Vandyck is that it's going to be a long-term project.”

Laura nodded. “In that case, I will make sure to leave an opening in my schedule. I would like to see the building's underlevels for myself.”

Rean smiled. “You'll be the first one I call.”

I. Hate. Paperwork.

That was the worst part of being an instructor at Thors, the damned paperwork. Making reports to the Guild after a mission was irksome at times, but at least reasonably straightforward. Here, she had to grade papers, evaluate combat appraisals, and submit reports of her own to Principal Vandyck and the Board of Directors, usually in triplicate.

It was enough to drive her to drink, or would have been if she didn't drink like a fish anyway.

Long story short, Sara Valestein was bored. Oh, she'd enjoyed tweaking Rean about his high compatibility rating with Laura Arseid (and was only half joking about soul mates, after seeing the way those two interacted), but it had been nothing but a momentary diversion.

The phone chose that moment to ring. Simultaneously annoyed and glad at the interruption, Sara picked up the receiver. “Valestein.”

Annoyance quickly overrode any relief. “Ah, my dear Instructor, you sound tired. Shall I treat you to one of my special ballads?”

Stifling a groan, Sara kept a firm hold on her temper. “Scharazard warned me about your antics, Your Highness,” she said. “Nice try, but I'm not that desperate.”

“Ah, such a pity. I suppose I'll be spending the evening alone.” The voice might have sobered, though with him it was hard to tell. “In all seriousness, I wanted to hear how our little experiment was progressing.”

Sara scrawled her signature on one last report before replying. “Lot of growing pains, but we knew that going in. It's looking promising, at least.”

“Excellent,” the prince said. “After seeing them display such courage and skill against that gargoyle, I knew we had found what we were looking for. Especially the boy with the tachi; someone skilled in the Eight Leaves is a great asset indeed.”

Sara's eyebrows went up. “You could tell that at a glance?”

The prince chuckled. “Instructor, I know Cassius Bright personally. The Eight Leaves is a very distinctive style; even a non-swordsman like myself can tell that much.”

“I'll take your word for it,” Sara said. “That aside, you're right about Rean. He's smart, a skilled fighter—I bet you anything he reaches Divine Blade level in the next five years—a natural leader, and cool under pressure, even when that pressure is from officialdom.”

There was a grunt that sounded mildly amused. “Yes, I heard about the unpleasantness in Celdic. Duke Albarea was in Heimdallr to complain, not that he had a leg to stand on. Young Lord Schwarzer must have nerves of steel to stand up to one of the Four Great Houses, even at one remove.”

Sara couldn't help laughing. “Don't let him hear you say that. Being called by his noble title makes Rean really antsy. He'd rather just be one of the guys.”

“I'll remember that.” Which could mean any number of things, good and bad. Knowing the prince, it could go either way, or even both at once. “Thank you for your time, Instructor. I shall leave you to your paperwork.”

Rolling her eyes, Sara looked at what little she had remaining. Just the field study assignments, thank Aidios. “Paperwork, the Debauched Prince acts like I should be enjoying it,” she muttered. Banishing the thought from her mind, she returned to the task at hand.

After the near-disaster in Parm, she'd though long and hard about who to send where. In the end, she saw little choice. Jusis and Machias need to get past that grudge match of theirs. Stick Rean with them, maybe he can smooth things over a little. Wincing at what she was going to be putting her Wunderkind through in just a couple of weeks, Sara sighed. Hopefully he can at least get Fie to come out of her shell a little. As for those two, either they'll learn to work together, or they'll kill each other.

Right now, I don't really care which.

Late May. The lino flowers had faded, replaced by the lush greenery of late spring. A fresh breeze stirred Rean's hair as he walked to school, Laura and Elliot flanking him. His conflict with Machias aside, life was for the moment pretty good. Trista was definitely his favorite place in the Empire outside Ymir.

This despite the fact that both academics and combat training were growing more demanding by the day. Rean had written more essays in the last two weeks than in years of Sunday School. Geography and history weren't so bad, at least, and for the most part combat training was right up his alley. With the notable (and embarrassing) exception of orbal firearms.

Military science, he had already decided, was a fascinating subject. Rean wasn't an academic like Emma or Machias, but he'd always had a thirst for knowledge, and military science was vital to the Empire. Especially with the so-called “Republic” of Calvard a constant threat.

Their instructor for this period was also an active-duty army officer. Major Neithardt was a senior officer in the Fourth Armored Division. Tall, blond, and blue-eyed, clad in a dark purple army uniform, the young man was the perfect image of an Imperial soldier. He was also, if Rean was any judge, a highly skilled swordsman, probably of the Vander school.

“The Orbal Revolution of fifty years ago changed the way wars are fought forever,” Neithardt was saying. His voice was smooth and clear, and a bit intimidating. “There are a number of reasons for this, but I would argue four factors in particular stand out. First, the invention of orbal guns, cannons, and other such weaponry. The increased accuracy of these weapons, as well as their ease of manufacture and maintenance, instantly rendered all other firearms obsolete.”

In the corner of his eye, Rean saw Fie looking genuinely attentive for the first time since they'd met. Not that much of a surprise, given her weapon of choice, but still unusual.

“The second factor is the mechanization of the military,” Neithardt went on. “Orbal technology led to the formation of armored divisions made up of tanks and armored cars. The impact this new kind of tactical unit had on the battlefield, with its enhanced offense, defense, and mobility, cannot be overstated.”

Fairly obvious, that. A line of orbal tanks rumbling in your direction was a major incentive to surrender while you still could, and the Fourth Armored Division had a particularly fearsome reputation. The Empire's elite, which even Calvard hesitated to engage directly.

“The third factor is the invention of airships,” Neithardt said. “Warships that rely on the gravity manipulation ability of a flight field to remain in the air simply did not exist before the revolution. The sudden addition of a whole new dimension to war—the sky—made countless new strategies viable that were previously unimaginable.”

Rean knew little of airships, though he'd always wanted to ride in one. Maybe his studies at Thors would give him the opportunity.

“And perhaps most important of all, the creation of an entirely new field of practical science. Without orbal technology, such a concept would have been almost inconceivable, but today, we'd be virtually crippled without it.” He paused. “Rean Schwarzer, can you tell the class what this new breakthrough was.”

Too easy. “Orbal communications.”

Neithardt gave an approving nod. “Correct. The answer is orbal communications, a form of wireless communications based on formless transmissions through orbal waves. This allows officers in the field to obtain pertinent information in real time, leading to precise, accurate troop movements.” He smiled thinly. “Of course, countermeasures have been developed such as jamming and wiretapping. Nevertheless. . . .”

“Well done,” Alisa whispered from his left. “This is some pretty high-level stuff, I know the basics, of course, but I've never heard it explained in this kind of detail.”

Rean suppressed a grimace. “We'll have to work really hard to keep up.”

Orbal computers were still a fairly recent technology. Already commonplace or nearly so in Crossbell State, they were only within the last couple of years filtering into the Empire and the neighboring Kingdom of Liberl in any real numbers. Rean himself had encountered the fancy devices exactly twice, both times during visits to Roer.

Fortunately, the computers used at Thors were very user-friendly. Rean found himself picking up most of the nuances with little trouble, more easily than (he couldn't help noticing) quite a few of his peers in Classes I and II. It made him wonder.

“I think I'm getting the hang of this,” he commented. “Finally.”

Looking over Rean's shoulder, Gaius nodded. “Likewise. It was difficult at first, but now the procedure is beginning to make sense.”

Elliot grimaced. “It is cutting edge technology here in Erebonia,” he pointed out. “Most people are probably confused until they get used to it. Didn't take long for Machias and Jusis, though.”

Rean covered a wince, seeing Machias seated two desks ahead. “Yeah, but academics are their thing,” he pointed out. “And I'm pretty sure Machias has been interested in computers for a long time.”

“Jusis just picks up stuff like it's natural, even if he's not interested,” Elliot conceded. “Which is probably adding insult to injury for Machias.”

Rean snorted. “I'll just bet,” he said, looking up at Gaius. “I hear they were really butting heads in last month's field study.”

It was the exchange student's turn to grimace. “'Butting heads' is an understatement. Things almost took a violent turn; we were able to hold them back, but I don't think we could have kept it up if Instructor Sara hadn't appeared.”

Elliot sighed. “What are we supposed to do with those two?”

“I wish I knew,” Rean said. “This has gone on far too long. Whatever their issues, it needs to stop before it gets someone hurt. Or worse.”

Unfortunately, there was a limit to what he could do. Machias was barely speaking to him these days, and while Rean didn't blame the other student one bit, it made things more awkward still. Rean had briefly considered asking Laura to look into it, since she was the one noble for whom Machias showed any respect, but quickly discarded the idea. There was already talk (premature, in Rean's firm opinion) of Laura and Rean since their return from Celdic, which meant Machias would in all likelihood dismiss anything she had to say.

“Rean Schwarzer.”

The voice was young, male, familiar, and practically oozed arrogance. Rean found himself meeting the haughty gaze of the same noble who had given him and Elliot grief the month before. Fighting a surge of irritation, he searched his memory for the upper-class student's name.

“You're . . . Patrick, right?”

“Indeed.” Patrick folded his arms, looking insufferably smug. “My full name is Patrick T. Hyarms. I don't believe I need say more than that.”

No kidding. Rean suppressed a grimace of distaste. House Hyarms, one of the Four Great Houses (albeit lower in rank than House Albarea, headed as it was by a marquis), rulers of a domain nearly as large as Kreuzen Province. Infamous among the mid to lower-ranked nobility for being haughty and obstreperous.

Gaius glanced at Rean. “I take it he's from a prestigious family?”

“Prestigious doesn't even come close,” Elliot said, taking a half step back. “They're one of the Four Great Houses, like Jusis's family. Doesn't get much higher than that.”

Patrick shot the musician a glare. “I didn't come here to speak with commoners or,” a disdainful glance at Gaius, “foreigners.” Again with that smug smirk. “I came to bring gladsome tidings to you, Rean Schwarzer.”

Rean kept a firm hold on his temper. How this dilettante irritated him. “”What kind of 'tidings'?” he asked, forcing a neutral tone.

“I am generously extending you welcome,” Patrick said, “to make use of the accommodations on the third floor of the Student Union building.”

Rean had a good idea where this was going. “The nobles' salon?”

“Indeed,” Patrick said with a note of condescending approval. “Your father may be a mere baron, but that still makes you a noble. And though you've had the misfortune of sharing a class with this . . . riffraff. . . .”

Rean fought a sudden urge to draw steel.

“. . . .I have decided to use my good name as a member of the Hyarms family to afford you the privilege of joining us,” Patrick finished. He smiled thinly. “I do hope you appreciate it.”
Appreciation was just about the farthest thing from Rean's mind, actually. The last thing he wanted right then was to spend more time with his fellow aristocrats. Aside from the likes of Kenneth Lakelord, the only other noble with whom he felt particularly comfortable was Laura Arseid, and despite her high bearing she was hardly a typical noble.

Not that he could tell Patrick that. Antagonizing a member of a Great House without reason was rarely as good move. Before Rean could think of how to turn him down, though, another voice interjected. “This hardly seems the place to be recruiting new members.”

Patrick flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment Rean could not tell. “Jusis Albarea!?”

Jusis was standing an arge or so away, giving the other noble a more poisonous look than he'd ever leveled even at Machias. “I wasn't aware the third son of the Hyarms family counted playing factions among his hobbies.” Though his face was expressionless, there was a definite sneer in his voice. “If you wished for company in the salon, should you not have come to me first?”

Patrick hissed. “You!? You've been invited countless times, but have simply chosen not to come! Despite there being no shortage of second years practically begging for your company.”

Wrong thing to say, Patrick. While Jusis's expression didn't change, his eyes were suddenly much colder. “I have no interest.”

“Suit yourself, then,” Patrick said with an annoyed grunt, before turning back to Rean. “But you, Schwarzer! Make sure you think long and hard about this. If you care about your future, you need to start thinking about the connections you're making, and the sides you're taking.”

Enough was enough. “I don't choose my friends based on social class,” Rean said coldly. “As for connections, I'd say making friends with the daughter of the Radiant Blademaster is a good start, wouldn't you?”

From the look on Patrick's face, he wanted desperately to come up with a cutting retort, but was unable to think of one. At a loss, he sniffed, shot one last glare at Jusis followed by a look of utter disdain at Gaius and Elliot, and stalked away, head held high.

“Finally,” Rean muttered. “I couldn't figure out how to turn him down. Thanks, Jusis.”

The other noble grunted. “I wasn't trying to help you. Still, I did cause some . . . trouble during our field study, so. . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

Elliot watched him go, his eyebrows practically climbing into his hairline. “The field study? Is he talking about. . .?”

“Our run-in with the Kreuzen Provincial Army,” Rean said with a nod.

Gaius hummed to himself thoughtfully. “So he feels he bears some responsibility for his family's actions. I suppose this is his way of apologizing.”

Elliot chuckled softly. “So he has a nice side after all.”

The sound seemed distant to Rean's ears. A bare couple of arge away, he saw Machias's back stiffen, but the green-haired student kept his face forward, so Rean couldn't see his expression. He could, however, feel his classmate's resentment; it seemed to come off Machias in waves.

“Good work today, everyone.” For once, Sara wasn't being particularly weird. “Tomorrow's a free day, so be sure to make the most of it. Just remember, next Wednesday is your next practical!”

Fun, Rean thought. What will try to kill us this month? Assuming I survive the old schoolhouse.

The mental griping was only half serious, though, due more to exhaustion than anything else. He made a note to brush up on the eigth form; knowing Sara Valestein, there was every chance she would throw them a challenge for which his sword would be the wrong answer.

“I was wondering when she'd bring that up,” Alisa said with a resigned sigh.

Emma raised a hand. “Um, will you be announcing our next field study then?”

“Of course!” the instructor said with a grin. “You'll be heading out next weekend. I'm sure you can hardly wait!”

I think you're speaking a bit presumptuously there, Instructor.

Except, of course, where Laura S. Arseid was concerned. “I, for one, am looking forward to it.”

Of course you are.

To be fair, Rean had enjoyed their trip to Celdic, save for the part where they antagonized the provincial army. It was a nice place, and he'd met a number of interesting people. Not to mention the local cuisine was some of the best he'd eaten in quite a while.

Sara, of course, had another bombshell. “Just so you know, midterm exams are scheduled for the middle of next month. Might want to file that away.”

Rean only barely stifled a groan at that. He had absolutely no regrets about joining Class VII, but still, exams. Frantic study sessions, probably well into the night, excessive caffeine consumption, and at the end of it all terminal writer's cramp. Dealing with Machias and Jusis's bickering was less stressful.

“Sounds irritating,” Fie said in a flat tone. Rean couldn't help agreeing.

Gaius, not too surprisingly, had a more measured take. “So we'll finally get to put all the knowledge we've gained over the past couple of months to the test.”

Sara nodded. “It's a good thing, too. You guys need to think about your academic studies; school can't be all about military strategy, you know!”

No offense, Instructor, but that's not exactly convincing coming from you.

“Besides, if that's all it is, I'm going to get an earful from Vice-Principal Heinrich. Again.”

Now there, I have to sympathize. For a baron, he's way too certain of his own importance.

Alisa raised a tentative hand. “Um, can we ask you if there's anything we don't understand?” There was a most uncharacteristic quaver in her voice.

The instructor shook her head. “Not if you care about the answer answer being right! I'm a combat instructor; textbook stuff like that is way over my head.” She smiled airily. “Anyway, that's all for homeroom! Machias, if you would?”

Rean's mind was elsewhere as the class vice president went through the usual formalities. Midterms aside, with a practical exam a mere four days away, it was probably wiser to concentrate on his physical training for the time being. Maybe work on his hand to hand a little.

“See you later, then,” Elliot said into his thoughts.

Rean looked up, to see Elliot and Gaius to either side of his desk. “You two have club activities today?”

“Sure do,” Elliot said. “How about dinner later?”

“We've been eating in the cafeteria a lot lately,” Gaius pointed out. “Having dinner at the cafe in Trista would be a nice change of pace.”

It took no more than three seconds for Rean to make up his mind. “That sounds good,” he said. “I'll be in the gym for a bit anyway, should work up an appetite. Meet in the entrance hall later?”

“Works for me,” Elliot said, turning with a wave. “See you then.”

Rean sat back in his chair, His current strained relationship with Machias aside, things seemed to be going quite well for the time being. Alisa's friendly nod as she passed was a case in point; that had been probably the most awkward experience of his life.

“Rean?”

He jumped slightly. “Sorry, Laura, I wasn't paying attention.”

She smiled. “No one can be vigilant all the time. At any rate, I want to ask if you plan to inspect the old schoolhouse.”

That's right, she wanted to see it for herself. “That's the plan,” Rean said. “Principal Vandyck asked me to keep an eye on it, so I'll at least be taking a quick look inside.”

“All right,” Laura said with a nod. “Please inform me when you're planning to begin the expedition, if you would. I do have club activities tomorrow, but as far as I'm concerned the old schoolhouse takes priority.”

Rean smiled. “Will do.” He did, however, make a mental note to time it for after Swimming Club was finished for the day. Though he knew better than to mention it to anyone (especially Alisa), he couldn't resist the chance to see Laura in a swimsuit.

Well. That was for later. His first priority was making sure he was in shape for the practical exam. Pushing himself to his feet, he headed off for the gym.

Mindful of the upcoming midterm exams, Laura spent half an hour in the library brushing up on her weaker subjects. History had always been a source of fascination for her, given Legram's past, and she was well-read, though not to the same extent as Emma or Machias. Economics, however, she knew little, and mathematics made her head hurt often as not.

A half hour was all she could take after a long day. Deciding some physical training would be a good way to clear her head, she approached the gymnasium. Stepping through the main door, she paused at the sound of heavy breathing coming from the area the Fencing Club normally used.

Laura frowned. As nearly as she could recall, the Fencing Club wasn't meeting just then. The door was partly ajar, so she supposed there was no harm in taking a look.

Her eyes widened. Rean Schwarzer was in the center of the mat, his uniform jacket and shirt replaced by a white tank top. He was going through the basics of what Laura recognized as the unarmed base form of the Eight Leaves One Blade style, and while he clearly wasn't ready to challenge, say, a Taito practitioner, Laura would not have cared to face him herself.

Clearly Rean was the source of the heavy breathing; his messy black hair was visibly glistening with sweat, and the tank top was stained in several places, clinging to his lean, wiry form. Laura couldn't help noticing he was very toned, as befitted a swordsman.

Stop staring! she told herself sternly. Oblivious to her presence, Rean appeared to be wrapping up his workout, ending with a double handspring that left him in a half-crouch. He held the position for a moment, apparently catching his breath, then straightened. Only then did he realize he wasn't alone, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw Laura.

“I hope I'm not interrupting,” she said, relieved beyond words that she hadn't been caught staring. “That was the eighth form, was it not?”

Rean nodded, retrieving a towel. “Since we have a practical in just a few days, I thought it would be a good idea to brush up on the basics a little.”

Truly, he was a man after her own heart. “I was studying for the midterms,” Laura said, “but there's only so much of economics and mathematics that I can take in one sitting. And as you say, we do have a practical exam coming up.”

Rean scratched the back of his head. “I'd offer to spar with you now, but I wore myself out pretty thoroughly.”

“Besides which, you have a dinner engagement,” Laura said, offering a reassuring smile. “I quite understand, and it isn't as though there won't be opportunities later on. In any case, right now I just need a light workout.”

“Trust me, I know what you mean,” Rean said, scooping up his jacket. “See you back at the dorm.” With a wave and a smile, he made his exit.

For a moment Laura stared after him. More and more she was finding she had a great deal in common with the noble swordsman from the far north. It made her time at Thors that much richer, and made her more certain than ever that she had made the right choice in enrolling. It helped, too, that he was easy on the eyes. . . .

She scolded herself; that wasn't how she ought to be thinking about a classmate, even—or perhaps especially—one she had met long before. She also, however, made a mental note to be more understanding the next time she noticed him staring at her at swimming practice. One thing Laura S. Arseid refused to be was a hypocrite.

Pushing the thought aside for the time being, she drew her sword and began her exercises.

Rean wandered about a little before heading back, though he kept it shorter than usual in light of his dinner plans. With no particular destination in mind, he ambled toward the old schoolhouse, part of him wanting to see if there was anything unusual.

There was, but not in the way he'd expected. Sprawled on a hard wooden bench, sound asleep, was Fie Claussell. Rean shook his head in mild disbelief. His youngest classmate had an uncanny ability to fall asleep anywhere and everywhere, but this was a bit much.

“That doesn't even look comfortable,” he muttered. “How does she do it?” He frowned, recalling Emma saying something about Fie, helping her study or some such. “I guess I should wake her up.”

Apparently just the intent was enough. With a sleepy murmur, Fie set up and stretched, yawning. She blinked a couple of times, until her eyes found him. “Oh, Rean.”

“Hi,” Rean said. “I just happened to be passing by when I saw you on the bench. Um, aren't you supposed to be meeting with Emma?”

Fie blinked again, then shrugged. “Guess so. Later.” She hopped off the bench.

Rean held up a hand. “One more thing, I'm not sure falling asleep in odd places around campus is a good idea. If you really need to sleep during the day, you should at least use one of the infirmary beds.”

She paused half a step past him. “I do sometimes. Beatrix gives me sweets if she's there.”

“The nurse?” Rean said, lifting his eyebrows. “She does seem like a kind person, albeit someone you really don't want to cross. Still, that's beside the point. A girl like you needs to be more—”

“Forget about that,” Fie interrupted. “Can't you sense it?”

Rean frowned. “Sense what?”

The silver-haired girl nodded at the old schoolhouse. “This building, it's changed again. A lot.”

Rean couldn't help gaping. “How do you—”

“Later.”

With the same nigh-superhuman agility she'd displayed on their first day, Fie was off at a trot. For a while Rean just stared after her in wonder. It's changed? Just how does she even know that? He shook his head. No time to check today, and there's no way I'm going in there alone.

In any case, as Laura had pointed out not ten minutes before, he had a dinner engagement. Time to pick up the pace.

Most of the student body appeared to have left already, which wasn't exactly a surprise. Also unsurprising was the light in a second floor window of the Student Union building; Rean would privately have been shocked if Towa made it back to her dorm by curfew.

His stomach tightened when he reached the gate. Crow Armbrust was waiting for him, an already all-too-familiar grin on his face. “Hey, there, Lord Rean. Up for another match?”

Before Rean could respond, a female voice interrupted. “Hey! Stop trying to leech money off first years, you louse!”

The look on Crow's face was of almost comical dismay. “It's the she-devil,” he said with an aggrieved sigh.

Said “she-devil” was a young woman in black leather. Rean vaguely recalled seeing her around before, if nothing else the short purple hair was distinctive. Presumably a second year student, though Rean didn't think he'd ever seen her in a uniform. She was walking what looked like a bulkier than normal bicycle.

No, it's powered by orbal energy. Just what is it?

“You're Rean, right?” she said with a friendly smile. “Or Lord Rean, I guess it'd be, since you're a noble yourself. I've heard a lot about you from Towa and George. Sounds like you pulled off some pretty amazing stuff in Celdic last month.”

Rean suppressed a grimace. “Please, it's just Rean; the 'Lord' part drives me crazy, which is probably why this lunatic,” he jerked his head at Crow, “uses it.” He shrugged. “I didn't think I was doing anything that noteworthy, though. Still, I guess I should officially introduce myself. I'm Rean Schwarzer, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” The leather-clad girl smiled. “Angelica Rogner.”

Rean almost took a step back. “Rogner?” he repeated. “As in Marquis Rogner, head of one of the Four Great Houses?”

“I swear, same reaction every time!” Angelica said, laughing. “Oh, the look on your face. Yep, I'm his unworthy daughter. Not that he wants anything to do with me, since I go around dressed like this.”

Crow snorted. “Pretty sure it's less how you dress and more how you behave. And where are you going on that bike at this hour? We've got an hour and a half to curfew, you know.”

“George finally finished tuning the orbal engine,” Angelica said, mounting the strange bike. “Thought I'd give it a run to the capital and back, see how it holds up.”

“Sure must be nice not to have a care in the world,” Crow said with a sigh.

Um, you're one to talk, from what I've seen, Rean couldn't help thinking. I don't think you've seen that definition of 'care' anywhere outside a dictionary.

Angelica laughed again. “You're one to talk,” she said, and flashed Rean a grin. “Catch you later. I'm thinking of putting in a request later; if I do, I'd appreciate a quick response.” With a roar of the orbal engine, she was off.

“It's a little something George cooked up a while back,” Crow said, seeming to read Rean's mind. “Calls it an 'orbal bike.' Pretty cool, huh?”

Rean nodded. “It is. Kinda like a steel horse. I'm guessing they're not available in stores.”

“Nah.” Crow waved a hand. “The Roer Institute of Technology put that one together as a kind of test bed, and George finished the job. 'Gelica put up the money for parts, though Towa and I pitched in, too.” He shrugged and stepped through the gate. “Whelp, I've got stuff to do. See you around, Lord Rean.”

I really wish he'd stop calling me that.

Dinner at the local cafe was definitely worth it. Rean slept better than he had in some time, and woke up feeling energized and ready to tackle the month's Student Council busywork. The requisite old schoolhouse request aside, the tasks were incredibly varied, ranging from acting as a substitute tutor (which could be awkward, as his only teaching experience had been helping his sister learn the family sword style), to delivering books. Among other various and sundry activities.

It was early, and he had plenty of time. Basking in the warm sunlight of a May morning, Rean strolled in the general direction of the Thors campus, thinking of stopping at Kirsche's for a cup of tea before he really got going. It wasn't quite as good as the green tea his master favored, but it was still a good way to start the day.

“Good morning, Rean.”

He looked up with a smile. “Morning, Emma,” he said. “Club activities today?”

Emma grimaced. “In a couple of hours, yes. Dorothee has . . . unique tastes in literature.”

Don't ask, for the love of Aidios don't ask! “I'm sure you'll get used to it,” Rean said, sipping his tea. “I'm just here for a quick pick-me-up before I start running errands. Going to be a long day.”

“Don't push yourself too hard,” Emma said. “You can't help anyone if you don't watch out for your own health.”

It was a refrain Rean had heard many times over the last few years. “I'll be all right,” he said. “Compared to our usual training, this is practically a vacation. I know,” he added, seeing Emma's skeptical look, “I'll try to take it easy. Most of the day's tasks look pretty light, at least. There's just a lot of them.”

Emma nodded, still looking just a bit uncomfortable with the idea. Nevertheless, she appeared willing to drop it for the time being. “What's it like in Ymir?”

Rean blinked, surprised at her sudden interest. It didn't seem sinister or anything; he highly doubted Emma Millstein had a sinister bone in her body. “It's a pretty quiet place, up in the northern mountains,” he said. “A lot like Legram, actually; we've got a rail line connecting us to the rest of the Empire, but otherwise it's pretty isolated.” He smiled in memory. “There was still snow on the ground when I left.”

“So it's cold most of the year?”

“Yeah,” Rean nodded. “I've seen storms that leave us with two or three arge of snow overnight. Needless to say, we get most of our produce from the south. Plenty of game, though; my mom makes a great pheasant stew.”

Emma smiled a bit wistfully. “She sounds like a wonderful person.”

Rean's gaze grew distant. “She is. She and Dad, they've always treated me like I was their own, everybody in Ymir does, really.” It was one of the things he most treasured about that place, yet also the source of much anxiety.

“I'd like to visit sometime,” Emma said, standing. “Sorry to run, but Dorothee is expecting me.”

“I'd probably get moving anyway,” Rean said. “Still got a lot to do today. See you tonight.”

Book delivery, he decided, was a logical starting point, since it would have him crisscrossing the town. He glanced at the list he'd been given. . . . Or perhaps not. Thors instructors would logically be found on the Thors campus, with one possible exception.

Sure enough. A magazine about hot spots in Erebonia could only be for one person, and she was back at the dorm. Sighing in resignation, Rean turned on his heel. Hopefully his esteemed instructor wasn't already drunk, though he wasn't holding his breath.

His hopes were partly realized, at least. Sara Valestein was indeed drinking (he could smell it from several arge away), but at least seemed reasonably lucid. Covering his disgust at the empty bottles scattered about, Rean walked over and set the magazine on her bed.

“Why, Rean, why do you have this?” she slurred. “Don't tell me you've taken an interest in your instructor.”

“Perish the thought,” Rean said. “No, Mister Keynes put in a request with the Student Council, and when I saw that magazine I instantly figured it was for you.”

Sara grinned. “Knew you were quick on the uptake. Yeah, this one's mine. Researching possible field study locations, y'know?”

Yeah, and I'm Emperor Dreichels. “I'll take your word for it,” Rean said. “If you'll excuse me.”

“My first field study was overall a success. There were some awkward moments with the Kreuzen Provincial Army, as you may have heard, but in the end things were resolved satisfactorily. The group to which I was assigned performed very well in combat, despite our inexperience.

Of greater interest is something I learned on the way back to Trista. My classmate Rean Schwarzer is indeed the same person I met during our trip to Ymir seven years ago. From what he said, the reason he did not recognize me was something that happened two years later. Rean was understandably unwilling to go into detail, but he did say it was what impelled him to study the Eight Leaves style. There remains a faint hesitation in his swordplay, but I'll not pry. It is for him to resolve; I can only be there if he needs it.

In any case, despite that inner darkness he is every bit the warmhearted young man I met on that day. Though I have not known him long, he is a dear friend, and I hope to someday bring him—and the rest of my classmates—to see Legram firsthand.

Regards, Laura.”

With a faint smile, the Viscount Victor Sandlot Arseid, lord of Legram, set the letter on his desk. He'd already read it several times, but his daughter's choice of words intrigued him. While she had spoken well of all her classmates (even the mildly chauvinistic Machias Regnitz), her description of Rean Schwarzer was positively glowing. As Laura was not easily impressed, this bore further investigation.

“What do you think, Klaus?” he asked the elderly man standing before him. “You've met young Lord Rean.”

The butler, who had served House Arseid since the time of the previous viscount, shrugged fractionally. “Difficult to say, my lord,” he said. “I only met him briefly when he arrived at Thors two months ago. Having said that, I have no reason to doubt Lady Laura's judgment; he did seem like a fine, upstanding young man.”

Arseid rubbed his bearded chin thoughtfully. “And Laura seems quite taken with him, or at least is heading in that direction.”

“Indeed, sir,” Klaus said. “If I may say so, encouraging her interest may be beneficial to all concerned. Even if it does not lead to a match, this Rean Schwarzer could be of great help to her in the days to come.”

The viscount nodded somberly and got to his feet, turning to gaze out at Legram's foggy streets. “I agree,” he said. “To be honest, I hope something more develops between them, so long as it isn't too fast. You know how concerned I've been about her seeming lack of prospects; it's one of the reasons I allowed her to enroll at Thors.” His mouth quirked. “Saint Astraia isn't a good place for a girl to meet her future husband, after all.”

Klaus allowed himself a chuckle. “And it is perhaps fortunate she was placed in this experimental class. I for one doubt she would be able to tolerate most ordinary noblemen.”

“You have a gift for understatement, old friend,” Arseid said. “In all likelihood, there would be bloodshed if she were to marry a scion of Cayenne or Hyarms. The fact that Duke Albarea's younger son is also in Class VII is concerning, granted, but more because of his family than the boy himself.”

Klaus nodded. “What of the reports out of Celdic?”

Arseid grimaced. “The tip of the iceberg, I think. It's true Laura and her friends were able to avert a crisis, but I doubt it will end there. Whatever Duke Albarea is scheming, I've no doubt it goes far beyond mere tax disputes.”

“And the Chancellor?”

“That goes double for him,” Arseid said, returning to his desk. “I don't know Osborne very well, but he is known as the Blood and Iron Chancellor for a reason. I doubt there has been a more unyielding figure in Erebonian politics since Dreichels the Lionheart.”

The older man closed his eyes. “And with RMP involvement in the Celdic incident, the fuse is lit.”

Arseid nodded grimly. “It's a slow fuse, but when it burns through, the Empire will be thrown into chaos.” He picked up another envelop, this one more official. “I think it's time I paid a visit to Ymir. Baron Schwarzer and I have much to discuss.”

With all of his errands finally finished (some of the requests had Rean shaking his head in faint disbelief), it was time to see if Fie was right about the old schoolhouse. After the previous month's bizarre adventure, he thought she probably was, which still left the question of how she knew in the first place.

Not that he could ask her right then. When asked, Fie would only say she was going to be busy for their entire free day, without giving any details. Laura was available, as she had promised, as was Alisa, so they at least had a stronger survey team this time around.

“It's already been about a month, eh,” Elliot said, looking around the foyer with faint unease. “I'm still a bit scared, but we can't exactly lock this place up and pretend nothing happened.”

Rean nodded. “Especially since the principal himself asked us to keep exploring it. We'll just have to take it slow, and be ready for anything. I'll be counting on you all for backup.”

“Of course,” Laura said. “Should any 'fiends' appear, I will relish the chance to test my mettle against them.” The pronouncement was typical Laura, though the fact that her hair was still a bit damp from swimming practice was a bit distracting.

And if she had any idea what you're thinking, she'd kill you, Rean reminded himself.

“Gotta admit, I feel safer with you along, Laura,” Elliot said. “Especially after Celdic.”

Alisa folded her arms. “I've heard the stories, but it's still hard to believe. A building that reconfigures itself on its own? Impossible doesn't begin to describe it.”

“Trust me, it's hard even after seeing it firsthand,” Rean said. “Whatever this place is, it's not normal.” He waved a hand. “Let's go.”

Just how not normal took even Rean by surprise. Expecting a staircase on the other side of the door, he stopped in his tracks when it failed to appear. In its place was a square chamber with an octagonal platform in the center. Though it didn't make any sense at all, even by old schoolhouse standards, it looked suspiciously like an elevator.

“No way,” Alisa breathed, her jaw dropping. “This is completely different from the last time we were here.”

“It's completely different from our exploration last month,” Rean said. “I mean, there was a staircase, not . . . whatever that is.” He shook his head. “It must have changed even since Instructor Sara was last in here; she's crazy, but I'm pretty sure she'd have told us about this.”

Gaius frowned. “Could someone have sneaked in and done all this?” he wondered, then immediately dismissed the idea. “It's too large-scale, impossible to pull off without being noticed.”

“I'd say impossible, period,” Alisa said.

Impossible, and downright eerie. Rean looked mistrustfully at the ancient stone walls, so out of place in quiet, picturesque Trista. Such a mystery so close to home made him deeply uneasy. If these ancient ruins could change their layout so drastically, what else might be possible?

Well. That was why they had come. “No sense just standing around,” he said. “Let's at least take a look at that pedestal.”

Alisa, surprisingly, took the lead. “Definitely a device of some kind,” she said, half to herself. “If I had to guess, it's similar to the kind of elevator you'd find in a mineshaft.”

“Hmm,” Rean looked over her shoulder, “could we use this to go deeper underground?”

“Looks that way.” Alisa leaned closer to what looked like a control board, and did something Rean couldn't quite see. “There. We can use it to go one floor down. It looks like there are more, but anything below is locked out.”

Rean instinctively put a hand on his sword. “That suggests something is trying to keep us—or anyone—from getting to those lower floors. But who, and why?”

“Got me,” Alisa said. “The proof is right there: all the other floors are off limits. I”m not seeing a date or model number, either, and that means it was probably built in the Middle Ages, like the building itself.”

Laura raised her eyebrows. “You're surprisingly well informed. It's not often girls develop such interest in machinery.”

For some odd reason, the remark left Alisa visibly flustered. “I-I don't know that much!” she protested. “It's just low-level stuff; I'm sure plenty of other people could tell you the same!” She looked at Rean almost imploringly. “So what do we do? Do you want to try going down to the second floor?”

He wanted to ask just why she'd gotten so hot under the collar over a simple comment, but decided against it, instead filing it away as another part of the mystery that was “Alisa R.” “I don't think we have a choice,” he said, and drew his sword. “But remember, we're going into completely unknown territory. Be ready for anything, and make sure your ARCUS links are active.” He frowned suddenly, realizing there were five of them.

Gaius smiled. “I'll go solo for this one,” he said. “I have some experience fighting on my own, after all.”

One problem solved. “If you're sure,” Rean said. “All right. Same teams as in Celdic for the rest of us.”

“Makes sense,” Alisa agreed. “This doesn't seem like a good time for experimenting.”

They assumed a cramped combat formation even as the elevator began its descent. For himself, Rean hoped they were just being paranoid, but the hope was faint. He could already sense monsters uncomfortably close by; from the look on his face, Gaius had picked up on it as well.

“Second floor,” Alisa said as the elevator came to a smooth halt. “Everybody off, I guess?”

Rean's lip twitched in amusement. “This is definitely different from last month, but,” he nodded to the far wall, “that door sure looks like the one we went through then.” His eyes narrowed. “And I can already sense monsters behind them.”

He heard Elliot gulp, but the musician made no protest. “Excellent,” Laura said. “I look forward to testing my skills against them.”

Of course you do. “Regardless, everyone keep your eyes open.”

After half an hour of negotiating the twists and turns, Rean was almost starting to share Laura's enthusiasm for fighting monsters if only because it broke the monotony. Slicing up giant bugs, so long as he was careful, was turning out to be an excellent means of letting off steam.

Gaius had chosen to mostly act as rearguard, taking advantage of the greater reach his size and fighting style afforded. Anything that got past Rean and Laura soon fell to the exchange student's spear before it could threaten their physically weaker members.

Just as the door at the start was disturbingly familiar, so was the chamber at the end. They kept weapons at the ready; after the previous excursion, they were expecting something big and nasty.

They weren't disappointed. Not one, but three unknown creatures, resembling giant stone moths with vaguely human faces. Deciding not to waste time gawking, Rean half-crouched and slid forward, bringing his tachi up in a simple but devastating arc. Feeling a brief jolt of satisfaction at his target's pained roar, he sidestepped, allowing Laura to slip past and drive home a vicious overhead strike.

The second stone creature charged up what looked like some kind of energy beam, but was rudely interrupted by an arrow to the face. Glancing back, Rean saw Alisa give him a quick thumbs-up before moving to cover Elliot. So far, so good.

Gaius was doing a good job keeping the third occupied. The exchange student, despite his size, moved with a fluid grace, always somehow managing to be elsewhere when his enemy struck. It was obvious, Rean reflected absently, just how Gaius had managed to earn a place at Thors.

It was also time to wrap things up if they wanted to be home for dinner. Thanks to the ARCUS link, Rean didn't have to so much as glance at Laura; the link told him what he needed to know, and vice versa. Concentrating, he summoned the same flames he'd used on the giant baboon in Lunaria Nature Park. One, two, three slashes, and his opponent was sent reeling.

And into a perfect position for Laura to deal a fatal blow. “Behold, the might of the Arseid School! Radiant Blade Dance!”

Rean could only marvel at how easily his classmate was able to swing that huge sword. “Blade Dance” was an apt description indeed, as Laura swung the massive blade back and forth, once in a complete circle. The sheer force was enough to leave their foe in several pieces.

“Man,” Alisa gasped, “they sure put up a fight.”

“Perhaps it's because they considered the entire floor their domain,” Laura suggested, tucking her sword away. “Still, it wasn't beyond our abilities, so perhaps the floor is ours now.”

“For whatever it's worth,” Elliot said, nudging a fragment with the toe of his boot. “There doesn't seem to be anything of interest here.”

A good point, that. Like the previous month, they'd fought their way through a winding maze, culminating in a clash with something large and dangerous . . . and found nothing. Worth it for the combat training, certainly, but nonetheless puzzling, and mildly frustrating.

It also seemed too close to be a coincidence. “There's something strange about it, but,” Rean shook his head. “I don't think there's anything more to be gained here. We'd better head back.”

As on the previous floor, there was a conveniently placed transport platform. Rean wasn't sure he trusted the things, but they didn't exactly have the energy to fight their way back out. One highly disorienting moment later, and they were stepping into the afternoon sun.

What there was of it; again like the previous month, the sun was steadily sinking to the horizon when they finally emerged. “That was more exhausting than I expected,” Alisa said, wiping sweat from her brow.

“You can say that again,” Elliot agreed. “The monsters were a lot stronger than last month, too.”

Rean nodded absently. “The elevator is the biggest conundrum, though. How did it even get there?” He glanced briefly at the darkening sky. “We'd better report to the principal.”

Vandyck listened to their report without comment. When they had finished, he nodded slowly. “So this month, there's suddenly an elevator allowing access further below the surface,” he said, and shook his head in vague wonder. “Just how many more surprises await us there?”

“I can tell you one thing,” Sara said, “that elevator was nowhere to be seen when I inspected the place just last week. Why can't I be the one to find the cool stuff?”

Rean barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “There appeared to be more floors beneath,” he said. “We only had access to the first two.”

“I tried to find some way to unlock the elevator, but it wouldn't budge,” Alisa put in.

Vandyck frowned. “I've been at this academy for decades, and this is the first I've heard of any additional floors. Until last month, the floor we used for your orienteering exercise was all we had ever known.”

“So what we explored today didn't even exist?” Gaius pressed.

“With easy access via elevator no less,” Laura said. “I've heard strange stories about ruins from the Dark Ages, but this is barely conceivable even by that standard.”

Rean shrugged helplessly. “Something must have caused it, but I have no idea what that cause could be. Would you have any idea, sir?”

The principal pursed his lips, thinking. “It may have something to do with Emperor Dreichels. He left strict orders regarding that building, which have been passed down from principal to principal ever since. He proclaimed that the old schoolhouse was to be preserved as it was until the 'Promised Day' arrives. What that means, I'm afraid I cannot say, though some have suggested it ties back to the War of the Lions, and to Dreichels' companion, the brave Saint Sandlot.”

Alisa inhaled sharply. “Saint Lianne Sandlot!?”

“The Lance Maiden,” Laura murmured. “If his words did concern the War of the Lions, it stands to reason she would be connected somehow. She and her Eisenritter fought valiantly at his side throughout the conflict. Valiantly enough to be regarded as a saint by the Septian Church, I doubt there are many in Erebonia who don't know her name.”

Gaius smiled faintly. “Her name is celebrated even in the Highlands.”

“And there's no shortage of legends about her life and death,” Alisa said. “Still, how could she be connected to the old schoolhouse?”

Vandyck shrugged. “I'm not certain, granted, but when I think of the changes and Dreichels' words, I find it difficult to believe there is no connection. It strikes me as too close to be a coincidence.”

“As good a theory as any, I guess,” Rean said. Still, he couldn't help wondering just what the “Promised Day” was. It definitely sounded ominous, even without the bizarre goings-on in the schoolhouse.

“There's too little to go on,” Sara said. “As it is, we could speculate all night long and not come up with an answer. All we can really do is keep searching the ruins.”

The principal nodded. “Regardless, you all performed admirably, and I'm sorry to have kept you here so long. No doubt you're all very tired.”

They were, but there was no point in making an issue of it. “We'll let you know if we discover anything else,” Rean said.

“Excellent,” Vandyck said. “Still, by all means set priorities as you see fit. You aren't my personal assistants, after all.”

Which, Rean reflected as he and his classmates made their exit, didn't matter at all. He for one intended to prioritize the schoolhouse if only because he wanted to know what the hell was going on. Besides, it was a handy way to keep his combat skills sharp.

“Thanks for the help,” he said in the hall. “There's no way I could have done all that alone.”

Alisa smiled. “Think nothing of it. Honestly, I want to solve the mystery as much as you do.”

“I agree,” Laura said. “Besides, fighting the monsters within is excellent training,” she added, echoing Rean's own thoughts. “Should the opportunity arise, I would be more than happy to accompany you again.”

“Same here,” Elliot put in. “And not just the schoolhouse; if you need help for anything on our free days, I'm just a call away.”

Rean smiled. “Thanks, all of you. I'll remember that.”

The gang dispersed immediately thereafter. Rean, needing time to think, cut across the park near the florist's shop. The cool evening air washed over his face and ruffled his already-messy hair, seeming to take his worries with it. He sat on the nearest bench, just soaking it all in.

He was just on the verge of heading back when he heard a tinkling sound. Rousing himself, Rean looked around, then down. A sleek black cat blinked up at him, head tilted slightly to one side. Judging by the belled collar (the source of the tinkling) and bow on the tail, it was no stray.

“Hello, there,” he said, crouching to scratch it under the chin. “What's a girl like you doing wandering Trista in the evening. Then again,” he frowned, “are you a girl?”

Hiss! Pain lanced through his right forefinger as the cat struck with lightning speed. Giving him an arch look, the cat sniffed and trotted away, hopping into some nearby bushes and out of sight.

Well, that could have gone better. Guess I went too far. Making a mental note to disinfect when he had the chance, Rean crossed the park and walked the short way down the street. By the time he pushed the double doors open, his feet felt like they were made of lead.

“Oh, hello, Rean,” Emma greeted from her mailbox. “Long day?”

“You might say that,” Rean said, cradling his injured finger. “You just got back, I take it?”

She nodded. “I had some shopping to do after my club meeting.” A faint grimace. “Literature Club ran long.” Her eyes drifted down slightly. “What happened to your finger?”

Rean shrugged. “A black cat I met in the park; had a blue ribbon and a bell on, so I assume it wasn't a stray. I managed to offend it—her—so she scratched me and took off.”

For some reason, Emma seemed to take the news very personally. “I'm so sorry!” she gasped, digging for ointment and bandages. “Here, I'll fix it up right away!”

All Rean could think was, What's that all about?

Three days later, Emma Millstein and black cats were the last things on Rean's mind. A bright May afternoon, perfect for their second practical. The combat shell was a good deal tougher than the last time, of course, but so were Rean and his classmates after their adventure in the old schoolhouse. His group dealt with it without too much trouble, though it was exhausting.

Standing next to Laura, he couldn't help wincing as the second group took their turn. Elliot and Emma were doing their best, and Fie seemed to be keeping the bizarre contraption on its metaphorical toes, but Jusis and Machias were almost painful to watch. Individually, they were among the strongest fighters Rean had ever met, but putting them in the same group visibly dragged the whole thing down.

“This is not going to end well,” Alisa muttered. “Just look at those two. It's like they hate each other so much it blinds them to their surroundings.”

As if in emphasis, Jusis took a hit that he could easily have avoided had he not been glaring at Machias. “I fear you are correct,” Laura said sadly. “I do hope no one is injured.”

In the end, the second team was able to win through, but only barely. Emma and Elliot were all but on their knees, with Jusis and Machias not much better off. Fie was still standing, but then the jury was still out on whether she was even human. As usual, she seemed bored.

Sara was shaking her head. “I knew it would be a struggle, but I didn't expect it to go this badly.” Her gaze shifted to Jusis and Machias. “I hope you two have a good, hard look at where you went wrong here. This outcome is largely your fault, after all.”

Her words were unusually harsh. In the two months he'd been at Thors, Rean couldn't recall his homeroom teacher being quite that firm with any of her students, and Aidios knew some of them had given her plenty of provocation. She must've been really frustrated.

“Anyway, that wraps up this month's practical exam,” Sara said. “Next, I'll be announcing the details of your next field study. Each of you, come forward and take one of these.”

With a growing feeling of dread, Rean obediently took an envelop and opened his. Seeing what was written, his blood ran cold. Group A: Rean, Emma, Machias, Jusis, Fie (Study Location: Bareahard, the Verdant City). Group B: Alisa, Laura, Elliot, Gaius (Study Location: Saint-Arkh, the Old Capital).

Is she trying to kill me!?

“Bareahard and Saint-Arkh,” Gaius murmured. “Both well-known cities in the Empire.”

“Both are provincial capitals,” Laura said. “Fair choices, I think.”

Rean could think of at least one person who would violently disagree, and braced himself for the explosion. He just hoped the rest of the class wouldn't be caught in the blast.

“IS THIS SOME KIND OF SICK JOKE!?” Machias demanded. “Instructor, just what are you trying to prove!? Do you have some kind of personal vendetta against us or something!?”

Rean traded worried looks with Laura and Alisa. He'd known the reaction would be bad, but this was far worse than he'd expected. Please, don't do something stupid.

“For a change, I agree with him,” Jusis said, folding his arms imperiously. “I refuse to accept these group allocations. Change them at once.”

You damned IDIOT!

Sara offered a faint smile. “I don't know, they seem pretty perfect from where I'm standing. Besides, you're from Bareahard, so putting you in Group A is a no-brainer.”

“Then put me in Group B!” Machias ground out. “I'm not thrilled about going to Saint-Arkh, either, but it's better than gallivanting off to his hometown!” He gritted his teeth. “Besides, Bareahard is like a breeding ground for nobles and their dusty old ideas. The place is crawling with them!”

Machias, will you please ease off a little? Not every noble in Erebonia is like that.br />

“Well, I can't deny that,” Sara conceded with a shrug. One eyebrow lifted slightly. “Especially since it's exactly why I put you in Group A to begin with!” She put her hands on her hips. “Now, I'm no officer, so I'm not about to tell you my orders are absolute or anything like that; way too military for my taste. But I am your instructor, and it's my duty to look out for your best interests. Which is exactly what I'm doing here.”

Terrifying though it was, Rean actually agreed with her basic point. If Jusis and Machias couldn't learn to work together despite their obvious antipathy, they had no business attending a military academy to begin with. He just didn't appreciate being caught in the middle (by design, knowing Instructor Sara).

“So if you have any objections,” she smiled brightly, “how about trying to make me listen by force.”

Even Fie sucked in a startled breath at that. Jusis, by contrast, almost smiled. “Interesting,” he said. He and Machias exchanged nods, and they stepped forward, hands on their weapons.

“You idiots,” Rean hissed. “Do you have any idea what you're up against?”

His pleas fell on deaf ears, as Sara clearly expected. “Male pride is so predictable. I knew you couldn't possibly turn down an offer like that.” She smirked. “And I wouldn't have it any other way!” An instant later, she had a weapon in each hand, a sword in her right, an orbal pistol in her left. Nasty-looking.

Aidios, have mercy.

“That's the spirit!” Sara said when they refused to back down. “Rean, why don't you give them a hand? Don't worry, I'm not lumping you in; this is just to make it more of a fair fight. Win or lose, your slate is clean.”

Why does that not reassure me? Sighing, Rean drew his own blade. “You do realize this is insane, right?” he said, shooting a glare at his impromptu teammates.

“Okay, it's time . . . for some extreme extra credit,” Sara said, clearly relishing the moment. “If you think you can 'convince' me to change your assignments, well, let's see how you measure up!”

Machias, predictably, made the first move. His shotgun barked twice, both shots missing wide as Sara twisted with casual ease. Her pistol crack in return, the first shot missing Machias by a hair, the second knocking his shotgun off-target. The only reason she didn't finish the job was a lunge from Jusis, which she parried with little effort. Rean's attempt to follow through was slightly more successful, achieving a brief blade lock before she kicked him away.

Again the pistol cracked, and this time Machias's shotgun went flying, stopped by a leaping catch from Fie. Jusis's sword was point-first in the ground an instant later, and while Rean was able to deflect a single shot, he suddenly found the point of Sara's sword aimed at the bridge of his nose.

“Impossible,” Jusis gasped.

Sighing, Rean sheathed his sword. “I tried to warn you,” he said, glaring at his teammates. “She was holding back, too.”

“I knew she was strong, but this exceeds my expectations,” Laura said. “Her fighting style is unique; I couldn't begin to guess which school she represents.”

Not even winded, Sara grinned. “Chalk one up for the educator! Groups A and B will be heading to their destinations this weekend as planned. Good luck, everyone!”

Groaning, Rean turned to leave, making a mental note to stock up on tea when he got the chance. He had a feeling he was going to need all the soothing he could get.

Sara stopped him with a touch on the arm. “Sorry about all this,” she said, too softly for anyone else. “I'm kind of low on options here. I'm sure you understand.”

A bit of sympathy for his teacher's difficulties slipping through the dread, Rean nodded. “Too well,” he admitted. “I'll see if I can keep them from killing each other, at least.”

“That's all I can ask,” Sara said. “Good luck.”

Chapter Text

Ymir in late May was a bustling place. With the relatively short growing season in the northern mountains, planting went on at an almost frantic pace in what little usable land there was. More than one resident was heard to give thanks to Aidios for the railroads, which made storing up supplies for the winter far easier than it had been in times past.

It was the railroad station that had Baron Teo Schwarzer's attention that spring morning. A stocky man in his mid-forties, Baron Schwarzer had short hair the color of dirty straw and an intermittent beard. He was well known for his workaholic habits, but also for his jovial nature, and as such was much loved by the people of Ymir.

The train station being busy was nothing unusual, as Ymir had a thriving tourist trade. What was unusual was the passenger just disembarking, a powerfully-built man in blue with a dignified air that could only have come from a noble upbringing.

“Viscount Arseid,” Schwarzer said, offering a brief bow. “To what do I owe this honor?”

The Radiant Blademaster smiled. “There's no need for formalities, Baron Schwarzer. Differences in rank notwithstanding, as far as I'm concerned you and I are on equal footing, particularly in light of the Noble Faction's recent activities.”

Schwarzer allowed himself a grimace. “Perhaps we should discuss this in my office. I'll ask Lucia to make us some tea.”

“That would be welcome,” Arseid said, falling in step with him. “It has been a tiring journey.”

Baron Schwarzer's office was, like the rest of his home, on the simple side. His desk was situated in front of a set of large windows, a tapestry bearing the family crest adorned one wall, while an orbal rifle and a pair of crossed swords hung on the opposite. Fitting surroundings for such a man.

“You mentioned the Noble Faction,” he said when they were seated. “Do you have anything specific? I've heard some disturbing reports coming out of both Marquis Rogner's estate in Roer and the Schwarz-Drache Barrier, but in general Ymir has been left alone.”

Arseid sipped his tea. “As has Legram, doubtless for similar reasons. However, I'm not certain that will last. Did you hear what happened in the town of Celdic last month?”

Schwarzer snorted. “You mean Duke Albarea's idiocy? Yes, I've heard; my son Rean more or less tripped over some nefarious business there.”

“Indeed. A small thing on its own, but disquieting nonetheless.” Arseid folded his hands. “What happened in Celdic was too well-organized for mere petty thieves. I'm convinced there is something more at work here, hidden in the shadows, and linked to the Noble Faction.”

Schwarzer nodded grimly. “In his last letter, Rean mentioned the local provincial army detachment seemed to be complicit in the thefts and property damage.” He grimaced. “I can't say I trust the Reformists, either, but the RMP's intervention spared me a lot of grief.”

“Myself as well; my daughter Laura was also involved.” Arseid smiled faintly. “An interesting twist of fate, that they should end up as classmates.”

“There are worse fates,” Schwarzer said. “Rean's letters have been nothing short of glowing where Thors is concerned. It would appear sending him there was the right move after all. After that incident. . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head. “My apologies, but that is not my story to tell.”

Arseid waved a hand. “I quite understand. In any case, the two of them seem to have formed quite the bond.”

Something about the other man's tone brought Schwarzer up short. “Are you suggesting. . . .”

“Arranging a match? No.” Arseid shook his head. “At least not as things stand. Having said that, I do believe their relationship, whether it be friendship or budding romance, should be encouraged. It can only benefit all concerned.”

Schwarzer nodded slowly. “I think you may be right. All too right.”

It's going to be a long weekend. Rean looked in his mirror, double-checking to ensure his sword belt was properly seated. Machias isn't happy with me, he and Jusis are about ready to kill each other, and Fie is apathy incarnate. Dear Aidios, what did I do to deserve this?

There were disadvantages, he reflected sourly, to being the “heart” of Class VII, as Instructor Sara put it. Apparently, this included being saddled with the hard cases, since he was already well known for his willingness to lend a hand.

“Good morning, Rean.”

Well. At least he got to have a pleasant start to the day. “Morning, Laura,” he said, stifling a sigh. “I'll bet your field study goes better than mine.”

Her lip twitched. “I have the utmost confidence that you'll be able to keep them under control. Besides, Emma will be along, and she is pleasant company at least.”

“You have more confidence in me than I do,” Rean said. “That reminds me, you said you wanted a match with me at some point? How about our next free day; I have a feeling I'm going to need the stress relief.”

Laura smiled a bit wryly. “It would be my pleasure.”

Those words were just about all that sustained him when he walked into Class VII's common room. Jusis and Machias stood facing resolutely away from each other, their hostility almost palpable. The rest of the class were gathered around, all of them (save Fie, who looked bored as usual) visibly uneasy.

“G-Good morning,” Emma managed. “Did you sleep well?”

The temptation was strong to say he hadn't slept a wink because of the two stubborn idiots in front of them. That, however, would have been counterproductive to say the least. “As well as I could,” he allowed. “So, ah, are we ready to go?”

It was an innocent enough question. Innocent, however, didn't seem to matter just then, as it got an irritated growl out of Machias and a disdainful sniff from Jusis. Not unexpected, sadly, but also not a good sign. “Long weekend” looked to be an understatement of breathtaking proportions.

Then Machias proceeded to pour fuel on the fire. “Let's get one thing straight,” he said coldly. “You're my classmate, not my friend. I would appreciate if you not address me so casually as you seem wont to do.”

Stifling a sigh, Rean shook his head. “If that's what you want, fine.”

Jusis sniffed again. “Our class vice president is as stubborn as ever.”

It was like he'd just lit a fuse. Machias spun around, his face contorted with rage. “Say that again! I dare you!”

For a moment, Rean wished he was just a few years older. Just old enough to be able to go to the nearest bar and chug down a beer. Or ten. A hangover, he suspected, would be far less painful than having to put up with Jusis and Machias all weekend.

“Um, perhaps we should get going?” Emma suggested nervously.

Rean shrugged, resigned. “There's still time before the train leaves, but we don't really have much else to do.”

He couldn't decide if it was a blessing or a curse that the train station was just a few arge up the street from their dorm. Outside, Trista was just waking up; he managed a halfhearted wave for a couple of local kids he recognized. They were going to be having a lot more fun than he was.

Group B had gone on ahead, and were waiting when Rean's group caught up. “If memory serves, our destinations are roughly the same distance from Trista,” Laura remarked.

“Five hours by express train,” Emma confirmed. “We should arrive before noon.”

“I've never ridden a train that long,” Elliot said. “I'm kinda excited.”

That makes one of us. Ordinarily Rean wouldn't have minded such a long trip. His hometown of Ymir was much farther away, after all, and a long train ride gave him time to think. Unfortunately, quiet contemplation probably wasn't in the cards for this excursion.

“I'm amazed they aren't sick of it already,” Alisa whispered. If Jusis or Machias heard, they showed no sign.

Fie rolled her eyes. “It's getting tedious,” she muttered.

You have a gift for understatement, Fie.

Gaius offered a smile. “If anyone can do it, it's you, Rean.”

Running his left hand along his sheathed sword, Rean frowned. “Do what?”

“Get those two to make peace with each other,” Gaius said. “I couldn't do it, but I suspect you'll have a better chance.”

You are giving me far too much credit. In Rean Schwarzer's opinion, what Gaius was suggesting was the next best thing to impossible. His own initial friction with Alisa was one thing; embarrassing though it had been, it was in the end an accident. Jusis and Machias's differences were more fundamental, and deeply ingrained.

No help for it. Hearing the boarding call, Rean led Group A to the platform, at which point things went (in his opinion) from bad to worse, as he found himself sitting right next to Machias. The bespectacled student was almost resolutely ignoring him, eyes closed to avoid having to look at Jusis.

For his part, the other noble was staring out the window, his face unreadable. Beside him, Emma was visibly nervous, while Fie looked to have fallen asleep. Rean honestly envied her.

At length, Emma cleared her throat. “Um, perhaps we should review what we know about where we're going.”

Relieved at having something to latch onto, Rean nodded. “That's a good idea. Could you give us an overview, Jusis? You're from Bareahard, after all.”

Jusis grunted. “I'll oblige, if you wish. But are you sure you wouldn't rather hear it from the group's finest intellectual mind instead?” His voice dripped disdain. “I'm sure he'd be be able to give you a far more critical analysis, without the pro-noble bias I'm certain to inject.”

With a low growl, Machias glared at Jusis. “Are you suggesting I allow my views to cloud my ability to see things objectively!?”

Please, no. Can we at least have some peace on the train? For the sake of the other passengers if nothing else.

“Not at all,” Jusis said, smiling thinly. “After all, you were intelligent enough to score second place on the entrance exam. And you've spent your every waking moment since glued to a textbook, as if your life depended on it.” The thin smile grew thinner. “So I'm sure your knowledge is quite vast in terms of book smarts . . . even if it's lacking in every other respect.”

Machias practically leaped to his feet. “Why, you. . .!”

In that moment, Rean understood exactly why Instructor Sara had challenged those two to trial by combat, and deeply wished he could do the same. The mere thought of having to spend two whole days listening to them bicker was nothing short of a nightmare.

“Please, stop, both of you!” Emma protested.

Finally, a voice of reason! Rean glared at the disputants. “It's easy to see why you scored so miserably in last month's field study,” he said caustically. “It's a wonder you weren't brought in for remedial classes.”

His tone, so different from his usual geniality, brought all heads around. Except for Fie's, of course. “What was that!?” Machias snapped.

Rean held his gaze. “Last month, Group B got an 'E' on their—your—field study,” he reminded them. “If it had been a paper exam, it would have been a fail, a low one at that. Do you really want that to happen again?”

Deep inside, he had to admit it felt good to cut loose like that. Jusis and Machias's constant bickering had gotten to be a serious headache for the entire class; even Gaius, probably the most even-tempered of them, had started to show signs of exasperation. Rean doubted he could get them to make peace, but at the least he wasn't going to allow them to drag down the entire group's grades.

Apparently being forceful was just the right move; both at least seemed to calm down, just a little. “I hope you're not naively suggesting we put our differences aside and become best friends,” Jusis said.

Rean allowed himself a chuckle. “I'm not that stupid. Regardless, we were all chosen for Class VII in part because of those differences. We come from different backgrounds, so of course we're going to have different opinions and outlooks. And I'm sure we all have at least a few beliefs we're not willing to compromise on no matter what.” He shook his head. “That doesn't change the fact that for the next few days, we're part of the same group. We need to at least try to act like a team.”

Jusis looked thoughtful. “I was wondering what you were getting at.”

Predictably, Machias was far less restrained. “You have got to be joking!” he ground out. “I refuse to accept the idea that—”

“I'm not saying we all have to be friends,” Rean interrupted, “just that we're in the same group, working toward the same objective.” He sighed. “Let me put it another way. We're united against a common 'enemy'—Group B—and unless we want to lose to them, we have to work together.”

He could see from his classmates' expressions that his words had hit home. Thankfully, as he was already getting a headache from the ordeal.

At length, Jusis lifted his eyebrows. “I wouldn't have taken you for the competitive type,” he said mildly.

“Of course I am!” Rean said. “I care about winning and losing as much as anyone, and get just as frustrated when people hold me back!” He glanced at Emma. “I'm jealous of how good your grades are, all three of you. I feel like I'm losing the race, and have to struggle to catch up.” He grimaced. “And I'm incredibly frustrated at how badly we lost to Instructor Sara. I don't know what she went through to get so strong, but it's a fact. I just think we'd have done a little better if we'd been able to work together, and form effective combat links.”

From the silence that ensued, it was apparent the others, Jusis and Machias especially, had never even thought of it. Which Rean found more than a little exasperating; they were military academy students, for crying out loud! This should have been basic.

“You would've,” Fie said out of the blue. “Sara's only strong because she knows how to fight. If you'd been able to work together, you could've withstood her onslaught a little longer.” She almost smiled. “Maybe you wouldn't have won, but you wouldn't have really lost, either.”

Rean nodded, glad someone had gotten the point. “Exactly.”

It was enough to get a little peace, at least. Machias was still unhappy, no surprise, but he didn't seem to be simmering with rage anymore. Jusis was back to staring out the window, while Emma was looking at Rean with new respect. Fie, naturally, had fallen asleep.

“Alisa, Laura, and Elliot are in the same group as last time,” Emma said at length. “And Gaius seems like the type who can get along with anyone.”

“They'll be a strong team,” Fie agreed, one eye opening.

The thought had been preying on Rean's mind. “They'll be able to give their absolute best, no matter what comes their way. Really, if we don't do something about our shortcomings their score could be double ours, easily.”

Machias promptly flared up again. “All right, enough! It's not like I have a choice but to go along with your 'yay, team!' attitude, now, do I!?”

Jusis folded his arms. “I have no intention of cooperating with this farce, but nor do I intend to stand by and accept defeat.”

“. . .I'm willing to call a truce for the duration of this trip,” Machias said after a moment. “Agreed?”

Jusis smirked. “I find it distasteful, but I am more than capable of enduring such idiocy if I must.”

And there it went. Not perfect, but at least the worst appeared to have been averted. Rean leaned back in his seat, suddenly as tired as he'd been after facing that demonic baboon in Celdic. It was suddenly a lot harder to blame Instructor Sara for her drinking habits.

“Well. At least they'll try to cooperate now, right?” Emma whispered. “That's a significant improvement over last month.”

Rean winced. “If this is an improvement, I really don't want to know what happened in Parm.”

“Trust me, you don't,” Fie said. “I feel better now than I did then.”

The next hour or so was spent in relative silence. Rean, recalling an old military adage about sleeping whenever possible, almost followed Fie's example, but in the end his mind was buzzing too much. Despite certain issues with his group, he was looking forward to seeing Bareahard, which had a reputation as one of the most beautiful cities in the Empire. If it was anything like his time in Celdic, he was going to get to know the Verdant City very well.

“All right, here's what I can tell you,” Jusis said. “Bareahard is the most important city in Kreuzen Province. It has a population of approximately 300,000, making it large even by municipal standards. The hilly region surrounding the city has a large mink population, which are highly prized for their fur. Moreover, Kreuzen Province in general is famous for the quality of the gemstones mined in the region.”

That much Rean had seen firsthand; among his mother's small (by noble standards) collection of jewelry was a necklace of diamonds mined in Kreuzen Province.

Emma nodded. “I recall reading gems and fur are regarded as Bareahard's two main specialties.”

“Isn't there a part of the city devoted entirely to people who work with them?” Rean asked, looking at Jusis curiously.

“Artisans' Street in south Bareahard, yes,” Jusis said with a nod. “Large numbers of artisans gather there to prove their worth.”

Machias looked like he'd bitten something sour, but chimed in anyway. “There's a shop in Heimdallr that specializes in gems produced in Bareahard.” His lip twisted. “Of course, only the nobility and the filthy rich have any reason to patronize it.”

“Can't see myself going there,” Fie said, rousing from her nap. “Even if I had the mira, it's just not my style.”

“Which brings up something of which you are all aware, but cannot be stressed enough,” Jusis said. His lips compressed in a tight line. “Bareahard is at its heart a city of nobles. What has been said about it in that regard is no exaggeration.”

Knowing it from a book or news reports was one thing. Hearing it confirmed by a native was something else. Rean made a mental note to watch his step, and an extra note to keep a close eye on Machias. With the kind of problem he had with the nobility, things had the potential to go all kinds of wrong.

“The nobles aren't the majority of the population, though,” Emma said, frowning.

Jusis nodded. “True. However, from Artisans' Street to the enormous provincial army guard house, to the central plaza with its giant cathedral, to the airport designed to handle the largest of airships, Bareahard is a city that was developed with the nobility, and House Albarea in particular, at its center.”

Machias snorted. “I'm amazed you're able to discuss your family so objectively,” he said, his voice thick with damning-with-faint-praise scorn.

Please, Machias, not now.

“There's no point in denying the truth,” Jusis said with a fractional shrug. “As long as we're in Bareahard, you'd be well advised to keep your usual anti-noble vitriol to yourself.” He smiled thinly. “Unless you fancy becoming very friendly with the provincial army.”

“I-I know that!” Machias sputtered. “I can hold my tongue when I have to!”

Rean scrubbed his hands over his face. Just when he'd thought there was a chance for some calm, things had to flare up again. The sad thing was, he couldn't even tell who was in the wrong. No, the really sad thing was it was still an improvement.

You owe me big time for this, Instructor.

With nothing better to do, Rean first engaged Emma in conversation, then a game of Blade with Fie. At which point he was slaughtered as thoroughly as he had demolished Crow Armbrust just a week before. Fie's strategic acumen was nothing short of uncanny, and her near-total lack of facial expressions made her all but impossible to read.

It was a relief when they finally arrived. Glad of a chance to stretch his legs, Rean was struck by the sheer size of Bareahard Station. The layout was grossly similar to the train stations in Ymir, Celdic, and Trista, of course, but it had to be at least four or five times larger.

Jusis, he noticed, seemed oddly tense. A very strange reaction for someone newly returned to his hometown; had it been Ymir, Rean knew he would have been practically walking on air. Yet his fellow noble looked almost like a stranger, like someone who didn't really belong.

“Lord Jusis!” A quartet of purple-clad railroad employees rushed to greet them, bowing in unison. “Welcome back to Bareahard!”

Behind him, Rean heard Machias grunt. “I can't believe the station employees would abandon their duties just to greet him,” he muttered.

Curiously, Jusis seemed to share the sentiment. “I've returned here as a student of Thors Military Academy, to conduct a field study,” he said, his voice calm but with an edge to it. “I believe you were informed this manner of excessive welcome is neither necessary nor desired, were you not?”

A stray memory clicked, Jusis arguing with the family butler on arriving at Thors on their first day. Even then, it was clear he intensely disliked having people fawning over him.

The station employees clearly disagreed, as they were visibly taken aback. “W-Well, yes,” the most senior of them conceded. “But still, you are a child of House Albarea! If anything, we should be apologizing for not giving you an even greater welcome!”

“Please, allow me to carry your luggage,” another said. “It would be an honor to carry your classmates' belongings, as well.”

Jusis's patience was clearly wearing thin, but before he could respond, another voice interrupted. “That won't be necessary.”

The speaker was a tall man somewhere in his mid-twenties, clad in the green of House Albarea with a dark purple cape draped over his shoulders. He wore his blond hair long, tied in a neat braid, and his blue eyes sparkled with mirth, though there was something else lurking deep within.

In that instant, Jusis was transformed. Gone was the somewhat stuffy noble; in his place was a teenager who had just received a major shock. “R-Rufus!?” he said incredulously.

The older man smiled. “My beloved brother, what a pleasure to see you again. To think, it's been three months; where does the time go?”

Rean may have spent most of his life in the middle of nowhere, but he wasn't that ignorant. The newcomer's warm greeting, coupled with the employees' reaction, meant there was only one person he could be: Rufus Albarea, elder son and heir to Duke Helmut Albarea, lord of Kreuzen Province.

“I didn't expect to reunite with you so soon,” Rufus continued, “but I'm certainly delighted at the opportunity.”

“As am I,” Jusis said, his tone warmer than Rean had ever heard it. “You seem well.”

Nodding, Rufus looked past his brother. “I presume these are your classmates, the other members of Class VII.”

“That's correct,” Emma said, looking a bit stunned.

Rean didn't blame her in the slightest. “You know about us?”

“Of course,” Rufus said, inclining his head. “I've read all about you in my brother's letters.” He smiled. “Where are my manners? My name is Rufus Albarea. Jusis, as you no doubt gathered, is my younger brother.” A soft chuckle escaped him. “No need to hide your shock. It's hardly surprising that my brother has never once mentioned me. He is, after all, quite easily embarrassed.”

And with that, everything Rean thought he knew about Jusis Albarea went right out the window. The very idea of his stuffy classmate experiencing embarrassment seemed to defy some obscure law of nature. It was just impossible to wrap his mind around.

“W-What?” Jusis stammered. “T-That's not. . . .”

Fie looked almost amused. “He's being toyed with,” she said quietly.

“I can hardly believe my ears,” Machias said. “What happened to the arrogant young upstart we've come to know and . . . mostly tolerate?”

Rean almost laughed at Machias's choice of words. He couldn't disagree, though, not with Jusis standing there looking for all the world like Elliot had on their first day at Thors.

“But I digress,” Rufus said. “This really isn't the time for idle chatter. I came to escort you to your lodgings for the weekend.”

Jusis stiffened. “You mean?”

“The car is parked just outside,” Rufus said with a chuckle. He spread his arms grandly. “Welcome to the Verdant City of Bareahard, ladies and gentlemen of Class VII. I do hope you enjoy your stay.”

Stepping out into the streets of Bareahard was an eye-opener. Where Alisa's hometown of Roer was basically a giant factory with houses tacked on, and the capital Heimdallr vaguely reminiscent of what Rean had heard of Crossbell, Bareahard exuded a certain elegance, as befitted a city of nobles.

The waiting car was, if Rean wasn't mistaken, the same one that had brought Jusis to Thors, or at least the same model. The plush interior made him vaguely uncomfortable, fearing that he might ruin the upholstery simply by sitting down. Fie, he couldn't help noticing, had no such compunctions.

A bigger surprise awaited them once they were settled. “You assigned our tasks?” Rean said, looking at Rufus in considerable surprise.

“Indeed,” the older man confirmed. “I selected them on behalf of my father. Please, take these.”

There was something odd, Rean reflected, at receiving a school assignment from someone of Rufus Albarea's stature. “Thank you.”

Rufus smiled, just a bit wryly. “It's really an amazing coincidence. Who would have thought my younger brother would become classmates with the son of Baron Schwarzer.”

Startled, Rean leaned forward. “You know my father, sir?” Being acquainted with Viscount Arseid was one thing, but to have had dealings with one of the Four Great Houses. . . .

“Certainly,” Rufus said. “He's an old acquaintance of mine. Many years ago, I accompanied him to a falconry competition held in the suburbs of Heimdallr. He taught me much about the practice and it's etiquette; this was before you were taken into his family, of course. Is he doing well these days?”

Regaining some of his equilibrium, Rean smiled. “He is, and he's still an avid hunter.”

“Splendid!” Rufus's gaze shifted. “And you must be the son of Governor Regnitz.”

Hurriedly, Rean brought one hand up to hide a smile. The look on Machias's face on being singled out by the heir of a Great House was priceless. It was as if his general hatred of the aristocracy was warring against the need to be polite to their patron for the weekend. Jusis, Rean couldn't help noticing, appeared just as amused.

Fortunately, politeness won out. “I am,” Machias said, inclining his head respectfully. “I'm surprised you knew.”

“Indeed,” Rufus said. “I see your father quite often while dealing with official business in the capital. Though we obviously have very different views, he has given me excellent advice on more than one occasion.” He smiled. “It must be fate that you, too, would end up in my brother's class. Please do try and get along with him.”

Even Emma appeared to be struggling to hold back laughter at Machias's expression. “I, ah, I will consider the . . . possibility with an open mind.”

Letting Machias off the hook for the moment, Rufus turned his attention to Emma and Fie. “And I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge our two beautiful ladies. No doubt your presence brings a touch of elegance to my brother's academic life.”

Personally, Rean was of the opinion that “elegance” and “Fie Claussell” were, if not outright mutually exclusive, at least a very poor fit. Emma, certainly, she conducted herself with a level of poise that rivaled Laura. Fie, by contrast, was almost relentlessly practical, and showed little concern for appearances beyond normal hygiene.

“I'm honored you would say so,” Emma said, somehow managing a bow.

Fie shrugged. “It's nothing like that, really.”

Beginning to show signs of exasperation, Jusis sighed. “Can we please stop discussing me?” He looked at his brother through slightly narrowed eyes. “When you say 'lodgings,' you can't possibly mean. . . .”

Rufus positively beamed. “Need you even ask? Naturally, you'll all be staying at the Albarea family mansion.”

Rean felt a sudden chill. He'd only ever seen one Great House's family seat, Marquis Rogner's estate in Roer, but the thought of spending even a couple of nights in such a place was intimidating to say the least. The rustic surroundings of Celdic had been much more to his taste.

“I jest,” Rufus said. “Father's instructions were that I do with you as I wish. And since you would doubtless be uncomfortable staying at home for a school assignment, I've head a hotel room prepared for you. That way you'll be able to more easily concentrate on your field study, no?”

Visibly relieved, Jusis smiled. “I appreciate it, thank you.”

Their destination, the Hotel Esmeralda, was quite luxurious, more so than practically any home in Ymir. Still, Rean couldn't help wondering at Jusis's seeming revulsion at the idea of staying at his home. Was all not well in House Albarea? Rufus was friendly enough, but Rean knew pretty much nothing about the Duke. Unlike Laura, who was known to gush about her father, Jusis seldom spoke of his at all, and Rean doubted it was because of his standoffishness.

Rufus left immediately after they disembarked, saying he had business in Heimdallr. No surprise; as heir to a Great House, he doubtless had a great deal on his plate at any given time. Rean was only heir to a barony, but even that was enough to keep a man insanely busy.

“So that was Rufus Albarea,” Machias said, folding his arm. “They say he's the ace of the Noble Faction; meeting him, it's easy to see why.”

“He seemed rather charming,” Emma commented, “projecting both intelligence and kindness.”

Rean nodded absently. “He even made a point of showing consideration to my father, even though Dad's a low-ranking noble.”

“And he effortlessly thrust Jusis into the role of cute little brother,” Fie added, a faint smile on her face.

Jusis grunted. “I would have preferred you not to have seen that.” He frowned. “Still, it's surprising he would leave Bareahard immediately after we arrived.”

Something in his tone. . . . “Is something the matter, Jusis?” Rean asked.

Jusis shook his head. “Nothing that concerns you. We should check in at the hotel and begin our work.”

The Hotel Esmeralda was every bit as luxurious as it appeared. Clearly the place catered primarily to the upper crust, be it nobility, high-ranking army officers, or the movers and shakers of Erebonian finance. For all his aristocratic background, Rean couldn't help feeling a bit intimidated.

To Jusis's apparent irritation, the hotel manager tried to pamper the lot of them, but Jusis shut him down quickly enough. At leas this time they had separate rooms for the boys and girls; a stunt like Instructor Sara's in Celdic was unlikely to fly in Bareahard.

The day's assignments looked normal enough, save that one request was from a noble. Rean almost felt excited at the monster extermination request; taking his sword to something big and nasty sounded like just the way to bleed off his accumulated stress.

“One request from a noble, and one from an artisan,” Emma remarked. “Should at least keep things interesting.”

Machias tapped the monster request. “What do they mean by 'report to Aurochs Fort on this one?”

“Aurochs Fortress is situated on the other side of Aurochs Canyon,” Jusis explained, his voice for once lacking its usual haughtiness. “It's a provincial army base originally constructed in the Middle Ages. The request likely comes from there.”

“Sounds like trouble to me,” Machias said.

After what had gone down in Celdic, Rean was inclined to agree. Anything involving the Kreuzen Provincial Army made him acutely uneasy. Still, orders were orders. “We should save that one for last, just in case.”

Jusis nodded. “I would advise so regardless; the path through the canyon is long and treacherous. We should complete pour other tasks first, lest we run out of time.”

“Right,” Rean said. “Let's get moving; we don't want Group B to beat us.”

Their first destination, as Jusis's suggestion, was a restaurant not far from the station, were a low-ranking noble of his acquaintance was a regular. It seemed a certain type of bath salt was currently in vogue among the upper crust, and he wanted Class VII to obtain some for him. Which, naturally, involved trudging down a monster-infested path.

Promising the man that they would get his bath salts, Jusis led them to Artisans' Street. Oddly, he seemed to be more at ease among the various craftsmen. Or perhaps not so oddly, if he reaction to the effusive greetings he'd received earlier was anything to go by.

“Turner's Jewelers,” he said, pushing the door open. “One of the best in the Empire.”

The clerk was busy with a customer, but paused when he saw Rean and the others. “Judging by the uniform, you must be the students from Thors—of course, Lord Jusis is with you. I take it you've come regarding the request?”

“We have, Bruc,” Jusis acknowledged. “However, I would appreciate that no special treatment be given on my account. If our timing is inconvenient, we could return at a later hour.”

Bruc shook his head, smiling. “On the contrary, we were just discussing you.”

Rean frowned. “Discussing us? You mean. . .?”

“Of course,” Bruc said. “If you would allow me to explain.” He nodded at his customer. “This is Bengt, a tourist currently staying in Bareahard. The request that brought you here was his.”

Bengt, a slim, well-dressed young man, nodded. “Y-You see, I'm getting married in the near future, and I came to inquire about getting a wedding ring made. The artisans of Bareahard are renowned far and wide for their skill with gems, so it seemed an ideal choice.”

Jusis rubbed his chin. “So you've made what I presume to be a substantial journey, in search of the perfect ring.”

“There's no denying the quality of the jewels here. . . .” Machias said.

“. . .But they don't come cheap,” Fie finished.

Bengt sighed. “Exactly. Buying one with my income . . . isn't very plausible. Especially a septium ring. Realizing how impulsive I'd been, I almost gave up, until I heard about the Dryad's Tear.”

Bruc nodded. “A precious stone might be out of his budget, but there are stones just as beautiful but a whole lot cheaper. 'Semi-precious' stones, if you will, and the Dryad's Tear is one of them.”

Emma perked up at that. “I've heard of it. If I recall correctly, it's made from a very particular tree sap that hardens like stone after being exposed to air for a long time. And it has a translucent shine to it that people say is easily the equal of septium.”

“That's the one!” Bruc confirmed.

Rean lifted an eyebrow at his classmate. “You're an expert on jewels, then?”

For some reason, the question left her quite flustered. “It's just a personal interest of mine.”

Best to leave it at that. “Anyway,” Rean said, “I'm guessing our job is to find this Dryad's Tear.”

“Right,” Bruc said. “Luckily, a lot of the right trees grow along the North Kreuzen Highway, Still, it may be only semi-precious, but it's still a rare gem, so you might have trouble finding one.”

Business as usual for Class VII. Difficult, certainly, but far from impossible. They had someone who knew the area well, and another who would recognize a Dryad's Tear on sight. Long odds, but not insurmountable.

“It may not be quite the challenge our dear friend here has made it out to be, you know!”

Startled, Rean spun on his heel. A tall man in white was standing by a display case. His hair was a blue-tinged silver, tied back in a ponytail with a fringe to either side of his face, vaguely similar to Laura. His bearing suggested some connection to the aristocracy, but Rean didn't recognize him.

“The innocent wood nymph's tear, you say,” the man went on. “How would you respond if I told you I saw one with my own eyes mere moments ago?”

Such knowledge could certainly be helpful, if he could be trusted. Rean wasn't so sure; it seemed far too convenient to be a mere coincidence. Something about that guy bugged him in a way he couldn't quite define.

“Who's this guy?” Machias muttered.

“Beats me,” Rean whispered back. “Do you know him, Jusis?”

Jusis shook his head minutely. “I can't say I recall meeting him before, no.”

The man in white smiled. “Good gracious, how terribly impolite of me not to introduce myself before speaking!” He offered a theatrical bow. “My name is Baron Bleublanc. It's a true pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He waved a hand at the display case. “From paintings, sculptures, and the finest of arts to the most delicately detailed crafts, I am a connoisseur and lover of beauty, craftsmanship, and artistry in all their many splendid forms.”

Rean blinked. “I-I see,” he managed. Just what is up with this guy?

“But that's enough about myself!” Bleublanc said. “You are seeking a Dryad's Tear, no?”

“Um, that's right,” Machias said, his normal hatred of nobility for the moment offset by the sheer weirdness of the moment.

Emma tilted her head. “You say you saw one 'moments ago'? Are you certain?”

“My dear lady, I would never dream of lying about matters of beauty! I beheld the light you seek on the northern highway, of that I am certain.” Bleublanc shrugged. “And yet I must confess my knowledge of the area is not so great that I would be able to share its exact location.” Something twinkled in his eye. “Though perhaps that's as it should be. After all, a brilliant light only has meaning when one grasps it with his own two hands.”

Fie made a skeptical sound. “Weirdo sounds like one of the upper-class students at Thors,” she said under her breath. “Second year, I forget the guy's name.”

Jusis grunted. “I believe you're thinking of Vincent Florald. True, he's . . . eccentric, but not as off-putting as this Bleublanc fellow.”

“Got me there,” Fie conceded.

Rean covered a smile. “Well, we do appreciate the information,” he said. “May I ask why you're telling us all this?”

Bleublanc laughed. “Perhaps it's the spirit of inquisitiveness that drives you to seek a beauty mere mira cannot buy. It moves me so, and being the generous man that I am, I deigned to extend an olive branch. Is that . . . sufficient enough reason for you?”

It wasn't, but it was also clearly the best they were going to get. “Y-Yeah,” Rean said, taken aback.

“We'll know if he's telling the truth soon enough,” Fie said.

Jusis nodded, still eying Bleublanc mistrustfully. “We do need to get going. We can follow his . . . nonspecific lead, or disregard it as we choose.”

“Good day to you, then,” the baron said with a hearty laugh.

Weirdo.

“Okay, we'd better set up our links now,” Rean said as they set out on the northern highway. He pursed his lips. “Fie, why don't we try it.”

The silver-haired girl shrugged. “Sure, I'm game.”

Not exactly enthusiastic, but better than the apathy she usually displayed. “Okay, for the rest. . . .” Rean trailed off, already feeling a headache coming on.

Emma, Aidios bless her, came to the rescue. “I suggest Jusis and I try linking,” she said. “Our fighting styles are complimentary, and. . . .” She trailed off in turn, looking at Machias uneasily.

Thankfully, Machias didn't appear offended. “I'm fine going solo for now,” he said.

“Right,” Rean said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Is that okay with you, Jusis?”

“I have no objections.” As ringing an affirmation as one could hope for under the circumstances.

Deciding not to press his luck, Rean drew his sword and took point, Fie trotting along beside him. It was fortunate they made a point of setting up their links beforehand, as they were attacked almost as soon as they passed the city gate. He and Fie reacted almost in unison, his sword bisecting some kind of mobile plant creature while her gun-swords barked.

Machias, for all his complaining, was all business. He knocked down a pair of flying monsters with two precisely timed shotgun blasts, and felled a third with an earth art. Not having to attempt a link with Jusis, Rean reflected, probably helped.

Speaking of Jusis, he and Emma did seem to be working well together. The young nobleman, already quick on his feet, moved with almost blinding speed, empowered by Emma's support abilities. His elegant sword darted out twice, three times, chopping another of the plant creatures apart.

Fie appeared more animated, for lack of a better term, than Rean had previously seen her. She appeared to relish their encounters with the various monsters, more in her element than she ever was in the classroom. Rean couldn't help wondering just how she'd gotten so skilled.

Regardless, after a bit of a hike they found what they were looking for. The hardened tree sap glistened in the afternoon sun, naturally drawing the eye.

“I can see why it's considered on par with septium,” Rean said, eying the Dryad's Tear admiringly. “Any idea how we get it off?”

“Allow me,” Emma said. Rean couldn't quite see what she did, but a moment later they had the Dryad's Tear in hand.
The trip back to Bareahard was fairly straightforward, albeit marred by Jusis and Machias sniping at each other. By the time they got back, Rean was about ready to smack them both; was it really too much to ask, he wondered, to have some time to just enjoy the scenery?

Stifling his annoyance, he stepped into Turner's Jewelers, and immediately sensed something very off. Bruc and Bengt were much less animated than when Group A had left, almost depressed, even. “Um, is something wrong?”

Bruc sighed. “Could you . . . give us the item?”

Wishing he could figure out what on earth had changed, Rean obediently passed over the Dryad's Tear. He expected at least a little excitement at the result, but was met with only melancholy.

“What is taking so long!? If you have what I asked for, hurry up and give it to me!”

And there was the answer. A middle-aged man in purple, with the kind of haughty bearing that proclaimed him as the kind of noble Rean had always gone out of his way not to be. This particular noble evidently enjoyed throwing his weight around.

“Count Gorti,” Jusis murmured, low enough that only Rean could hear. “Arrogant far beyond his station, and almost fanatically loyal to my father. Exactly the kind of noble Regnitz detests, and for once I don't blame him.”

The count let out a harrumph. “Honestly, we don't have all day! This is why you commoners never get anywhere in life!”

Almost the only thing that allowed Rean to maintain a grip on his temper was the need to restrain Machias from exploding. Even Fie was showing some expression, at least for those who knew her; she was staring at Gorti with obvious contempt.

With an air of resignation, Bruc stepped around the counter and bowed his head. “Here it is, my liege,” he said, passing over the Dryad's Tear.

What the hell is going on here?

“I can confirm this is indeed a Dryad's Tear,” the count's maid said. “I imagine it will be a bit hard, but as it is nothing more than petrified sap, you should be able to consume it without worry.”

Consume!? Did I hear that right!?
“All right, then,” Count Gorti said, and to Group A's collective shock, popped the Dryad's Tear in his mouth.

It was possibly the most bizarre thing any of them had seen since enrolling, a Count of the Empire, nonchalantly eating a gemstone. It would have been hilarious, especially when the count frantically called for water, if it wasn't so infuriating after the effort they'd put into their assignment.

“Scum,” Fie muttered.

Machias, of course, was rather less restrained. “Just what the hell do you think you're doing!?”

Count Gorti merely sneered. “I suggest you watch your tongue when speaking to someone of higher rank, commoner,” he said, and sniffed. “This time, however, I will let it pass, but you would do well to mind your manners in the future. If you were to truly anger me, your life could be cut short, very short indeed.”

Not how it works even in Bareahard, my lord, Rean thought acidly. Not even the head of a Great House can order a summary execution.

Jusis sighed, visibly restraining himself from rolling his eyes. “I think you are the one who needs to mind your manners,” he said coolly.

“And just who are—L-L-Lord Jusis!?” Gorti stammered, his face losing some of its color. “W-What are you doing in a place like this!?”

“That does not concern you,” Jusis said, his voice cooling further. “However, we went to great pains to find a Dryad's Tear for that man there.” He nodded at Bengt. “And I am most interested in hearing what, exactly, made you feel you had the right to consume it.”

Gorti swallowed. “B-But Lord Jusis, I legally purchased that stone from him! I have done nothing improper here!”

Jusis shifted his gaze. “Is this true?”

Bengt sighed. “It is. He agreed to give me a sum of mira in exchange for the tear.”

“See?” Gorti said. “Thus the stone was my property, to do with as I wished!”

Irritating in the extreme, but there was nothing to be done. Though it seemed likely the sale wasn't exactly voluntary; Count Gorti seemed to be just the sort who would pressure a “mere commoner” into selling. It was enough to make Rean almost sympathize with Machias's hatred of the nobility.

Emma raised a hand. “Um, may I ask why you ate it?”

It was the count's maid who replied. “The Dryad's Tear is used in Eastern herbal medicine, as it is said to possess a number of useful properties,” she explained.

“Herbal medicine?” Machias repeated.

Now it made sense, in a twisted sort of way. “A popular variety of alternative medicine practiced in Eastern lands,” Rean said.

Fie's eyes narrowed. “What 'useful properties' does it have?”

“Mainly it is a nutritional supplement,” the maid answered. “But there are those who believe it can also prevent or at least slow the effects of aging.”

So it was a matter of vanity. Rean covered a grimace of distaste; clearly Count Gorti was a typical strutting peacock of a noble. No wonder the Reformists were gaining traction in the capital.

“Utterly ludicrous,” Jusis said with a snort.

Gorti seemed to recover a bit of his poise. “B-Be that as it may, it is my prerogative! And now that the deed is done, I have no reason to remain here any longer. If you will excuse us, Lord Jusis.”

The look on Jusis's face suggested he'd bitten something sour. “Very well, please leave.”

Well, that could have gone better. Rean had just met a noble he instantly disliked more than any of the upper-class students at Thors. Even Patrick Hyarms had something resembling manners, for all his open disdain for commoners.

“I . . . apologize for making a scene,” Machias said, wincing a little.

Jusis sniffed. “Ineffective at controlling your temper, as usual.”

Bengt shook his head before Machias could explode again. “No, I should apologize for making you watch that without a word of explanation, especially after all the trouble you went through to get it for me.” He sighed. “Everything there was on the level. He did legitimately purchase it, though considering he's a noble—a count no less—I couldn't exactly refuse. The situation may be changing in Heimdallr, but deference to those of higher class is still the rule where the chancellor's influence doesn't reach.”

“I thought that might be it,” Machias said darkly.

Bengt shrugged unhappily. “As for the ring, I'm going to use the mira as a deposit and buy one locally. I'm really sorry for putting you all through this.” He turned to leave. “Goodbye, and thank you.”

A soft laugh alerted them to another presence. Baron Bleublanc, it seemed, had decided to return for the finale. “I was watching, curious to see what manner of compelling drama might unfold, but alas, all I witnessed was that farce!”

Rean jumped, just a little. “How long has he been here?”

Bleublanc spread his hands. “I heard from the proprietor of this fine establishment that you're students here for a field study, no? I hope you'll forgive me for saying so, but I believe it is these setbacks in life that make it truly beautiful to be alive. That comedy of errors may have been tough to endure, but your struggle against injustice was simply breathtaking!”

Rean blinked. “Um, pardon?”

The older man sighed. “Alas, I must bit you adieu, for my search can never rest ere the ultimate beauty is unearthed. I do pray we'll have the opportunity to meet again; until then, fare thee well, students!” He bowed and was out the door an instant later.

Watching the baron go, Rean finally shook his head. “That was weird. Oh, well.” He jerked his head at the door. “Let's go kill a monster.”

Aurochs Canyon reminded Rean very strongly of home. The terrain was much more rugged than the Kreuzen Highway, albeit not to the extent of the Eisengrad Range near Ymir. Modern orbal lights lined the roadway, but there was still something timeless about the place, a feeling of an ancient power that slept beneath the stone. Or maybe he was imagining things.

“We've now crossed into Aurochs Canyon,” Jusis said. “On the other side is Aurochs Fort, where the provincial army is stationed.”

“Which means our target is somewhere along this path,” Rean said. “The most logical approach would be to deal with the monster first, then continue on to the fort.” He looked up as they started off. “That bridge looks like it dates back to the Middle Ages.”

“It does,” Jusis confirmed. “It's been there for about seven hundred years, if memory serves.”

Making it one of the oldest structures in the Empire. This kind of thing was why Rean was already coming to relish their field studies, despite the complications. Reading about it in a book was one thing; seeing it with your own eyes was something else. Briefly he envied Laura, whose home was downright steeped in Erebonian history.

There were, of course, monsters. Probably the most dangerous were a type that looked like a giant praying mantis. Rean very nearly lost his head to such a creature, surviving only because he happened to slip. Before the bug could reorient, Fie was there, driving her gun-swords deep into its thorax.

Homicidal turtles came their way next, the first of them promptly blown backward by Machias's shotgun. It was too tough for a single blast to really injure it, but that was what Emma's orbal staff was for. One blinding flash of light later, and it was neutralized.

Their real target was on a small plateau. It had a mostly crustacean look to it, but for some reason its lower limbs ended in hooves. What really concerned them, however, was the pair of very sharp-looking claws on its forelimbs. One wrong move, and any one of them could be snapped in half.

“That one could put up a fight,” Fie said.

Rean nodded. “I think you and I should stay linked for now; we can't afford missteps.”

“Ja.”

Behind him, he heard Jusis speaking in a low voice. “Regnitz. . . .”

“I know,” Machias said. “We have to form a proper link this time.”

Well, well, maybe they're making progress after all. “All right,” Rean said. “Emma, drop back and provide support. They need a chance to make this work.”

Emma nodded. “Got it.”

Rean drew his sword. “Here we go!”

The monster was quicker than it looked. Rean ducked under a claw swipe and responded with a slash of his own. As it bellowed in obvious pain, Fie swooped in, bounded off the spine of Rean's tachi, and slashed the monster twice across its flank. It knocked her flying, but she rolled with the blow and came up on her feet, Emma already there with a healing art.

Looking good.

Or at least it was until he saw Jusis and Machias. They seemed to be trying, but to little avail. Individually, they were as skilled as ever, but it was obvious the link wasn't working properly. Half the time it didn't seem to be working at all, their coordination was so bad.

Then Machias took a glancing blow, and both staggered. The reason was plain: their attempt at a combat link had failed.

And the blasted monster still had some fight left. Suppressing a curse, Rean aimed a slash at its lower leg, while Fie danced around to the rear, slicing and shooting whenever she saw an opening. Emma had moved to support Jusis and Machias while they regained some semblance of equilibrium.

The monster let out a truly earsplitting roar; Rean and Fie had managed to strike a weak point at nearly the same instant. It staggered, swayed, and toppled forward. From all appearances, the fight was over.

Rean almost fell to his knees, catching himself barely in time. That battle should have gone a lot more smoothly; it was obvious he and Fie had a high compatibility rating, Emma's support was at least as good as Elliot's, and Jusis and Machias were highly skilled. There was no reason for it to have been so difficult.

“That was rough,” Rean finally said, sheathing his blade.

“We did win,” Emma pointed out. “That counts for something.”

Fie shook her head. “Only just.”

You said it, Fie.

He suddenly felt cold, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Knowing exactly what he was going to see, he turned to find Machias and Jusis glaring at each other. So much for trying to cooperate; at this rate they were going to kill each other.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Jusis Albarea!?” Machias demanded. “Why did you sever the link!?”

Jusis's blue eyes were icy cold. “Don't even think of trying to place the blame on me, Machias Regnitz,” he bit out. “It was you who severed the link!”

Rean couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh, cry, or draw his sword and slice both idiots to pieces. From the exasperated look on her face, Fie was leaning very much toward the third option. Emma, for her part, looked more apprehensive than anything else.

Oblivious to the others, Jusis and Machias grabbed each other by the collar. “You said you'd cooperate, but you just couldn't do it, could you!?” Machias snarled. “You just couldn't bring yourself to work with a commoner like me! You nobles are truly beyond redemption, rotten through and through!”

Jusis's lip curled. “You asinine little. . . . Why can't you see this is born of your own prejudice and narrow-mindedness!?”

“All right, enough!” Rean snapped, thoroughly fed up with the whole thing.

“Stay out of this!” Machias shot back. “This is our problem!”

Jusis bared his teeth. “Why don't we settle this right now? I'll show you how much better I am!”

Dammit! Rean wanted nothing more than to bash their heads together. Unfortunately, they had another problem; their target wasn't quite dead after all, and had apparently decided the pair of arguing blockheads made for easy prey. With no other option, Rean lunged forward and knocked them aside.

Pain lanced through his right shoulder, and he fell to one knee. Behind him, he heard Emma's shocked cry, and Fie taking another flying leap. There was a wet slicing sound, a double bang, and the monster they'd been sent to eliminate once again fell to the ground, definitely dead this time.

Rean managed a smile. “Nice work, Fie,” he gasped.

“Rean, are you all right!?” Emma said, crouching beside him.

The pain meant very little in light of one simple fact: Jusis and Machias were no longer at each other's throats. Instead, both were looking at him with a mixture of concern and guilt. Inwardly, Rean couldn't help smiling; if it got his classmates finally working together, it was worth a little pain.

“Are you injured?” Jusis asked quietly.

Rean shook his head. “It's just a scratch. I've had worse.” He smiled ruefully. “I was sure we'd killed it, too. Shouldn't have let my guard down.”

“I shouldn't have, either,” Fie said, more emotion in her voice than Rean could recall hearing before. “But it's down for good this time.”

Emma was peering at his shoulder. “I should administer first aid on that 'scratch.' You'll need to take off your jacket.”

No use arguing. Rean obeyed, allowing Emma to treat the wound. It really wasn't that bad, but he knew he was going to be sore for a while. His own fault for getting careless, he supposed. And he called himself a Thors student.

Machias hung his head. “I'm sorry, Rean,” he said quietly.

“It was our fault you were injured,” Jusis agreed, unusually somber.

Rean shook his head. “Don't worry about it. It wouldn't have happened if I'd been paying attention. I'm just glad neither of you were hurt.”

“You should rest that shoulder for a while,” Fie said. “The rest of us can pick up the slack.”

“Agreed,” Emma said firmly. “I strongly recommend you fall back for the time being.”

There was no arguing with her. Emma had shown the strongest aptitude in Instructor Beatrix's classes, which effectively made her the team medic. Besides which, his shoulder hurt enough that Rean doubted he would be able to handle his sword properly for a while.

“Let's get moving,” he said. “We need to inform the provincial army.”

“Aurochs Fort isn't far,” Jusis said, “but we need to hurry if we wish to return to Bareahard by nightfall.”

Favoring his injured shoulder, Rean pushed himself upright. His master, he knew, would be shaking his head, both at the injury and how it came about. Though not against self-sacrifice per se, Master Ka-fai had always thought Rean tended to go a little far.

“Um, Rean?”

He paused. “Emma?”

For some reason, she was looking intently at his shoulder. Bending close, she brought her hands up and murmured something Rean didn't quite catch. Almost immediately, he felt the pain begin to recede, though there was still a definite ache.

“What did you just do?”

Emma looked up. “Nothing. I just wanted to check the bandage. It looks fine, but you should still move that arm as little as possible. No sense making your injury worse!”

There was definitely something she wasn't telling him, but he let it drop for now. Prying would have been the height of hypocrisy, after what he'd gotten into with Machias. Besides, it wasn't like she meant any harm, quite the contrary.

Walking, at least, wasn't a problem. Rean stayed alert, but otherwise took the time to enjoy the scenery. To his relief, he didn't seem to be holding them back any; the few monsters who tried to waylay them were easily dispatched. Fie, oddly, seemed to be sticking close to him, almost like a bodyguard.

“How's your injury?” Jusis asked when they reached a bridge.

“We can slow down if you need it,” Machias said.

Rean shook his head. “Nah, no reason to worry. The bleeding's stopped, and it doesn't even hurt much anymore. Emma's first-aid skills really are top-notch.”

“There's no shame in admitting it if you're in pain,” Jusis said, apparently unconvinced.

Which was still an improvement. “Thanks, Jusis,” Rean said with a smile, “but I'm really not kidding. It's kind of incredible, a bit of soreness at worst.” He looked at Emma. “Did you rub some kind of special ointment on?”

Once again, she seemed oddly flustered. “N-No—I mean, yes, of course! I used a special kind of medicine I brought from back home. I believe my grandmother made it with a combination of various medicinal herbs.”

“That makes sense,” Rean said. “My old master did something similar.”

Fie tilted her head. “I kind of want to know more.”

If Emma had gotten any more flustered, she likely would have burst into flame. “No, no, there's nothing more to tell! I don't know the recipe or anything. Actually, I was more impressed with you, Fie! You made defeating that monster look easy!”

Definitely a deflection, but one that nonetheless caught Rean's interest. “Now that you mention it. . . .”

“You were . . . unnaturally agile,” Jusis said, eying their younger classmate curiously.

“It's not the first time, either,” Machias put in. “Are you really two years younger than the rest of us?”

Unperturbed, Fie shrugged. “Yup. I'm just used to combat is all.”

Which raised far more questions than it answered. Rean could think of a number of ways a fifteen-year-old girl could have gotten used to combat, not a one of them good. However, it was not the time or place to press the issue; they still had to reach the fort.

His first thought when he saw Aurochs Fort was how big it was. He'd seen Marquis Rogner's stronghold at the Schwarz-Drache Barrier, but even that paled by comparison to the Kreuzen Provincial Army's bastion. At least half again the size, with probably far more troops stationed there.

“Didn't expect this,” Fie commented, looking around. “They modified an older fort, a lot.”

Jusis, for some odd reason, seemed very tense. Whatever it was, he didn't feel like talking, curtly reminding them of the need to report in. Deciding it would be best to let the matter drop for the time being, Rean followed, all the while wondering just what had his classmate so on edge.

The familiar roar of a large-scale orbal engine drew their eyes to a rail bridge above. “Isn't that a freight train from Bareahard?” Emma said.

Rean felt an odd crawling sensation. “It's carrying tanks, heavily-armored ones at that.”

“Yup,” Fie agreed. “Looks like the latest model from the Reinford Company, the Achtzehn.”

His back unnaturally stiff, Jusis ignored them, striding purposefully toward the guard post. From their reaction, the guards had never expected mere students would be able to defeat the monster that had been plaguing the area, though they didn't dare express it too openly.

“Wait,” Machias said just before they stepped past the gate. “What is the meaning of this?” When Jusis gave no answer, the bespectacled student pressed on. “I could understand if this was on the border with Crossbell or the Republic, but why does the provincial army need state-of-the-art tanks so deep in Imperial territory!? Not to mention anti-air defenses and fortifications everywhere. It's insane!”

“He's got a point,” Fie said.

Privately, Rean agreed, but he hadn't wanted to bring it up when Jusis was so tense. He should have expected Machias to make an issue of it.

“. . .Can you really be so ignorant?” Jusis's voice was oddly quiet. “This is the reality of the Empire today.” He turned to face them, his expression unreadable. “Tensions between Osborne's Reformist Faction and our Noble Faction are increasing day by day. Granted, it's been happening mostly beneath the surface, away from the eyes of the general public. But this is just one of many manifestations of this conflict.”

Rean took a deep breath. “I've heard rumors; my dad was complaining about Marquis Rogner when I left Ymir back in March. But this. . . .”

“Undoubtedly it was my father who ordered the additional fortifications,” Jusis said. “I have no intention of commenting on that decision.” His tone and posture, however, spoke volumes; he was not happy with it at all. “But if you wish to lodge a complaint, I'll be happy to listen.” One blonde eyebrow rose slightly.

For once, Machias didn't seem inclined to argue the point. “No, it's fine,” he said with a brief shake of the head. “We should get back to Bareahard before it gets dark.”

Rean was completely in favor of this. He didn't like the idea of walking through the canyon after dark, especially with his shoulder wound, and besides which he was dead tired. All he wanted to do was climb into his bed in that fancy hotel and get a good night's sleep.

But first we have to write the day's reports. Fun.

They'd gone a few selge down the road when a keening wail reached their ears. It was a sound Rean could only ever recall hearing once, during one of his few visits to the capital, and he was pretty sure that had been a drill. That siren meant there was a security breach, likely from the air.

“It's coming from the fort,” Machias said, one hand on his shotgun. “What the hell?”

Fie spun around. “Up there!”

It was one of the most bizarre things Rean had ever seen. A silver object, vaguely human-shaped, was crossing the sky at high speed. He strained his eyes, but the object was moving too fast, and soon vanished in the distance to the southwest. All he could tell was it appeared to be carrying someone.

“What the hell was that!?” Machias demanded of the world at large. “Are birds like that common around here!?”

Jusis snorted derisively. “Imbecile. Whatever that thing was, it was no bird.”

“Looked like someone was riding it,” Fie said.

No surprise she'd noticed. “I think it was a child,” Rean said. “It was moving too fast to be sure, but from the size and build, I think it's likely.”

A loud rumbling sent them hurriedly to the side of the road. The source was as expected, a couple of armored vehicles from the provincial army, doubtless in pursuit of whatever it was they'd just seen. On catching sight of Rean and his classmates, they stopped and a pair of soldiers dismounted.

“Lord Jusis!” the senior of them said. “Are you on your way back to Bareahard?”

Jusis was clearly in no mood for pleasantries. “Just what is going on here?” he asked. “What is the meaning of that siren?”

The soldier swallowed. “Mere moments ago, we became aware of an intruder in Aurochs Fort.”

“You mean that silver . . . thing we just saw?” Machias said.

Both men were visibly startled. “Which way did it go!?”

“It flew off to the southwest,” Jusis told them. “At a rather significant speed.”

The senior provincial clenched his fists. “Damn! If you'll excuse us. Do take care, Lord Jusis!”

Well, that was interesting. Rean watched the tanks rumble off, shaking his head. At least they were more cordial than the provincials he'd met in Celdic, though that may simply have been because Jusis was with them. He didn't know whether to wish them luck, or just be glad he wasn't them.

“They won't catch it,” Fie said flatly. “Way too fast.”

“Does seem unlikely,” Rean agreed. “Really have to wonder what it was, though.”

“A very good question,” Emma said. “Is there anything that can fly like that besides an airship?”

Machias shrugged helplessly. “I've never heard of any other flying device.”

Nor had Rean, though granted his education in that area wasn't the most thorough. For all that Ymir wasn't all that far from Roer, he'd never had that much interest in technical stuff. Insofar as they mattered to him, he preferred more mundane orbal vehicles.

“This is a matter for the army,” Jusis said at last. “We should trust them to handle it. We're students, visiting here for our studies.” He folded his arms. “We're under no obligation to do the provincial army's job for them, and we have our hands full with our own tasks in any case.”

Machias seemed unconvinced. Odd, since he ordinarily wouldn't have cared about the provincials. “But still. . . .”

“We should at least mention it in our report,” Emma pointed out. “It's certainly . . . noteworthy.”

Rean nodded. “Yeah. On another note,” he flexed his arm, “my shoulder seems to have healed completely. I should be good to go.”

The others looked at him in obvious surprise. Except, Rean couldn't help noticing, for Emma. “Are you certain?” Jusis asked, concerned.

“It's hard to believe that kind of wound could have healed so quickly,” Machias said.

Fie raised her eyebrows. “You have some kind of alien constitution?”

“Don't think so, no,” Rean said. “I think it's just that Emma's grandmother's medicine is really that effective.” He drew his sword and performed a couple of experimental swings. “Not even a twinge.” He smiled. “Thanks for your concern, everyone. Let's go.”

Though he wouldn't have dreamed of admitting it (especially not where Machias Regnitz could hear), Jusis was almost ready to collapse by the time he and his classmates trudged into Bareahard. Not from anything as pedestrian as physical weariness, but rather his own deep-seated uncertainty.

Regnitz, unfortunately, had a point: despite the rising tensions, and the sheer size of the Imperial Army, there was no rational reason for the troop buildup at Aurochs Fort. Jusis couldn't help wondering what his father was thinking, or if he was being pushed into it by someone else. He had always been resentful of Duke Cayenne's leadership role in the Noble Faction. . . .

Pushing such dark thoughts aside for the time being, Jusis looked with carefully hidden concern at their group's de facto leader. Rean was moving easily now, showing no sign of the injury he had suffered mere hours before. However, Jusis wasn't entirely convinced; he'd seen enough of the young country noble to know he preferred not to openly admit to any kind of discomfort, to avoid worrying others.

A noble sentiment, but sooner or later he's going to take it too far. Though to be sure, it had served a useful purpose, in that it had forced Jusis to recognize just how excessive his rivalry with Regnitz had gotten. The hotheaded commoner still set his teeth on edge, but he was able to put it in perspective. And to his shame, finally realize Sara Valestein's purpose in putting them in the same group. Not that he was prepared to admit it.

All that aside, Jusis made a mental note to speak to Laura about Rean's self-destructive impulses. She seemed to have a certain pull with him, after all.

His musings were cut off just as they reached the hotel, in a particularly unsettling fashion. A familiar gray orbal limousine had pulled up by the hotel entrance. “Father!?”

“What!?” Machias yelped. For once Jusis didn't blame him; his father was a far different proposition from Rufus.

A rear passenger window slid down just as Jusis reached it, revealing Duke Helmut Albarea. A middle-aged man clad in dark green and purple, his ash-colored hair and mustache carefully trimmed, the duke took great pains to ensure he projected an ideal image of Imperial nobility. His ideal image, at least.

“I'm terribly sorry for not coming to greet you, Father,” Jusis said. “Although I'm here for but a short time, I, Jusis—”

“Enough,” the duke cut him off. “As I informed Rufus, you may do as you wish while you're here. However, you will do nothing that brings shame upon myself or the Albarea name. Please be ever mindful of your position and what you represent.”

Throughout, Duke Albarea's expression didn't so much as flicker. Jusis suppressed a sigh. “Would it be too much to ask for you to introduce—”

Again, his father cut him off. “I have no time for pleasantries,” Duke Albarea said coldly. “Should I require anything of you, you will be contacted.” Without so much as a token farewell, the window closed and the limo departed.

All too typical of His Grace Duke Helmut Albarea. In the eight years he'd been with the family, Jusis couldn't recall a single moment of filial warmth from his highborn father. Never so much as a smile, nothing but stern injunctions to conduct himself as a scion of House Albarea should.

This is why I chose to enroll at Thors, he thought with a trace of old bitterness.

“What was that all about?” Fie asked.

“Fie, that's not something you should—” Emma started, only to break off.

Regnitz was unusually subdued. “So that was the almighty Duke Albarea,” he said. “Head of one of the Four Great Houses, and lord of this entire province.”

“Indeed,” Jusis said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. Rean, he suspected, saw through it anyway; for a country noble, he was quite perceptive. “And by some strange twist of fate, my father as well.” He shook his head. “I've spoken out of turn; please forget it.” No chance of that happening, he knew. “Today's work has made me hungry; I suggest we return to our rooms, and then find something to eat.”

After a short rest and a much-needed shower, they gathered at Jusis's favorite restaurant in the central plaza. Though he didn't show it, he was happy to treat his classmates (Regnitz included) as a show of hospitality, of proper noblesse oblige. To show that not all Bareahard natives were as cold as his father.

“Wonderful breeze,” Regnitz said, leaning back in his chair. The five of them had chosen to eat outside, in hopes of some genuine relaxation.

“The food was great, too,” Emma said, sipping from a glass of juice.

“Got that right,” Fie agreed. Despite her short stature, she ate like a starving wolf sometimes.

Rean swirled his teacup. “I can see why this place is popular with the nobles.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Dine here often, Jusis?”

Memories drifting through his mind, Jusis nodded. “The chef has been good to me since I was a child.” He smiled faintly. “I was practically raised on this food.”

Regnitz snorted. “Typical. Even in their dining habits, you nobles wallow in luxury.” He paused. “Though I certainly can't deny the quality of the food.”

“Tasty and warm,” was Fie's terse comment.

“For a high-class restaurant, the chef used a lot of healthy ingredients,” Emma remarked. “Perhaps it's his way of ensuring Jusis stays in good health.”

Jusis allowed himself a chuckle. “No doubt of that.”

The silence grew long, but not necessarily uncomfortable. It was, Jusis admitted privately, a refreshing change from last month's field study. Despite the . . . awkwardness during the day's monster hunt, it seemed there was hope for a passing grade this time.

“I wonder what Group B is doing right now,” Regnitz ventured.

Rean laughed. “We had this exact conversation last month. They're probably hard at work in Saint-Arkh, nothing to worry about.”

“It was . . . Celdic for you last month, right?” Emma asked. “So you were thinking of us on the first night?”

A wry smile crossed Rean's face. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “After dinner, we were wondering how Group B was doing.” His lip twitched. “Dare I ask?”

For his part, Jusis had done his best to suppress the memory. His own conduct hadn't exactly been befitting a noble of his station. Were it not for Rean, he would likely have repeated the mistake, or worse.

“Nowhere near as peacefully as now,” Fie said, cutting to the heart as usual. “Real big improvement here.”

Rean smiled a little shakily. “That's . . . pretty much what I figured.”

“We are doing much better this time,” Regnitz conceded.

“And I'm sure our reports will reflect that,” Emma said with a smile.

Jusis finished his drink and set the glass aside. “It's an improvement, but I'm not convinced it's enough,” he said. “I'm certain Group B gave their absolute best in all their tasks today. Can we really say the same?” He raised a hand, forestalling Regnitz's understandable protest. “I'm not referring solely to the monster encounter, but all of our tasks.”

General silence while the others digested it. Even Regnitz appeared to agree, though it wasn't really surprising after the near-disaster outside Aurochs Fort. He was annoying, but far from stupid. If he was, he'd not have lasted a week even in one of the normal classes, much less an intense environment like Class VII.

“We'll just have to make up for it in the day we have left,” Rean said. “Besides, we had the chance to catch sight of a far bigger problem.”

Jusis grimaced, but he couldn't disagree. Unfortunately, there would be no discussing it with his father; the duke's attitude that very afternoon had made it brutally clear. Jusis hadn't been joking when he'd said to Regnitz that House Albarea viewed lesser nobles in the same light as commoners.

“First we found out taxes are skyrocketing, then we see this insane military expansion,” Regnitz said. His dark green eyes bored into Jusis's face. “Don't try to tell me the two aren't related!”

Jusis kept a firm hold on his temper. “I'll not deny it, but you're only looking at one side of the coin. Exactly how many Achtzehn tanks do you think the Imperial Army has?”
“Around a hundred or two,” Fie said.

Jusis bowed his head slightly in her direction. “Precisely. The Imperial Army's strength is enormous, one of the most powerful forces on the continent. And roughly seventy percent of it is under Chancellor Giliath Osborne's control. Tell me, how is the Noble Alliance supposed to counter that?”

Emma frowned, obviously worried. “You're saying that's why the provincial army needs to bolster its forces?”

Rean shook his head. “Considering both sides are Erebonian, it seems like such a waste. Especially with the Calvard Republic right next door.”

Jusis reminded himself not to underestimate Rean just because he was from the remote countryside. His grasp of political realities was quite impressive. Then again, perhaps it isn't so surprising. Ymir isn't all that far from Roer, one of the most important cities in the Empire.

“Ah, the travails of youth! How noble and beautiful they are!”

For some reason, Jusis felt his gorge rising at the singsong tones. “Baron Bleublanc, was it?” Rean said.

Sure enough, it was the bizarre nobleman (if that's what he was, which Jusis somehow doubted) who had aided them in the gem hunt. “Ah, it gives me such pleasure that you would remember a mere baron,” he said, bowing. “I see you've completed a hard day's work already. How splendid!”

“Nearly,” Machias allowed.

Fie's eyes narrowed slightly; she was clearly suspicious. “And you?”

If Bleublanc noticed, he gave no sign. “Alas, I have not yet been bless with the fateful encounter I seek. The search for beauty if full of perils and obstacles, yet that is what makes it so beautiful!”

Lunatic. “Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay,” Jusis said evenly.

The baron(?) laughed. “I most certainly will. Though it is truly a pity that the clear air of this verdant city should be tainted, however faintly, with the scent of steel.” He smiled at Jusis's involuntary tension. “I'd heard Duke Albarea was a man of many interests, but I was unaware he counted playing with fire among them. I don't condemn him for it, though! For only by playing with fire can one make fireworks. Would you not agree, my friends?”

I would sooner call Regnitz “friend” than you.

“I really don't like what you're implying,” Regnitz bit out.

“And I think this whole line of conversation is . . . a little inappropriate,” Emma said. Possibly the first time Jusis had seen her display genuine irritation; the class president generally seemed to have the patience of a saint.

Bleublanc was unfazed. “Oh, pardon me, dear lady! I meant no harm, I assure you. I wish you well on your remaining day here. May you reveal to me the beauty I seek by its end!” With another bow, he stepped off into the night.

Jusis pinched the bridge of his nose. Not even Regnitz was able to give him such a pounding headache so quickly. Whoever this Bleublanc fellow was, he certainly enjoyed getting a rise out of people.

Regnitz was practically grinding his teeth. “Just who does he think he is!? This is why I can't stand nobles!”

“Of course you would say that,” Jusis said. “If it makes you feel any better, I have my doubts as to whether he is really a noble to begin with.”

That seemed to rock the hotheaded commoner back on his mental heels. “His mannerisms seemed exaggerated,” Emma said thoughtfully. “Almost as if he's trying to act like the quintessential noble. Filling a stereotype, if you will.”

Rean nodded. “Something feels off about him, no mistake. And more strangely, how did he know we have only one day left here?”

“You're right!” Regnitz said, startled out of his ranting.

Jusis could have kicked himself for missing it. “We told him of our field study, but not how long we would be here,” he said, his mouth tightening.

“Between him and that silver object, we've been running into a lot of strange people today,” Fie said.

Rean closed his eyes, apparently in thought. “Well, tomorrow's the end of our stint here. We still have a lot to do, so we can't afford distractions.”

“Right!” Emma said firmly. “We have to do our group proud!”

“Exactly,” Jusis agreed.

For once, Regnitz was completely onboard. “Let's write our reports and get some sleep.”

Possibly the first sensible thing he's said all day.

Rean Schwarzer was no stranger to luxury per se. House Schwarzer wasn't exactly high-rank, but it was aristocracy, and as such had a few perks. One of them was his home in Ymir, which while not exactly on par with the Albarea mansion, was still larger than any other building in the town.

Hotel Esmeralda still had the fanciest beds he'd ever slept in.

For a given value of “slept,” at least. He lay staring at the darkened ceiling, replying the day's events in his mind. While it had ended on a positive note, he knew Jusis was right, that it could have gone much better if they'd just put more effort into it.

A stirring to his left, more felt than seen, told him he wasn't the only insomniac in the room. “Can't get to sleep?”

Jusis's head turned. “I could ask the same of you. You aren't about to say the bed is too hard, are you?”

With a soft laugh, Rean shook his head. “Far from it. I've never slept in a bed like this even back home.”

“And yet you're the son of Baron Schwarzer.” Jusis's voice was very dry. “You haven't lived the life one would expect of a noble boy.”

Now there was an understatement. Even leaving aside his extensive training with Master Ka-fai, the life of a noble in the Eisengard Mountains wasn't exactly high society. “That's just how my dad is. 'A lord should live like his people, not above them,' is how he always puts it. Sure, we have a big house, but it's nothing compared to your family's estate. My mom even does most of the cooking.”

“I see.” Jusis looked faintly sad. “It sounds as if you have a good family.”

Was Rean imagining things, or was there a trace of envy in his classmate's voice? “Yeah, I'm grateful for my upbringing.”

Jusis was silent long enough that Rean started to think he'd finally fallen asleep. “Aren't you going to ask? I assumed you'd be curious about that brief exchange with my father this afternoon.”

Taken aback, Rean shrugged. “I was curious, but I wasn't sure you would be comfortable if I brought it up. I can tell you get along well with your brother, but I . . . didn't get that sense with the duke.” Which was akin to saying a Ymir winter was a bit chilly. “Has he . . . always been like that?”

“As long as I can remember.” There was no mistaking the bitterness of his classmate's tone. “I suppose he just has little respect for a son born to a commoner.”

Startled, Rean sat up. This was a revelation he hadn't expected. “What?”

Jusis smiled a very faint, bleak smile. “Rufus and I have different mothers. He was born of my father's legal wife, a noble who lives to this day. My own mother, however, was a commoner, who passed away eight years ago.” His voice was very quiet. “In other words, I am his bastard son.”

It took a moment for Rean to respond. “I had no idea. Was that chef we met earlier a relative, then?”

“My mother's brother,” Jusis confirmed. “Perhaps that's why he's always been so good to me. Or perhaps,” his tone seemed to darken, “it's simply my due as the son of a duke.”

Forcing back his own anger at the duke who apparently cared nothing for his son, Rean shook his head. “I don't blame you for being cynical, but isn't that going a bit far?”

A brief pause. “I suppose you're right.”

This was turning more awkward than Rean had expected. “I know you probably have your . . . differences, but you get along with your brother, right?”

Jusis seemed to brighten. “You could say that. He's treated me well ever since I was taken in, eight years ago. Regardless of my father's attitude, Rufus always made me feel like part of the family. It was he who taught me swordsmanship, and the ways of court etiquette.”

“I knew it.” Rean smiled at Jusis's questioning look. “There's something, I don't know, honest about the way you fight. I figured whoever taught you must have been someone you really trusted. When we met him this afternoon, I had a hunch he might have been the one.”

Jusis grunted softly. “You keep reminding me how unlike a noble you truly are.”

With a wry smile, Rean nodded. “I get that a lot. I think it's why Machias never suspected who I was. Laura only knew because we'd met years before.”

A meeting that was one of his fondest memories, now that he'd put the pieces together. They'd had a lot of fun on that long-ago winter afternoon.

“Is your injury from this afternoon on the mend?”

Rean had actually forgotten, which said something about Emma's skill. “Really, it's fine. There's no more pain, not even a scar. When I get the chance, I'll have to thank Emma's grandmother.”

“That's good to hear.” Jusis paused. “Still, from where I stand, you are something of a danger to yourself.”

Well. That came out of nowhere. “How . . . so?”

Jusis sat up. “On the day of the entrance ceremony, when that trapdoor opened beneath our feet, you acted instantly to protect Alisa, without a trace of hesitation.”

Where is he going with this? “I just did what was right.”

“In most cases, one would act instinctively to protect oneself. It's part of man's natural survival instinct. Yet you put another before yourself, not once pausing to question the validity of that decision.” He met Rean's gaze. “And you did exactly the same with us today.” He frowned slightly. “I'm sure most people would see it as a selfless act, and sing your praises for it, but to me it came across as abnormal, even twisted.”

At a loss for words, Rean sank back on the bed. “I . . . don't know how to respond to that! Never expected you to see through me so clearly.”

“I owed you that much for seeing through me first.” Jusis sounded faintly amused. “Still, the point stands. You need to be more cognizant of the effects your actions have on those around you. If not for your health, than consider your reputation; that selflessness can easily be perceived as arrogance, after all.”

Rean almost rolled his eyes. Here was a familiar refrain indeed. “I know, and you're not the first person to tell me that. My old master said the same thing. 'What's the point in saving others if you can't even spare a moment to save yourself?' I can't count how many times I heard that.”

“Is that so?” Jusis smirked. “The Sword Hermit is wise indeed.”

Out of nowhere, they both found themselves chuckling. It felt like a wall had suddenly come crashing down, not unlike with Alisa just before they'd left for Celdic.

“I suppose we both have some things we need to work through,” Jusis said, sounding more at ease than Rean had ever heard him.

Rean smiled. “Yeah, but for now, we need to get a good night's sleep. Won't do anyone any good if we're tired in the morning.”

“I agree. It wouldn't be fair . . . to the girls at least.” Jusis lay back. “And I refuse to be anything less than my best.”

“I hear that,” Rean agreed. “'Night, Jusis.”

“Pleasant dreams.”

As he drifted off to sleep, Rean rested easy, knowing he'd made another friend.

Chapter Text

The first thing Rean noticed the next morning was a marked change in Machias's demeanor. While he still appeared very wound up, his tension seemed due more to embarrassment than outright hostility. Which started gears turning in Rean's mind; he had a pretty good idea what had changed.

Jusis caught his eye and smirked faintly; clearly he too had noticed the shift in the proud commoner's attitude. He made no comment, however, and the group sat down to an amiable breakfast. Jusis and Machias avoided speaking to each other, of course, but Rean would honestly have been shocked if they were yet ready for normal conversation.

One thing at a time, he thought, and happily polished off his meal.

The hotel manager greeted them when they had finished. “Here is the envelop Lord Rufus entrusted to me,” he said.

“Thank you,” Rean said, inclining his head respectfully.

Manager Richelieu bowed. “If you'll excuse me, then. Should you require anything further, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Jusis twitched at that, but held his peace. Probably just reflex, Rean decided, knowing Jusis's intense dislike of being pampered. Luxury seemed to have little value to the youngest Albarea.

“Let's see what my brother has for us this time,” Jusis said.

Nodding, Rean slit the envelop open. Similar to the previous day, he noted, a monster hunt, this time on North Kreuzen Highway, and a request from Jusis's commoner uncle. Nothing too difficult, assuming they didn't have another foul-up with their combat links.

“Looks well-balanced,” Emma commented.

“Yeah,” Rean said slowly, a new thought forming in his mind. “You know, I wouldn't be surprised if Rufus predicted exactly what happened yesterday, from the very start.”

Machias frowned. “You're saying he wanted to give us a firsthand look at the problems between nobles and commoners?” He almost smiled. “If so, I'm impressed. His reputation is well-earned.”

“Sure is,” Fie agreed, the ghost of a smile on her face.

Jusis sighed. “I think that's enough about my brother,” he said, one hand on his hip. “We have only a day left until we return to Trista. We should set out—”

“Jusis Albarea,” Machias interrupted.

The noble in question lifted one blond eyebrow. “What is it, Machias Regnitz?”

“I will accept no more failures,” Machias said. “Today, we will form a combat link.”

Jusis was almost rocked back on his heels. “I beg your pardon?”

Yep, I was right. Machias was clearly unhappy at what he had to say, but was just as clearly determined to say it. If Rean wasn't mistaken, he had actually managed to mature a little since the previous night. Means fewer headaches for Instructor Sara, at least.

“However much I dislike you, I'm ashamed that we were unable to do what every other member of our class has accomplished,” Machias was saying. “Today's monster extermination request seems like a good chance to make up for yesterday's failure, wouldn't you say?”

Jusis smirked. “. . .You really are simple-minded, aren't you? I suppose you overheard our conversation last night and now feel some kind of affinity for me?”

It took a lot of effort not to burst out laughing at Machias's reaction. “I-I did no such thing!” he stammered. “I was fast asleep while you yammered on about your family and Rean. . . .” He trailed off, realizing what he'd let slip.

Rean chucked, shaking his head. “Oh, Machias.”

“Pretty conclusive,” Fie said, smirking very much like Jusis.

Jusis laughed, hands on his hips, but for once there was no scorn in his voice. “Very well, I accept. I'll be happy to show you what a proper combat link looks like.”

Machias made a strange choking noise. “Fortunately, I have more than enough generosity of spirit to endure being paired with an arrogant noble like you!”

Rean could not longer contain his laughter. Taking that hit to the shoulder was definitely worth it. On the surface it seemed like more of the usual bickering, but anyone with eyes could tell the underlying reality had undergone a dramatic change for the better.

“Maybe today's field study will go more smoothly after all,” Emma said, smiling.

The look on Machias's face was absolutely priceless. Sadly, cold reality intervened with the hotel front door opening. “Lord Jusis?”

If Rean wasn't mistaken, it was the butler he'd seen with Jusis on arriving at Thors two months before. A tall, distinguished looking man in a dark brown suit, every rege the high-class retainer one would expect to find in one of the Four Great Houses.

“Arnauld?” Jusis said, visibly surprised. “What brings you here? I expected you to be at my father's side.”

Arnauld sketched a brief half-bow. “I'm terribly sorry I wasn't on-hand to greet you yesterday,” he said. “However, I come today in the capacity of an escort.”

Jusis's eyes narrowed. “An escort?” he repeated. “To where? I'm sure you are aware I have only returned to Bareahard as part of a field study for my academic work.”

“Of course,” Arnauld said. “However, His Grace has directly requested I escort you to the mansion. So I would be most appreciative if you would accompany me without delay.”

It seemed innocent enough, but Rean couldn't shake a vague sense of unease. After the admittedly little he'd seen of Duke Albarea the previous day, for Jusis to suddenly be called to the family estate seemed out of place to say the least.

Jusis was clearly thinking along the same lines. “He showed no desire for my company when we spoke yesterday,” he said, frowning in clear discomfort.

“It is not my position to question or oppose his orders; merely to obey them,” Arnauld said. “I'm sure you understand.” He coughed. “Though it is purely speculation, I do wonder if His Grace feels some regret over his demeanor yesterday.”

Visibly torn, Jusis hesitated. “But, I. . . .”

“Go with him,” Machias said. For once, he sounded almost concerned. “We can attempt to form a combat link another time.”

Rean nodded. “We can handle this morning's tasks just fine on our own. Don't worry about us.”

“Besides, after coming all the way back to your hometown, it would be a shame not to visit with your family,” Emma added with a smile.

“What she said,” Fie put in.

Jusis looked from one to another. “Are you certain?” He took a deep breath. “Very well, I'll return this afternoon.” The smirk returned. “Though I worry about how you'll fare without me, I know you'll at least give it your best. For whatever that's worth.”

It was clearly meant as a jibe at Machias, who amazingly took it in good part. “Of course we will.”

“We'll see you around noon, then,” Rean said. “If something comes up, just leave a message at the front desk.”

“Understood,” Jusis said. He nodded to Arnauld, and the pair departed.

It was with definite mixed feelings that Rean watched them go. Jusis appeared confident enough, but there was still that nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. Or maybe he was just reading too much into things; Rean's only real brushes with high society had been a couple of trips to Heimdallr years before.

“Let's get started,” he said at length. “No sense giving Jusis more reason to worry.”

“Certainly not,” Emma agreed. “Still. . . .” She looked at Machias.

Rean and Fie followed her gaze. “W-What!?” Machias demanded. “If you have something to say, say it already!”

Emma giggled. “Oh, it's nothing, nothing at all!”

“She's probably thinking the worst is over, and it's all thanks to your eavesdropping,” Rean said with a grin.

“Good boy,” Fie cooed, sounding like she was talking to a faithful dog.

Machias's face reddened. “Stop that!” he snapped. “Stop looking at me like I'm some hapless babe!” He glared at Rean. “Rean! You know I still haven't forgiven you for lying, right!?”

Of all the things to bring up. “You're still hung up on that?”

Machias ignored him, turning to Emma. “And you, Emma! I hope you're ready to score second on our midterms, because I'm not about to lose to you again! But don't even think of giving less than your best; I'm going to beat you when you're in top form!”

He might as well have been talking about the weather. “Y-You will?”

Teeth clenched, Machias whirled on their youngest member. “And Fie, I've been wanting to say this for a long time: sleeping in class is an affront to our education! You need to start taking classes more seriously! Listen, take proper notes! Raise your hand once in a while!” When Fie responded by dropping to her knees and clapping her hands over her ears, Machias nearly lost it. “And don't cover your ears when I'm talking to you!”

“I can't hear you,” Fie responded in a singsong voice.

Rean laughed. “We've got a lot to do today. Let's get going.”

As they stepped out onto the North Kreuzen Highway, Machias felt a swirl of confused emotions. Shame was high on the list; after he'd make his hatred for the aristocracy brutally clear, it was no wonder Rean had dissembled about his own social class. If Machias was being honest, it was amazing Rean was willing to talk to him at all.

Relief was also prominent, relief at recovering from his own stupid mistake. And it was stupid; sure, a lot of the nobility were pompous, strutting buffoons, but by no means all fit that description. Rean himself, for one; he carried himself with a certain dignity, but arrogance was from all appearances foreign to his nature. Same for Laura, who for all her high-class upbringing was one of the friendliest people Machias had ever met.

Last, though he would never have said so aloud, was concern, concern for Jusis Albarea. Machias still didn't like the pretentious noble, but he had to admit Jusis hadn't simply been riding his father's coattails. If their brief meeting with Duke Albarea was any indication, Jusis likely had to struggle against his father's influence often as not. No wonder he seemed to prefer the somewhat utilitarian accommodations at Thors over the luxury of the Verdant City.

And now this. For reasons unknown, Jusis had been forced to return to the family estate, and that worried Machias. Jusis he grudgingly trusted, the duke not so much. Machias knew enough about politics to suspect something deeper was in the offing, something none of them would like.

And of course it had to happen when we're finally ready for a proper combat link. I'd like to smash Duke Albarea's face in just for that.

Rean held up a hand. “There it is,” he murmured.

“Looks just as strong as yesterday's,” Fie said.

Just as strong, and if anything even uglier, in Machias's opinion. It appeared to be a giant mutated plant, with three gaping, slavering mouths. Obviously carnivorous, and obviously hostile. Feeding it a mass of lead was going to be most satisfying.

“We'll have to be careful, since Jusis isn't with us today,” Emma said.

Machias grimaced, but he couldn't disagree. Only a complete idiot would deny Jusis Albarea's skill with a blade. “Rean,” he bowed his head, “I'm ashamed of what happened yesterday. I know we've had our share of differences, but . . . .”

“He's embarrassed,” Fie said with a smirk.

Which was true, but Machias did not appreciate her pointing it out. “Q-Quiet, Fie! I'm trying to—”

“I caused problems for everyone, too,” Rean interrupted. “My injuries were the result of my own carelessness. Hopefully, we can make up for it by giving this fight our all. Together. I'm counting on you, Machias.”

Machias set himself, raising his shotgun to firing position. “I won't let you down!”

There was a blur of motion to his right, Fie coming in at an angle. She drove her gun-swords into one of the “neck” vines, nearly severing it with a single attack. Rean was barely a second behind her; Machias couldn't help marveling at the sheer artistry of his noble friend's swordplay.

Save that for combat practice! he told himself firmly, and pulled the trigger. His shotgun barked, kicking back into his right shoulder. Ordinarily he preferring buckshot, but against foes such as this houseplant from hell he favored solid slugs. On fire if possible.

Fire appeared to be Emma's method of choice for this fight. Instead of orbal blasts from her staff, she concentrated for a moment, and unleashed a jet of fire. Narrowly missing Fie, it was more than enough to set their target ablaze. Machias was grateful for the distance; as it was, it felt like getting sunburned.

“I'll wrap this up,” Fie said, and dashed forward, slashing in an intricate pattern. “Sylphid Dance!” she shouted, spinning on one foot, her gun-swords spitting death. Struck by dozens of shots at point-blank range, and already near death from the flames, the plant monster settled to the ground, charred almost beyond recognition.

Machias slumped in relief. “We won!”

“We sure did,” Rean agreed, sheathing his sword. “And in doing so, I think we've redeemed ourselves for yesterday.”

“Suppose that gets a pass,” Fie said. High praise from her.

Swiping a hand over his sweat-covered forehead, Machias laughed wearily. “I'm sorry, everyone. I've dragged you all down.” He looked at their de facto leader. “Especially you, Rean. I owe you double the apology.” He closed his eyes. “Please forgive me!”

“Don't worry about it, Machias,” Rean said. “If I'd just been honest from the start, this could all have been avoided. So if anything, I should be the one apologizing for misleading you.”

That made no sense. “No, no,” Machias said. “After the way I acted, I can't blame you for being cagey about it.”

“All in the past now,” Rean said. “I'm glad to have you with us, Machias.”

At last feeling the weight lift, Machias smiled. “Same to you.”

“And I'm glad you were able to make up!” Emma said.

“Ah, youth.”

Machias glared at their youngest classmate. “Don't make fun of us! You're younger than we are!” Fie, of course, didn't even twitch.

Rean lifted an eyebrow. “So, since we're on a roll . . . why not take the chance to make up with Jusis, too?”

That was a bridge too far. “What!?”
“If you two could just talk honestly with each other,” Rean said, “I'm sure even combat links would—”

“Out of the question!” Machias said, shaking his head adamantly. “My behavior toward you was wrong, I admit it. But Jusis Albarea is a completely different story! He and I are fundamentally incompatible, and nothing any of you do can change that!”

Clearly unconvinced, Rean laughed softly. “Let's just get back to town. Jusis should be back soon, anyway.”

Machias was definitely not looking forward to seeing that upstart again. Still, he had to admit, if only to himself, that there were far worse fates.

There was a definite spring in Rean's step on the way back to Bareahard. He was still less than happy with Instructor Sara for foisting the issue off on him, but he had to admit it was a resounding success. Even the occasional monster attack on the return trip failed to dampen his mood; they were easily dispatched. Even Fie seemed more cheerful.

Until they passed through the city gate, and were met by two men in the blue-and-white of the Kreuzen Provincial Army. What are they doing here? Are they waiting for us?

“You're the students from Thors Military Academy, correct?” one said. “The ones here on a 'field study'?”

Rean tensed, not liking where this was headed. “That's us,” he confirmed.

“Is there a problem?” Emma asked.

The soldier ignored her, instead looking at Machias. “He's a perfect match for the photo.”

“Convenient for us,” his partner said, and blew a whistle.

Rean almost went for his sword, thinking better at the last second. He could take a couple of provincials, sure, but only with very unpleasant consequences. Which only frustrated him even more; there was something very wrong happening, and he could do nothing to stop it.

“What are you doing!?” Machias demanded.

The soldiers stepped forward. “First year student Machias Regnitz, correct?”

“You're under arrest,” the other said. “Don't resist if you know what's good for you.”

Rean raised a hand. “Hold on,” he said, stepping between them. “Just what is going on here? On what grounds are you arresting him?”

The senior soldier looked at him as though he was a lower life form. “A number of charges have been filed, but the most egregious is trespassing in Aurochs Fort yesterday afternoon.”

“That silver object,” Fie murmured, half to herself. Something in those pale green eyes made Rean very glad indeed that she wasn't looking at him.

“That's preposterous!” Machias said. “Certainly I was near the fort at the time, but I wasn't exactly alone! I was with my classmates the entire time, including your own Duke Albarea's younger son! If you won't believe their testimony, why am I the only one under suspicion!?”

The soldier snorted derisively. “You'll have to do better than that,” he said as more came up from behind. He spared Rean another contemptuous look. “All you need to know is he's a person of interest, and we have the right to take him in for questioning.”

Seething, Rean could do nothing but watch as his classmate was led away. Suddenly it was all too clear why Jusis had been summoned to the family estate; had he been present, he would have objected as a matter of honor, and the soldiers would at least have hesitated.

It wasn't going to stand, though, not if he could help it. The three of them spent the next hour prowling the city, asking questions, or sometimes just listening to nearby conversations, hoping to get a feel for things. Mostly the people were at least courteous, and an old lady near the canal was very nice, but overall the results were not encouraging.

A brief, biting conversation with a provincial army officer confirmed it. “I'll bet they've had this whole thing planned out since yesterday,” Rean said bitterly. “Which means the reason Jusis was called away. . . .”

“Was to keep him from interfering,” Emma said. “They knew he might have been able to prevent the arrest. At least, I assume that's what you were going to say.”

“Makes sense,” Fie said. “He may come across as stuck up, but Jusis has a way with people when he has to.”

“Almost certainly,” Rean said, glancing at his watch. “It's past noon already, we'd better get back to the hotel. If Jusis hasn't at least left a message, we're going to have to think of . . . other ways to handle this.”

Fie, he couldn't help noticing, kept her hands near her gun-swords as they walked. Though admittedly a sensible precaution, Rean again had to wonder just how she got so skilled. Back in Celdic, Laura had accused him of holding back, but in Rean's opinion that was even more true of Fie. Aside from use of the ARCUS specifically, Thors clearly had little to teach Fie Claussell about combat.

And to be fair, now really wasn't the time to press her on it. Especially since they had additional problems; the hotel was positively crawling with provincials. For a moment they hesitated to even step through the door, lest they wind up arrested as well, but in the end Rean decided they would just look more suspicious of they didn't.

“I'm terribly sorry,” Richelieu said. “They insisted on conducting a precautionary search as part of their investigation. I believe they'll be leaving by this evening, but I'm afraid I know nothing more.”

Silently thanking Aidios he had his sword and ARCUS on him, Rean shook his head. “We're the ones who should apologize for all the trouble,” he said. “We'd better go.”

It would be best, he thought, if they put as much distance between them and the noble districts as possible without actually leaving the city. Artisans Street seemed their safest option, convenient to where they needed to go without being in the sights of the provincial army.

Fie, ever sharp-eyed, pointed out a decent-looking cafe. With no better options, they ordered some tea and sat at an isolated table to hash out their situation.

“In all likelihood, the incident at the fort was just an excuse,” Rean said. “They just wanted him because his father is the governor of Heimdallr, and a key figure in the Reformist Faction. Basically, he's a hostage to put pressure on the Reformists during negotiations.”

Emma sighed. “That does seem to be the most plausible explanation,” she conceded reluctantly. “T-They wouldn't hurt him, though, would they?”

Rean, unfortunately, was not optimistic. Nor was Fie. “I wouldn't count on it,” the silver-haired girl said, running a finger along the rim of her cup. “Tensions are high on both sides.” Her lip curled slightly in obvious distaste. “Worst case, they might threaten Machias directly to get what they wanted.” A brief, barely audible sniff. “Cowards.”

“That's awful,” Emma said, blanching.

“That's Imperial politics these days,” Rean said with disgust. “Still, this may fall under the scope of our field study. It may be risky, but how about we try to do something about it ourselves?”

Emma's eyes widened a little, but she nodded. “We can't just abandon him.”

“I'm in,” Fie agreed.

Relieved in ways he couldn't quite describe, Rean smiled. “Thanks, both of you. Now, I think our best bet is to track down Jusis. Sure, he doesn't exactly like Machias, but there's no way he'd be in favor of this mess.”

“I agree,” Emma said. She sipped her tea. “It must have been Duke Albarea himself.”

Fie snorted. “He warns Jusis not to disgrace the Albarea name, then pulls a stunt like this.” She shook her head. “Still, Jusis is locked up. Maybe his brother could help?”

It had possibilities, certainly. “Rufus was pleasant enough to Machias yesterday,” Rean said, “so he just might.” Then he shook his head. “Except he has business in the capital, and there's no telling when he'll be back. So he's probably a no go.”

Fie nodded slowly. “Then our only option is to break Machias out ourselves.”

She said it in such a matter-of-fact tone that for a moment it didn't really register. “That's a little . . . excessive,” Rean said when he'd found his voice.

Fie leaned forward. “Think about it: while he's still in the guardhouse, we have a perfect chance to break him out. But if they take him to the fort, we lose that chance, and we won't get another.”

It was completely, totally, utterly, absolutely insane. Rean could think of a hundred different ways it could go wrong, most of which would get them expelled and/or arrested, and at least two scenarios could result in their deaths. Unfortunately, he also couldn't think of any better options.

“Can't argue with that,” he conceded. “Okay, we'll give it a try.”

Emma looked unhappy, but nodded anyway. “If you're sure. We'll have to be as covert as possible, though. If we get caught, it has to be after we get Machias out. If it's before that, we'll never be able to talk our way out.” She pursed her lips. “The charges are obviously false, so they'll be very limited in what they can do to retaliate.”

Rean smiled faintly. “And the provincial army won't want to risk tarnishing their precious image. We're more or less home free if we can get out of Bareahard.”

“So, no smoke grenades, then.”

Rean and Emma looked at their classmate as if she'd grown a second head. “Smoke grenades?” Rean repeated carefully.

“You . . . don't carry those around, do you?” Emma asked, looking unsure if she wanted to hear the answer.

Fie shrugged. “What fair maiden doesn't?”

It was possibly the craziest thing Rean had heard outside of Instructor Thomas's more eclectic lectures. “I . . . don't know where to begin listing what's wrong with that statement.”

“Hey, master? What are the monsters like in the underground waterway these days?”

What the? By rights they should have ignored it, if only to avoid drawing attention to themselves, but the question was so flat-out bizarre that Rean couldn't help looking. Seated at the counter was a blond man in a white coat. Looked to be somewhere in his twenties, and to Rean's eye probably a capable fighter. Regardless, it was a very strange question coming from anyone.

“Been, what, three months since you were last down there?” the owner said. “Probably crawling with them by now, but I'm sure not going down to check! Especially since the provincial army doesn't seem interested in clearing them out.”

The blond man sighed theatrically. “How can they sleep at night with nasty monsters crawling around right under their beautiful city? If someone put a request in, I'd take care of them myself.”

“If I hear anything, I'll send a message to Legram,” the owner said with a laugh.

Standing, the blond man set a handful of coins on the counter. “I'll drink to that. Be seeing you.” He casually walked off, then paused near the table Rean and his friends had commandeered. “Don't see many people dressed like that around here. Fancy red uniforms, you guys students?”

Looking as nonplussed as Rean felt, Emma nodded courteously. “That's right. We're from Thors Military Academy in Trista.”

“We were sent here on a field study as part of our curriculum,” Rean added. No reason to hide something that was naturally public knowledge.

The man raised his eyebrows. “Thors, huh? Hear it's a pretty fancy place. No idea what they've got you doing for this field study thing, but good luck. Bareahard's a nice city, but it's got its share of problems.” With that cryptic parting remark, he stepped out the door.

Well, that was weird. Why would anyone be asking about the monster population underground? I could understand about the highways, but nobody goes underground without a good reason. Shaking his head, Rean stood and ambled over to the counter, Emma and Fie trailing along behind.

“Do you know that blond-haired man who just left?” Emma asked.

The owner tilted his head slightly. “Toval? Sure, he's a bracer.”

Well. That at least explained why he was asking about monsters in an underground waterway. At the same time, it made the issue even less explicable. “I haven't seen a bracer in a long time,” Rean said, frowning. “Probably because there just aren't many around anymore.”

The owner shrugged unhappily. “Used to be a guild branch here in Bareahard, but it's been closed for a couple years now. Toval just takes a train up here from the Legram branch every so often.”

No surprise there. Rean had no doubt at all that Duke Albarea despised the Bracer Guild on general principles, if only because they were dedicated to protecting the people he clearly could not have cared less about. Especially since they would likely have made a mess of his little arrangement in Celdic.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” Rean said, “but I couldn't help overhearing something about monsters in the underground waterway.”

“Oh, that? Yeah, huge network of waterways beneath the city. Been there for a long time. Chock-full of monsters, too; the bracers used to go in and clean them out.” Another unhappy shrug. “These days nobody goes near it, so it's stagnating under the provincial army's control.”

Finally, a lead. “How far does it extend?” Rean asked, keeping his voice casual.

“Supposedly, clear from one side of the city to the other,” the owner said. “Call it from the station to somewhere in the Noble District. Heard rumors that it even extends to the duke's mansion, but that's probably just an urban legend.”

Perfect.

Rean thanked the man, then gestured for the others to follow him out. Something more was up, he was sure. A bracer in a place like Bareahard was strange enough; providing exactly the clue they needed raised that strangeness by an order of magnitude.

Fie seemed to agree. “Pretty convenient timing,” she commented.

“Yeah,” Rean said. “An underground waterway from the Middle Ages that extends clear into the Noble District. It's almost too perfect, and I bet you anything it's connected to the guardhouse where they're holding Machias.”

“It makes sense, since the guardhouse was probably also built in the Middle Ages,” Emma said. “If we use the waterway, we may be able to rescue Machias without being discovered.”

Rean nodded. “All right, let's give it a shot. I saw a door on the edge of Station Street earlier; that's probably the entrance.”

“I would think so, since the bracers were able to get in,” Emma agreed.

“Roger that,” Fie said.

For the first time in his life, Rean wished he had some kind of disguise on hand. They stood out a little too much for his peace of mind, what with their bright red Class VII jackets. If anyone from the provincial army spotted them, the operation was over before it could begin.

Naturally, the door was locked.

“This has to be it,” Fie said. “I can feel a breeze through the gaps; pretty spacious in there.”

Rean nodded. “All we need is a way to unlock it.” He briefly considered a repeat of Lunaria Nature Park, but quickly discarded it. Bad idea in the middle of a city.

“May I have a try? Emma asked, pulling something from her jacket pocket.

It was almost cliché. “A hairpin?” Rean said.

“You're going to pick the lock?” Fie asked, sounding just a bit startled.

Emma laughed nervously. “I don't know if it will actually work, but it's worth a shot.” She murmured something Rean didn't quite catch, and the door swung open.

Even Fie was visibly taken aback. “Wow,” was all she could say.

Again the nervous laugh. “I just remembered a mystery novel describing how it works. Good thing it was right.”

“Impressive,” Rean said. He had the feeling there was something more going on, but it definitely wasn't the time. “Let's go.”

The first thing he noticed about the underground waterway is that it wasn't what he had anticipated. Monster infestations aside, it was almost clean, lacking the dank smell one might have expected from such a place. Dull green predominated, and in general it was dim, but there was no sense of neglect.

“I was expecting a place called the 'Verdant City' to be beautiful,” Emma commented, “but I never thought that would extend to the underground.”

“Plenty of tricky monsters, though,” Fie said.

Monsters they could handle. “We head west, to the guardhouse,” Rean said. “Weapons at the ready.”

At Fie's suggestion, Rean linked with Emma, allowing Fie to act as a scout, often weakening monsters before they could get into range. Emma's skill with arts and Rean's sword were then more than enough to finish the job. Rean took a couple of hits, but they were minor; Fie, unsurprisingly, was unscathed.

They'd been walking for perhaps twenty minutes when they heard a voice. “I never expected to encounter you three down here.”

Rean froze. Striding toward them, calm as could be, was none other than Jusis Albarea. He looked a bit worn, probably from frustration, but otherwise was the same cool, self-possessed noble they'd come to know over the last couple of months. The question was, how had he gotten down there?

“I'm so glad you're safe!” Emma gushed.

Jusis sniffed, but his eyes told a different story. “Of course I am. Though I can't say I expected to be placed under house arrest the moment I returned to the mansion.”

“I wish I could say I was surprised,” Rean said, grimacing.

“So you know what's going on?” Fie asked.

It was Jusis's turn to grimace. “Unfortunately. Arresting the Imperial governor's son on false charges in order to keep the Reformist Faction under control. I find it hard to believe my father would actually attempt something so brazen.” He sighed. “I didn't even have a chance to object. Father never had even the slightest intention of talking to me. This was all planned from the start.” He shook his head. “Enough about me. I'm familiar with the layout of this waterway, thanks to my brother. I'll lead us to the guardhouse.”

For a moment, Rean just stared at the other noble. He'd expected Jusis to balk at his father's plot, of course, but that he would have broken out just to rescue Machias was completely out of nowhere. Didn't think he'd be quite that . . . audacious.

“You were planning to rescue him on your own?” Emma gasped, eyes going wide.

Fie smirked. “Nothing like last month.”

Jusis snorted, though again his eyes told a different tale. “Don't get the wrong idea. I just can't condone my father's actions. Besides, he's no doubt huddled in a corner about now, crying and lonely. Rescuing him will be worth it just for that.”

Rean firmly suppressed a smile. “All right. Let's get going.”

With Jusis's help, they made much better progress. He made a surprisingly good link partner with Fie, the two of them tearing through the more resilient monsters they encountered. Rean couldn't help marveling at his friend's swordplay; he had some skill at court fencing, of course, since the family style was derived from it, but that didn't begin to approach Jusis's skill.

Unfortunately, swordsmanship wasn't going to get them past the next obstacle they faced. If they'd had Laura along, maybe they could have gotten through, but Rean and Jusis weren't going to be able to slice through a solid iron door. Especially since it only opened from the other side.

“Is this the path that leads to the guardhouse?” Rean wondered, glaring at the barrier.

Jusis's lip twisted. “It is indeed. This path connects the waterway to the building's lower levels. However, I had no idea it could only be opened from the other side.”

Rean clenched a fist. Dammit, we're so close! Machias can't be more than a few arge away, and we can't get past one door! It was infuriating, but it looked like the provincial army had outsmarted them after all.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Fie step past Jusis. “This can be overcome. Stand back.”

“Fie?”

She didn't answer, instead concentrating on the door. Rean couldn't see exactly what she did, but there was an oddly—and disturbingly—familiar smell. Fie soon stepped back, revealing five dull gray hemispheres of . . . something on the door, one in the center, the others strategically placed on the outer frame.

“What exactly are you doing?” Jusis asked.

Fie ignored him. “Ignition,” she said quietly.

There was an echoing bang, and the double doors slowly fell out of the frame, landing with a clang at Fie's feet. Rean almost jumped out of his skin. What . . . what just happened?

“Was that . . . a bomb?” Jusis breathed, staring at the girl.

Fie shrugged fractionally. “Portable high-powered explosive,” she said. “Plasticity makes it handy for this kind of work.”

This was getting just a little too disturbing. Not that Rean distrusted Fie, but the mysteries were starting to pile up when they could least afford them. Though somewhat behind the rest of them academically, she was clearly no neophyte when it came to combat.

“Where could you possibly have gotten something like that!?” Jusis demanded.

He's right. “Fie, at this point I think we have a right to know.” Rean kept his voice even. “What exactly is your background? I remember the day of the entrance ceremony, you dodged the trapdoor the rest of us fell into. You're two years younger than the rest of us, yet you're not physically weaker at all. If anything, I'd say you're holding back in combat.”

Jusis shot him a sharp look. “Impossible.”

Fie, by contrast, was unreadable. “Guess you got me,” she said with a shrug. “Before I enrolled at Thors, I was a jaeger. That's where I learned to handle explosives and use my gun-swords. That's all.”

That was an answer none of them had anticipated. “A jaeger?” Rean repeated. “Sure wasn't expecting that.”

Emma frowned. “I've heard that term before. The very best mercenary units are known as jaeger corps.”

“They're considered synonymous with the Grim Reaper,” Jusis said, shaking his head. “To think I've been going to school with a jaeger.”

Apparently puzzled, Fie tilted her head to one side. “Me, a reaper?”

If the situation wasn't so dire, Rean would have laughed at Jusis's reaction. “N-No, I didn't mean. . . .” He swiftly composed himself. “I spoke out of turn. I mustn't allow prejudices to get the better of me.”

Emma smiled. “That's right. Knowing her background doesn't change who she is now.”

Rean slowly nodded. “Thanks for telling us, Fie. I'm sorry for prying.”

“Not bothered,” Fie said. “But we'd better hurry if we want to save Machias.”

Trust a former jaeger to keep things practical. “You're right,” Rean said, smiling faintly. “Let's move.”

The guardhouse was almost as dank as the waterway they'd just traversed. A faint musty odor lingered in the air, making Rean's nose itch. Their footsteps echoed no matter how softly they tried to walk; hopefully there weren't many guards. Two or three they could probably neutralize.

“Who's there!?”

Rean smiled. Too easy. “It's us, Machias,” he whispered. “You okay?”

A brief scuffing sound, as their classmate came up to his cell door. “For now, yeah,” Machias said. “They were a little rough, but it was no worse than some of Instructor Sara's more outlandish classes.” His eyes shifted to his left. “You. . . .”

Jusis's lip twitched in a brief smirk. “You're holding up better than I had expected. I have to say, I'm impressed.”

“I don't need your—”

Rean held up a hand. “Quiet!” he hissed. “We're not alone here.”

He saw Fie press herself against the wall just as running footsteps neared their position. Sure enough, two young men in provincial army uniforms rounded the corner, rifles already half-raised. The pair stopped dead on seeing Rean and his classmates. Especially Jusis.

“L-Lord Jusis!” one gasped. “W-What are you doing here?”

Jusis drew his sword. “Much as I would like to praise you for a job well done, I'm afraid you'll have to take a short rest.”

“W-What are you—”

“Too late.” Fie nimbly stepped behind one of the men and tripped him up, driving a carefully-metered blow to the side of his neck as he fell. At almost the same moment, Rean lashed out, catching the other with a palm strike to the chin. The soldier's head snapped back, and he fell without a sound.

Jusis bent to retrieve the guards' weapons, while Fie busied herself with the cell door. “Impressive,” he said.

Keeping a wary eye out for more soldiers, Rean allowed himself a faint smile. “That was the Eight Leaves' eighth form,” he said. “Meant for use if we're caught without a weapon. It's primarily intended to capture an opponent's blade, but,” he nodded at the prone guards, “it has other uses, as you can see.”

The sharp bang of one of Fie's little bombs forestalled a reply. Machias half-staggered out of the cell, gawking at Fie as if he'd never seen her before. For her part, the ex-jaeger just looked innocent, though Rean had the sudden impression she was trolling Machias.

Amusing though it was, they were short on time. “Come on,” he said, passing over Machias's shotgun. “If we can just get out of the city, we should be safe.”

Holding the weapon like a lifeline, Machias nodded. “Right behind you. And Rean . . . thanks.”

As they ran, Rean silently thanked Aidios for both his own intensive training under Master Ka-fai and the standard Thors regimen. Despite fighting a bunch of monsters along the way, plus the brief scuffle in the cell block, none of them were so much as winded.

Which was fortunate, as it soon became clear they were being pursued. And not by humans; the footsteps were far too heavy. What the hell, he wondered irritably, could the provincial army have that made so much noise when it ran? Judging by the panting and growling, they had some very large and not entirely tame monsters.

“Worst day ever,” Machias grumbled as they reached an open area.

Now there was an understatement. With a deafening roar, their pursuers leaped into view. Quadrupedal, armored, and double the size of full-grown lions, they prowled around Rean's group, snarling past wicked-looking fangs. The only saving grace was that there were just two of them.

“Are they giant cats?” Emma wondered uneasily. “No, more like dogs.”

Machias clutched his shotgun in white-knuckled hands. “Is the provincial army taming monsters now!?”

“No one told me about it,” Jusis said irritably.

“Doesn't matter,” Fie said. “They're in the way, so we'll have to fight through them.”

Jusis smirked. “Fine with me. Bad dogs require stern discipline.” He brandished his sword for emphasis, and glanced at Machias. “Regnitz, I believe this is the perfect opportunity.”

The bespectacled commoner smiled tightly. “For once, I agree with you. Ready when you are.”

Finally. Rean caught Fie's eye and grinned. She nodded back. “Okay, Emma, you support Jusis and Machias. Fie and I can handle the other one.”

“Right,” Emma acknowledged.

“Ja,” Fie agreed.

Rean set himself. “All right. Class VII, Group A, let's end this field study with a bang!”

Fittingly, the first thing he heard was a loud bang, in the form of Machias blasting one of the beasts in the face at point-blank range. Either it had a thicker skull than it looked, or the armor was extra tough, because while it roared with pain, it didn't hesitate to strike back. Or try to; Jusis aimed a slash at its foreleg, forcing it back.

Rean had little attention to spare for that, however. He jumped backward, pivoted on one foot, and slashed his target across the nose. A couple of arge away, he was aware of Fie leaping behind it, her gun-swords opening deep wounds in the canine's flank.

“Rean, go!” she yelled.

He held his sword point down. “Flames, gather on my blade!” he shouted, and charged, the flaming tachi scorching through the beast's armor and flesh alike. Combined with a fusillade from Fie, and it soon crumpled.

“Break Shot!” Machias held his shotgun at arm's length. In front of him, the other beast's head armor had finally shattered.

Giving Jusis an opening. Blue light erupted from his sword, encasing the monster in a dome of crystal. “Your end is sure! Crystal Saber!” He slashed in an X pattern, releasing an energy burst that practically shattered the remaining canine abomination.

The battle had been short, but intense, intense enough that Rean almost fell to his knees. Emma and Machias were even worse off, and Jusis was looking more than a little undignified. Fie, of course, wasn't even breathing hard; it was probably little more than a light workout for her.

“We . . . we won,” Machias gasped. His hair was plastered to his skull with sweat, but he was grinning triumphantly.

Jusis had for once lost some of his usual poise. “I suppose we can call that . . . a success,” he said, eying Machias. “You're grinning like an idiot.”

“Look who's talking!” Machias shot back.

Emma laughed, more out of simple relief than anything else. “We solved the combat link problem, and saved Machias, too.”

“Couldn't have ended better,” Rean said, sheathing his sword. “Can't wait to tell the others.”

A shrill whistle split the air, instantly souring their jubilant mood. Half a dozen provincial army soldiers swept around them, forming a ring Rean remembered all too well from Celdic. His hand immediately went to his sword, though there wasn't really much he could do. He could take them, certainly, but the repercussions would be very bad.

An officer approached them, the same man who headed the arrest party. “You've pushed your luck too far this time,” he said icily. “Are you that anxious to be thrown in a cell with Regnitz!?”

“If you want to arrest us, be my guest,” Jusis said, stepping forward.

The officer actually took a step back. “L-Lord Jusis!? What are you doing here!? I thought you were locked in the mansion!”

Rean was very glad the look in Jusis's eyes wasn't directed at him. “I chose to return to my studies,” he said coldly, folding his arms. “Accusing my classmates will implicate me as well. Are you really prepared to take that step?”

One of the soldiers gulped. “W-We couldn't possibly aim our rifles at Lord Jusis!”

“Silence!” the officer barked. “Not even Lord Jusis has the right to trespass in a military facility! Much less release a suspect in our custody, directly opposing the orders of His Grace the Duke!”

Jusis's expression turned cold, cold as a Ymir winter. “Enough,” he said. “We may not be the best of friends,” he gave Machias an almost respectful nod, “but I am Jusis Albarea, and I will not stand by as one of my classmates is arrested on false charges, to be used as a tool in some political game!” He bared his teeth. “Not even my father the Duke is above the law!”

Most of the soldiers were visibly cowed. The officer, unfortunately, was not. “We have our orders, and nothing you say will change that. Arrest them, Lord Jusis included.”

“That won't be necessary.”

Rean had only met the owner of that voice once before, but there was no mistake. Standing as if he'd been there the whole time was Lord Rufus Albarea, the ace of the Noble Faction. He seemed amiable enough, but the way his hand lingered near the sword at his hip was telling.

The way the officer suddenly went pale was very satisfying indeed. “L-Lord Rufus!?” he yelped.

“Impossible,” Jusis breathed. “How did you. . .?”

“I received a message at noon today, and returned from the capital by airship as quickly as I was able.” Rufus smiled faintly. “With your instructor.”

A familiar laugh wafted over. “And it looks like you've done a fine job!” Sara Valestein said, grinning.

Okay, I knew she was good, but how did she pull this off!? Rean supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, but even for someone like Instructor Sara, suddenly appearing with Rufus Albarea was more than a little uncanny. There had to be something more at work.

“I'll take care of matters here,” Rufus said. “Return to your posts.”

The officer paled further, but didn't seem quite ready to back down. “B-But Lord Rufus, with all due respect. . . .”

Rufus was suddenly no longer amiable. “I've already informed my father,” he said coldly. “Or do you intend to embarrass me, beyond your other transgressions?”

Note to self: do not cross this guy.

“O-Of course not!” the officer stammered. “Second company, withdraw!”

Sara watched them go with a look of faint amusement. “They're well trained, I'll give them that.”

“Naturally,” Rufus said. “The provincial army takes its training very seriously. I only wish it wasn't used for such crude aims.”

Machias could no longer contain himself. “H-How did you get here, anyway!? Not that I'm complaining, mind.”

“Your timing is just a little too convenient,” Fie said.

You got that right.

“Did you hear it from the provincial army?” Emma wondered.

Sara smiled airily. “Nope, I got word from an old friend of mine. Soon as it reached my ears, I was on my feet and getting in contact with the director here.” She nodded at Rufus. “And he was kind enough to give me a ride in his airship.”

Rean shook his head. “You have me at a loss for words.”

“How you manage to be so prepared, I will never understand,” Jusis said, bemused. Then his head shot up, eyes fixing on his brother. “Wait, you're. . . .”

Their instructor laughed. “You don't know yet?”

Clearly enjoying himself, Rufus nodded. “I happen to serve as a permanent member of the academy's board of directors. Perhaps we'll have the opportunity to meet again in that capacity.”

Okay, that I never would have expected. Rean frowned. Though it does explain a lot. How he knew we were coming, why he of all people assigned out field study tasks.

“And why am I only now hearing about this!?” Jusis demanded.

Rufus laughed. “I wanted to see the look on your face when you found out. Of course, I'm not the only member of the board. I'm simply one of three permanent members.”
“I wondered how you knew so much about Class VII,” Rean said. “It's not something that's been widely publicized, after all.”

“Indeed,” Rufus said, and sighed. “Still, to think my father would do something so brazen while I was away. He's always been an obstinate man, but he's simply gone too far this time. As a member of the board, and of House Albarea, I simply cannot condone the unlawful arrest of a student.” He looked at Machias. “I must apologize to you in particular, for what you went through today.”

Apparently moved more than he cared to admit, Machias offered a shaky smile. “Thank you for your concern.”

There was, of course, some bureaucratic nonsense to work through before they could actually leave. Duke Albarea didn't show his face, but that wasn't really surprising. Having his little scheme blow up in his face—derailed by his own son no less—had to be humiliating.

Still, watching the scenery whip by as the train brought them home, Rean couldn't help worrying. Tension between factions was to be expected, but for Duke Albarea to try something so brazen, not to mention illegal, suggested it was worse than even Jusis had suggested. And that had him concerned for his own family.

The others, he noticed, looked as tired as he felt. Granted that was hardly unusual for Fie, but even Jusis looked at most half awake. To be fair, the last couple of days had been trying even by Thors standards, both physically and emotionally.

Not everyone saw it that way, of course. “And you call yourselves teenagers!” Sara said with a theatrical sigh. “You actually get to sleep at night, unlike me. You should be full of energy this time of day!”

Rean groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Give me a break.”

“After everything that happened in Bareahard,” Emma put in, “I think we can be excused for being more tired than usual.”

“Point taken,” Sara conceded. “Group B had their share of problems, but not this bad. Similar kind, though.”

Jusis narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“I think it means the others had their own run-in with the clash between factions,” Machias said, wincing just a little.

Sara nodded. “Pretty much. Saint-Arkh is held by another of the Four Great Houses, after all. So they got themselves caught up in a bit of trouble. Got through it in the end, though.”

Privately, Rean pitied any Sutherland Provincial Army people who went up against Laura or Gaius. Or even Elliot, for that matter; musician or no, he was downright terrifying with arts when he wanted to be.

“Aurochs Fortress is nothing to worry about, is it?” Fie said, frowning. “I mean, it's beyond a joke, even with those Achtzehns.”

Sara shrugged. “So I've heard. They're not the only ones beefing up their armaments; so is the Imperial Army.” Her lip twisted. “With the Blood and Iron Chancellor and his twenty armored divisions right at the center of it all.”

She really doesn't like Chancellor Osborne. I wonder what's up with that.

“Instructor,” Emma said hesitantly, “how should the academy—no, how should we act in a situation like this? Thors graduates join both Imperial and provincial militaries, right?”

Sara smiled and shook her head. “There's nothing for you to be worrying about, not right now at least. You're at the academy to learn, that's what you should be focusing on. It's true, you may be forced to acknowledge some of the more . . . unpleasant realities of Erebonia, but I believe there's something special to be gained from that, something you can only gain now, at this moment in time. So long as you're together with your friends and classmates, people for whom there is no substitute.” She leaned back in her seat. “Maybe when you graduate and head out into the world, what you learn at Thors will have little meaning. But I still truly believe that sometime, somehow, what you experience as part of Class VII will be an invaluable treasure to you.”

There was a long silence, during which she looked at her students expectantly. When they did finally react, it clearly wasn't what she was aiming for; almost as one, Group A burst out laughing. They simply couldn't help themselves; hearing that kind of speech from Sara Valestein was just too much.

“You . . . almost had me there,” Machias said, wiping his eyes.

Jusis smirked. “That was the last thing I expected to hear from you of all people.”

Sara's mouth worked. “What with all the laughing!?”

“I'm really sorry,” Emma said, still chuckling. “It's just that your words were. . . .”

“Painfully droll,” Fie said.

Not something I expected from you, Fie.

Jusis folded his arms. “Something we can only gain now, as long as we're with our friends and classmates, for whom there is no substitute.”

“Stop it!” Machias protested. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I was being serious, you know!” Sara protested hotly.

And she certainly had a point. Still, Rean couldn't entirely agree with her. Given his own position, he couldn't afford to ignore the clash between the factions, and the same held true, he knew, for Laura and especially Jusis. And Machias, for that matter, since his father was governor of Heimdallr.

Speaking of Machias, he was looking oddly pensive. “Something on your mind, Machias?” Rean asked.

The other hesitated. “I'm sorry to ask this, but after what we went through I need to know. Is your father part of the Noble Faction?”

Rean shook his head, smiling. “I don't blame you, and no, he isn't, at least not last I heard. He's no fan of Marquis Rogner, that's for sure.”

Satisfied, Machias visibly relaxed. “Thanks for understanding.” He paused. “You know, I think I'd like to meet Baron Schwarzer someday.”

“As would I,” Jusis said quietly. “I could learn from a man like him.”

No mystery where that came from. “I'm sure the chance will come sooner or later,” Rean said. “Really, I'd love to show you all around Ymir.”

It would, he suspected, make for an interesting visit. His mother would undoubtedly fuss over Class VII (especially Fie), and make sure they got plenty of hot food. It would of course fall to Rean himself to acquaint his classmates with the town and its environs.

He was looking forward to it.

The rainy season had come early. Or so it seemed, at least; the moment Group B had stepped out of Trista Station, they were greeted by a ferocious downpour. Luckily the station was within easy walking distance of Class VII's dorm, but they still got thoroughly soaked along the way.

And it still, in Elliot's opinion at least, beat what they'd had to deal with in Saint-Arkh. Not that all of his teammates agreed; Alisa, on seeing Group A was already back, immediately scurried upstairs, sternly warning Rean to not follow her. For once, Elliot didn't blame her; the soaked uniform clung just a little too well.

Regardless, after a quick shower and some hot food, Elliot was feeling human again. “I hear things went a bit crazy in Bareahard,” he said, settling on one of the couches in the common room.

Groaning, Rean closed his eyes. “Don't remind me,” he said. “At least none of your group were arrested.” He smiled a bit wanly. “On the plus side, Jusis and Machias can finally form a combat link, even if they're still not exactly friends, and Fie's starting to come out of her shell.”

Elliot nodded absently, his gaze drifting over to the silver-haired girl. Though still on the reserved side, Fie had dropped the apathetic mask she'd worn since enrolling. Seeing her chatting with Alisa and Emma, she actually looked and sounded like a normal person now. Or as normal as anyone in Class VII ever got.

A former jaeger. Never saw that one coming. Elliot recalled his father saying very unkind things about jaeger corps, but Fie was nice enough. Strange (Elliot had difficulty wrapping his mind around a former mercenary joining the Gardening Club of all things), but nice.

Not wanting to be caught staring, he let his eyes wander to the nearest window. The rain, he thought, lent Trista an almost ethereal quality, a sense of being adrift in time. The perfect backdrop for a sedate violin piece, though he might have been romanticizing a bit too much.

He felt a brief pang, recalling the Music Academy in Heimdallr, but it wasn't as intense as it had been just a month before. For all his disagreements with his father, for all that his eventual choice had been a compromise, Elliot found he liked Thors. Sure, the coursework was hard, but it was also very rewarding, and far more comprehensive than he would have gotten just studying music. And, he had to admit, learning to fight was something of a confidence-builder, even if he was still sure he would choke in a real war.

“Ah, the gang's all here. Good, I need to talk to you for a few minutes.” Sara grinned at the apprehensive looks she got from Alisa and Machias. “Oh, don't worry, nobody's in trouble. I just want to get you up to speed on an important detail on the ARCUS.”

Rean, Elliot noted, looked both suspicious and resigned. “Is this about link compatibility?”

Sara smirked. “Got in one. As you can see, everyone, Rean already knows, 'cause I talked it over with him last month, just after your first field study. What it boils down to is, some combat link combinations work better than others, and while we haven't tried all the combinations in your class yet, we've got enough for a baseline.”

“That sounds interesting,” Gaius said, his eyebrows lifting slightly. “I know it feels different depending on who I link with.”

Sara nodded. “The ranking is on a scale from one to one hundred. All of the combinations you've tried so far have a high enough score to at least be useful in a fight, but I've seen a couple that really stand out. Jusis and Machias, for example, when they finally managed to form a link, got a rating of eighty-seven.”

Which made sense, from what Elliot had heard about that fight in the Bareahard waterway. He wondered about Rean, though; the noble swordsman wore an expression of almost comical dread.

Sara's next words explained it. “At the very top, though, we have Rean and Laura, with a compatibility rating of ninety-eight.”

Dead silence, as the rest of the class stared at the two swordsmen. It made sense in theory, sure. Elliot had seen them in action both in Celdic and the old schoolhouse, and the way they fought together almost seemed like they were sharing thoughts. But a ninety-eight? Was that even possible?

Laura looked at once embarrassed and intrigued by the news. “Interesting,” she murmured. “Perhaps it's our shared passion for the blade that allows us to work together so well.”

As good an explanation as any, though Sara clearly thought there was more at work. For his part, Elliot wasn't going anywhere near it; Rean and Laura were among the most dangerous people at Thors, first-years though they were, and he wasn't about to test the limits. Especially with Rean's habit of setting his sword on fire.

“Anyway, once all the combinations have been tested, you'll be able to see the raw numbers for yourselves,” Sara was saying. “Keep them in mind when you're setting up combat formations.”

Well. The next few months were going to be very interesting.

Chapter Text

Elliot carefully edged his way through the crowd, mumbling apologies as needed. He couldn't recall the gymnasium being this crowded, certainly not the area where the Fencing Club met. While combat training was obviously a core part of the Thors curriculum regardless of class, it didn't seem like the kind of thing that would draw this much of a crowd.

He had a bad moment when he collided with someone in noble white, but thankfully it was Bridget, a friend of his from the Wind Orchestra and one of the nicest people at Thors. “Sorry,” he choked out.

Smiling, the blonde pianist helped him steady himself. “Don't worry about it. I thought you wouldn't want to miss the show.”

“What show?” Elliot frowned.

Bridget pointed toward the center. “Two of your classmates are having an exhibition match, Lord Rean and Lady Laura.”

“Don't let Rean hear you say that,” Elliot said automatically. Then, “Wait, what? Rean and Laura are going to duel in front of practically the whole school!?”

Somewhat bemused, Bridget nodded. “I hear it was originally going to be a private thing, then Instructor Valestein got wind of it and decided it would be good for everyone's combat training, though attendance is voluntary. You'd know better than I do what she's up to.”

Not really. She likes to toss us off the deep end, but I have no idea what she's thinking here.

Squeezing a bit farther forward, he saw Instructor Sara wasn't the only faculty member present. Instructor Beatrix was off to one side, presumably in case the combatants got a little carried away, and he could see Instructor/Major Neithardt near the training floor. Standing beside Instructor Sara was the unmistakable form of Principal Vandyck, the only person at Thors who stood taller than Gaius.

Finally spotting his other classmates, Elliot waved a hand. “Is this really happening?” he asked, coming to stand between Fie and Jusis.

“Look for yourself,” Jusis said, nodding at the training floor.

Sure enough, Rean and Laura stood facing each other a couple of arge apart. Though neither had yet drawn steel, they were both taking it very seriously, no doubt as much because of their devotion to their studies as the presence of so many witnesses.

“Crow Armbrust from Class V wanted to sell tickets,” Machias said, “but Student Council President Herschel stopped him.” He sounded at once amused and apprehensive.

Though no swordsman himself, Elliot would have bought one in a heartbeat. Even if he wasn't a military student, the chance to see a match like this didn't come every day. And judging by the size of the crowd, most of the Thors student body agreed; he could even see Patrick Hyarms with a couple of his lackeys.

Principal Vandyck took a step forward. “Pay close attention to what you see here today,” he said. “You are about to witness a rare sight, a clash between the Arseid school and the Eight Leaves. Regardless of who emerges victorious, I have no doubt both will learn a great deal from the experience. I hope all of you do as well.” He nodded to Instructor Sara.

She raised a hand. “Combatants, draw your weapons!” Steel rasped on wood as Rean and Laura obeyed, their movements smooth and economical. Sara's hand sliced down. “Begin!”

It wasn't like court fencing, even a layman like Elliot could tell that much. Though he knew pretty much nothing of swordsmanship outside of what he learned in class, it was obvious Rean was significantly faster, his tachi a nigh-invisible blur.

“What do you think, Jusis?” Gaius asked. “I don't know much about swords, but this looks like a pretty even match. Laura's stronger, but Rean's faster.”

“Essentially my thoughts,” Jusis agreed. “I for one cannot begin to guess how this duel will end.”

Alisa snorted. “Hopefully without them in the infirmary,” she said darkly. “Honestly, at this rate they'll slice each other to pieces.”

“No, they won't,” Fie said. “They're both good enough to know when to hold back. Doubt Rean's going to be setting his sword on fire or anything.”

Emma glanced down at her, just a bit nervously. “You sound like you want to join in.”

Fie shrugged. “Back in the corps, I never ran into someone trained in the Eight Leaves. Might be fun.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Jusis said. “You must've heard what Cassius Bright did two years ago. As I recall, the jaegers he faced came off rather the worse.”

A loud clang nearly made Elliot jump out of his skin. Rean and Laura were caught in a blade lock, and despite the Arseid heir's superior strength, Rean appeared to be holding her back. Something to do with leverage, Elliot supposed, though he couldn't begin to guess how Rean was doing it.

There was a scraping sound as they broke apart, both whirling about. Again the blades clashed, again with neither gaining an advantage. For most people it would have been frustrating, but Elliot saw a light in his friends' eyes; they were enjoying it immensely.

“Is this just a game to them?” Alisa wondered. “This is the first time I've seen Laura have so much fun outside a swimming pool.”

“Yes and no,” Jusis said. “I know my way around a blade, certainly, but for me it's just another skill. For them,” he nodded at the scene before them, “it is a way of life unto itself.”

Recalling what they'd said about it back in Celdic, Elliot nodded in agreement. Even he could tell they were putting heart and soul into every swing, every step. Like he'd said on their first day, if this was Rean being hesitant, confidence would make him unstoppable.

“Still, Rean is hesitating, just a little,” Jusis said, as if reading Elliot's thoughts. He frowned. “Almost as if he was . . . afraid.”

Elliot traded glances with Alisa. “That part, well, let's just say something really bad happened a couple years after your visit. It's why I chose to study the Eight Leaves, and probably why I didn't remember you. I'm . . . not ready to talk about that yet.” He remembered those words well, and could tell Alisa did, too. What was it that Rean was so afraid of?

Another resounding clang echoed through the room. Rean and Laura were both on their knees; for the life of him, Elliot couldn't tell who won.

“Draw,” Fie said simply.

It was quite possibly the most exhausted Rean had been since Master Ka-fai had cut his training short. Not even the impromptu fight with Instructor Sara a month earlier had taken this much out of him. Laura, he reflected, clearly took after her father.

Though at the moment she appeared every bit as drained. Which admittedly wasn't all that surprising, if only because of the sheer size of her sword. The mere fact that she was able to swing it so easily—or at all—was proof she was the strongest first year.<

“So, we have no clear winner,” the principal said. “I must admit, I did not expect this. Though, given your prowess, perhaps I should have.” He smiled. “Regardless, that was a splendid match. I hope you both continue to hone your skills.”

Rean heaved himself upright. “You can count on that, sir,” he said. In the corner of his eye, he saw Patrick Hyarms glaring at him. What the heck is his problem?

“Agreed,” Laura said. “That is why I enrolled here.” She held her hand out, smiling. “That was an excellent duel, Rean.”

He clasped her hand firmly. “Sure was. Made me realize how far I still have to go.”

The assembled students, he noticed, were still staring rather fixedly at them. Mostly it appeared to be simple awe at what they had just seen, though Rean thought that something of an overreaction. On a few faces, though, he saw something else. Crow Armbrust was smirking, and that Vivi girl who was constantly pranking her twin (and everyone else in the vicinity, Rean included) had a glint in her eye that suggested she was plotting something insane.

One of the upper-class students approached. Fortunately, one of the nicer ones, Friedel, captain of the Fencing Club. “That was the best fight I've seen since I've been here,” she said. “I know you both have a lot on your plates, but could you perhaps come by once in a while for a demonstration? Give the club something to aspire to.”

Sounded reasonable enough. “I can probably make the time,” Rean said. “Laura?”

“I have no objections,” she agreed. “Indeed, it will be my pleasure to help budding swordsmen reach their full potential.”

Off to one side, Patrick make a strangled sound; clearly, he disagreed very strongly with the idea. Too bad for him.

“With that said, I think our young swordsmen could use a rest,” Vandyck said. “Very well done, both of you.”

A rest sounded like exactly what Rean needed. After a shower and a meal; crossing swords with someone like Laura was a good way to work up a sweat and an appetite. Thankfully, the crowd was already starting to thin out, save for Patrick and a couple others from the Fencing Club. Even the rest of Class VII were on their way out.

Probably because of the weather. The clouds he'd noticed earlier had darkened considerably. Odds were the skies were going to open up well before curfew. If he kept a brisk walk, he could probably make it back to the dorm without being drenched.

“Rean,” Laura said softly, “would you like to stop for some tea on the way back? The cafe is close enough to our dorm that we can probably get back from there without drowning.”

Rean almost warned her that people would talk, but stopped himself in time. For one thing, it would have been incredibly disrespectful to one of his closest friends; for another, people were already talking about them. Declining such an invitation would thus serve no purpose.

“Sure,” he said. “I'd like to study for midterms, but there's no way my brain is going to absorb anything useful just now.”

Laura laughed. “I know exactly what you mean.”

It wasn't yet raining when they stepped past Thors' main gate, but the weather was clearly headed in that direction. Rean could smell it in the air, a kind of pleasant heaviness. Around him he saw people scurrying to get more vulnerable items inside, especially at the floral shop.

They reached Kirsche's Cafe just as a light drizzle started. As usual, they were far from the only Thors students; Machias was sitting alone at a table near the door, nursing a cup of coffee. Elliot and Gaius were sitting near the counter talking in low tones, presumably about art and/or music.

Rean and Laura chose a table next to a window and ordered tea. Rean soon found his gaze drifting to the gentle downpour outside. It seemed to clear his mind, in a way, washing his thoughts of worry just as it washed Trista's streets of dirt and grime.

“I must say, your skill has improved dramatically,” Laura remarked. “Even since our first field study.”

Rean shrugged. “Exploring the old schoolhouse is good training, not to mention the practical exams are a major incentive.” He paused as their tea was served. “What do you think of what Instructor Sara said, the link compatibility thing?”

It was delicate issue, but one they couldn't avoid. Rean was more than half convinced their insane instructor had only been half joking with her crack about soul mates, especially given his insanely high compatibility with the young woman in front of him.

Laura pursed her lips. “On the surface, I see no issues. Since aptitude for the ARCUS units varies from one person to another, it stands to reason some combinations would work better than others. Having said that. . . .”

“There may be effects they aren't telling us about,” Rean said. “Or maybe that they don't even know about; Alisa's been complaining about the experimental nature of ARCUS since our first day here.”

“Indeed.” Laura nodded. “And since you and I have the highest rating, I believe it is incumbent upon us to learn as much about this effect as we can.”

Rean certainly wasn't about to complain. “I agree. Assuming we can survive Instructor Sara's teasing, at least.”

Laura blushed, but still couldn't help chuckling. “I can think of worse fates.”

Over a week later, it was still raining more often than not. Rean had experienced such before, of course; it wasn't like Ymir was dry, after all. On the other hand, he wasn't used to such consistent rain, for days or even weeks at a time. Snow, yes, rain, no.

Of course, the chill in his bones had nothing to do with the weather. “All right, everybody,” Instructor Sara said. “As you know, tomorrow is the start of your midterm exams. Now, I'm no good with all these papers and essays and circling answer, so I won't be able to help you much.”

How, exactly, did you get to be an instructor?

“But I'm administering some of your tests, so I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines. Make me proud, class!”

Rean sighed. “You know, sometimes I lie awake at night wondering how you got to be our teacher.”

“And I seem to recall you're in for a lecture from the vice principal if our grades aren't up to par,” Alisa added, eyes narrowing.

The instructor shrugged carelessly. “Oh, I'm not worried. Most of you tend to get pretty good grades anyway, or you wouldn't be in Class VII.” She smiled. “I can hardly wait to see how well you do.”

Yeah, no pressure there.

“Remember, the results will be announced next Wednesday. Your scores will be posted on the board by rank, so you can see how you compare to other classes in your year.”
Just in time for the practical exam. I can't wait.

Elliot made a sound that was half sigh, half groan. “The sooner this week is over, the better.”

“I can just taste the tedium,” Fie agreed.

You said it, Fie.

“I'm not letting Emma squeak by me this time,” Machias half-muttered, drawing a nervous chuckle from the class president.

“One more thing.” Sara's cheeky grin was somehow more frightening than that baboon creature from Lunaria Nature Park. “They're also going to stick the average score for each class on the board.”
Jusis snorted. “I suppose the idea is to furnish us with motivation in the form of class bragging rights,” he said in a dust-dry voice.

“I certainly don't object to a challenge,” Laura said.

For himself, Rean was more in line with Elliot and Fie. He certainly enjoyed stretching himself, but the monotony of exams was the exact opposite as far as he was concerned. If what he'd heard from Crow and Towa was any indication, it was likely to be downright soul-crushing for someone like him.

“I know it's only noonish, but that's enough homeroom for today,” Sara said. “You can stay here and study or head back to the dorm. Up to you.”

After the usual formalities, Rean dejectedly gathered his books. He for one planned to stick around for a while to get some last-minute studying in. The last thing he needed or wanted was that idiot Hyarms lording it over him. Thank Aidios he'd avoided Class I.

“Now what?” Elliot groaned. “I could really stand to bone up on everything right now, but my biggest worry is math.”

“I wouldn't mind doing a few study sessions with you, if you think it would help,” Machias offered. “I need to review math anyway, though I'm not sure how much time I'll have to spare.”

The musician practically sagged with relief. “Really? That would be a huge help!”

Gaius allowed himself a chuckle. “My biggest weak point is Erebonian history, which I doubt comes as a surprise to anyone. I think I understand what we've gone over in class, but there are a few fine points I'm not entirely sure of.”

“I could lend a hand, if you'd like,” Jusis said. “Though in return, I would appreciate a fresh pair of eyes to help revise my military science essay.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Gaius assured him.

Rean covered a smile. His fellow noble really had come a long way since Bareahard. While still a bit stuffy at times, Jusis was no longer standoffish, and had made a point of socializing more with his classmates. Especially Elliot, showing a keen interest in violin music and even attending one of the Wind Orchestra's practice sessions. He still bickered with Machias, of course.

“Would you like to study with me, Fie?”

The former jaeger shrugged at Emma's words. “Might as well.”

“Mind if I jump in?” Alisa asked. “I could really use a refresher in the classics.”

“Of course,” Emma said. “What about you, Laura?”

The blue-haired girl hesitated. Rean wasn't sure, but it looked like she was looking at Fie. Not for the first time, he wondered what was up with that; ever since they'd gotten back from their field study, Laura and Fie had been strangely awkward.

“Thank you for the invitation, but I'm afraid I have to decline this time,” she said at last. “There's a subject I need to review in private.”

Rean watched her go with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He'd only just reconciled with Machias, and gotten him and Jusis to at least be civil with each other. The idea of more friction between classmates, with exams imminent no less, was a headache waiting to happen.

“Any idea what's up with her?” Alisa asked quietly.

What am I, the class psychologist? “I wish I knew,” Rean said, shrugging vaguely. “Really, though, why ask me?”

Alisa rolled her eyes. “Come on, Rean. I don't think anyone at Thors has the kind of rapport with Laura that you have. And don't even try to deny it; I've seen how you two work together.”

“She has a point,” Jusis said with a faint smile. “Especially given your ARCUS link compatibility rating.”

Groaning softly, Rean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don't remind me. Instructor Sara made a crack about soul mates when I talked to her after Celdic. I think she was joking, but with her it's hard to tell.”

“You got that right,” Elliot said feelingly. “Still, shouldn't you talk to Laura? Maybe you can get something out of her the rest of us can't.”

“You're ganging up on me,” Rean complained, and sighed wearily. “Okay, okay, I'll see what I can do. After midterms, though; this isn't something worth failing a major test for.” He stood, lifting his bag. “I'm going to get some last-minute studying in, then head back to the dorm. See you guys later.”

The library, he thought, would be an ideal spot. Thankful that he'd remembered to bring an umbrella, Rean paused just outside the main building, savoring the sense of peace he felt in the gentle rain. He could see a handful of students milling about even in the downpour, notably aspiring merchants Becky and Hugo. Despite her odd accent, he recalled Becky hailed from Celdic, while Hugo if memory served was already in some kind of apprenticeship with a major corporation.

Better get moving. Rean took it at a leisurely stroll, his footsteps somehow dulled by the rain. Unsurprisingly, there were quite a few students in the library; he saw Machias and Elliot at one of the study tables on the lower level. Nodding a greeting, he went up the stairs and nearly collided with Instructor Thomas.

“Hello, there, Rean!” the history teacher said with a smile. “What brings you here on this dreary day?”

Well aware that he was walking into a minefield, Rean sighed. “Studying for exams, naturally.”

Thomas's glasses seemed to gleam. “In that case, how about a quick refresher?”

Desperately wishing he was somewhere else, Rean could think of no polite way to decline, and in any case he really did need to review things. So for the next fifteen minutes he listened patiently as Thors' quirkiest instructor waxed downright poetic on Emperor Dreichels and the War of the Lions.

By the end, he had to admit the talk was genuinely useful, albeit exhausting. Bidding Instructor Thomas goodbye, Rean scanned the shelves, eventually settling on a book about macroeconomics. The material made his eyes glaze over often as not, but it was still better than getting low marks in Vice-Principal Heinrich's class.

An hour later, and he'd done all the studying he could stand. It was as if his brain had shut down, flatly refusing to accept any more input. Making a mental note to get in a bit more sword practice before bed, he grabbed his umbrella and stepped into the rainy afternoon.

“Excuse me.”

Rean blinked in surprise. Not three arge away was a young woman in a purple maid's outfit. She looked to be in her early twenties, with short hair of a similar color to Emma's, only a few shades lighter. He supposed she was a new hire for the upper-class dormitory; at least, he couldn't think of any other reason for an unfamiliar maid to show up at Thors. Yet there was something about her, something that suggested she was more than she seemed.

“I do apologize for disturbing you on a rainy day like this,” the maid said. “Do you know if this is the building in which I might find the principal's office?”

Okay, huh? “That's right,” Rean said. “East wing, first floor. Would you like me to show you there?”

The maid smiled. “Oh, no, that won't be necessary. I've taken enough of your time already; I'm sure I can find my own way. Thank you for your kindness, Master Rean.”

She stepped past him with a slight bow, her mannerisms so smooth and natural that at first Rean didn't register the oddity. “Wait a second,” he said, frowning at the door. “How did she know my name?”

“Rean?”

That voice was more familiar. “Hi, Alisa,” he greeted. “Heading back to the dorm?”

“Sure am,” Alisa said. “Emma and the others are staying to cram a little more, but I've learned pretty much all my brain will let me.”

Rean winced. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Anyway, since we're going the same way, why not head back together?”

Alisa smiled. “Fine with me.”

They strolled down Trista's nearly-empty main street, chatting amiably. Rean couldn't help contrasting it with the first couple of weeks at Thors, when Alisa would barely speak a word to him. Aside from her occasional glares when she thought (mistakenly) that he was being a pervert, that was long gone.

“We don't do this very often, do we?” she remarked.

Rean chuckled. “At least I got something good out of this downpour.”

Alisa rolled her eyes. “Is there even a filter between your brain and your mouth?”

There it was. “You sound like my sister,” Rean said. “No need for that between friends, is there?”

“She must have the patience of a saint, putting up with you all these years.” Despite the exasperated sigh, though, there was no real bite in Alisa's words. “Anyway, how do you think you'll do on the exams?”

Rean shrugged. “I studied as much as I could stand, even got an extra lecture from Instructor Thomas.” He laughed at the look on Alisa's face. “That aside, it's in Aidios's hands. I've done all I could.” Smiling at Alisa's giggle, he glanced back the way they'd come. “I wish I was as smart as you, though. Didn't only Emma and Machias score higher on the entrance exam?”

“Jusis, too,” Alisa replied. “I always scored near the top on exams back home. Guess that goes to show Erebonia has no shortage of smart people.”

Rean's lip twisted. “You can say that again. Bookworms pour in from all over the Empire. You're from Roer, right? Coming out on top in a city that size is still quite an achievement.”

Alisa shrugged. “I suppose, but that was just Sunday School level.” She paused, a strange mix of emotion crossing her face. “Aren't you curious? About, you know, my family and stuff?”

“You mean the mysterious 'Alisa R.,' agent of national intrigue?” Rean chuckled. “Sure I am. But I'm sure you have good reasons for keeping it under wraps, so I don't want to pry. Besides,” he smiled ruefully, “after I kept my family background secret, I'm in no position to talk.”

“It's not that major,” Alisa said, shaking her head, “especially compared to you and Fie.”

“I've never thought my family circumstances were that big a deal,” Rean said. “Fie, now, that was quite a surprise. Looking at her, I have to wonder what life in a jaeger corps was like.”

Alisa nodded slowly. “Instructor Sara seems to know a lot about it. Back at the opening ceremony, I got the impression they'd met before.”

“Same here,” Rean said. “And speaking of weird meetings, I ran into someone kinda strange earlier. Just before you called me, I was talking to a woman in a maid uniform. She somehow knew my name.”

A blond eyebrow lifted. “A maid who knew your name? Is this the part where it turns out she knows you because you tried to hit on her in town?”

Trust Alisa to draw that conclusion. “As if I could pull off the Casanova act,” Rean said. “She looked about twenty or so.”

“A maid in her early twenties. . . .” Alisa trailed off, frowning, then shook her head. “It couldn't be. Mother keeps her way too busy. Maybe the upper classes have a new hire? Though it wouldn't explain how she knew your mane. Maybe you're more popular than you realize.”

The idea was ridiculous on its face. Still, Rean couldn't help wondering at the look in Alisa's eyes. There was something worrying her, that much was clear.

By the second day of exams, Rean was thinking longingly of his training under Master Ka-fai. It had been hard, certainly, but not insurmountably so. Granted midterm exams weren't, either, but that wasn't the real problem. No, the real problem was mind-numbing, soul-crushing boredom.

That, and writer's cramp. Adopted or no, Rean was nobility, and as such had received extensive literary education. Sadly, it wasn't enough to prepare his hands for the pain of paper after paper. Holding a sword, he reflected darkly, was so much easier.

Though it felt like an eternity, it was really less than a week. Soon enough, he and his friends were set free from the torment.

“Congratulations on making it through four days of exams!” Sara Valestein looked at her class with obvious pride, then out the window. “And I do believe the rain ended right along with them. Clearly this is Aidios's way of rewarding you for all your hard work.” She grinned.

Alisa rolled her eyes. “Somehow, I don't think that reasoning would stand up to any real scrutiny.” She was, Rean couldn't help noticing, far less energetic than usual.

“Man, I'm seriously spent,” Elliot said. He seemed barely able to even sit up.

Even Fie was visibly exhausted. “It's over. Finally.”

“Anyway, today's a free day, so by all means take the time to work off that post-exam stress,” Sara said. “They'll post the results next Wednesday, so go ahead and take it easy till then. But not too much, since you'll have your next practical that day, too.”

And we'll find out where you've decided to send us this month.

“Ugh, I'd completely forgotten, what with all the studying,” Machias groaned.

“Indeed,” Jusis agreed. “You could stand to be a little more considerate with your timing, Instructor.”

Rean leaned back wearily. “Then you'll tell us about our next field study, right?”

“Yep,” Sara confirmed. “You'll be shipping out to an exotic location next weekend. But for now, just make the most of your time off. Believe me, you'll need it.”

Rean certainly believed her, as did the rest of his classmates. Considering both field studies they'd been through thus far had gotten violent for one reason or another, he made a mental note to get back to his sword training once he'd had a chance to rest.

“One more thing,” Sara said. “I've got some business out of town after we're done here, I won't be back until tomorrow evening, so don't burn the dorm down while I'm gone, 'kay?”

Instructor, I don't think any of us are quite that irresponsible. You, on the other hand. . . .

Regardless. With a yawn and a stretch, Rean got to his feet. He had a vague notion of taking a leisurely stroll back to the dorm, perhaps stopping at Kirsche's for tea. To his mild surprise, most of the rest of the class had the same idea, save for Gaius, Fie, and (to his mild disappointment) Laura, all of whom seemed to have other matters to attend to.

“Now that exams are over, I feel free as a bird!” Elliot said, hands behind his head. “And I'll keep soaring, at least until the results come back.”

Machias chuckled. “Don't get me wrong, I do sympathize, but personally I have a good feeling about it. What about you, Emma?”

The class president offered a vague shrug. “I don't think I did too badly, all things considered.”

Translation: She aced every test.

“Please, stop before you embarrass yourself,” Jusis said, rolling his eyes.

“We'll just have to see what the results look like,” Alisa said. “Right now, I'm more interested in what Instructor Sara's up too. Any ideas?”

Rean lifted an eyebrow. “You mean that bit about going out of town? Hmm, won't be back until tomorrow. . . . It's almost as if. . . .”

There was an audible gulp. “She's going to meet a s-s-secret lover?” Emma stammered.

Jusis snorted. “Impossible. The Empire hasn't yet turned out a man desperate enough to woo that alcoholic typhoon.”

“You have a point,” Machias said, ungrudgingly for a change. “She has the looks to snare a man, but that personality and lifestyle. . . .” He shuddered.

Rean laughed, shaking his head. “You guys are terrible. Totally agree, though.”

Elliot winced theatrically. “No surprise coming from you, the way she dumps work on you.”

A habit which was showing no sign of letting up. To be sure, Rean didn't mind helping the Student Council, not the way Towa was run ragged, but Instructor Sara occasionally came across as a slave driver. Not helped, to put it mildly, by her low and evil sense of humor.

“I'm guessing you'll be helping Student Council tomorrow,” Alisa said.

“That's the plan,” Rean confirmed. He twitched his shoulders in a vain attempt to work out a muscle kink. “After all that studying, I'm almost looking forward to playing errand boy.”

At least it meant he'd get to move around some. Rean had for the moment had more than his fill of sitting at a desk. If he could carry it or swing his sword at it, he was more than game. In all likelihood, he would be doing both on the morrow.

“Oh, please let us know if you plan to explore the old schoolhouse,” Emma said, seeming to read his mind.

“Count me in as well,” Machias put in.

And that, Rean thought, was probably the best part of Class VII. They had their issues, but they had finally settled into a proper team dynamic. Mostly. “Be careful, I just might take you up on that.”

They strolled on in silence for a while after that. Rean let his eyes wander, taking in the sight of Trista at the end of spring. The lino flowers had long since faded, leaving lush greenery behind. It was getting warm enough that they were probably going to be switching to summer uniform within a couple of weeks.

Near the dorm, Elliot spoke up. “Say, anyone know where Gaius disappeared to? He said something about the principal wanting a word with him; you think he went there?”

“Good question,” Rean said, frowning slightly. “I was wondering what was up with that.”

Machias adjusted his glasses. “I hope he hasn't gotten into trouble. Not that I think he would; this is Gaius we're talking about.”

Alisa shrugged. “Got me. Fie and Laura left early, too. Kinda disappointing; I was hoping we could all walk back together for once.” She looked at Rean. “Have you gotten anything out of Laura, Rean?”

He shook his head. “Haven't had the chance. Speaking of Laura, though. . . .” He folded his arms. “I might be imagining things, but do those two seem awkward to anyone else?”

“So I'm not the only one,” Alisa said, eyes dark with puzzlement. “There's definitely something strange.”

Emma was checking her student notebook. “It started around the beginning of the month,” she said, tucking it away. “I wonder if something happened then; they seem to have been avoiding each other since.”

That was what it looked like, all right. Which was very strange; as far as Rean knew, there wasn't any real conflict the way there had been with Jusis and Machias. For that matter, it was hard to tell if anything had happened between them at all, especially given Fie's general lack of interest in socializing.

“Neither has ever struck me as the type to dwell on petty issues or misunderstandings,” Jusis said. “Particularly Laura; grudges simply aren't in her nature as near as I can tell.”

Emma nodded agreement. “We've been trying to find out what's wrong, but so far no luck.”

Which, of course, was why they'd asked Rean to talk to her. In retrospect, it was a little too obvious; they'd been spending a lot more time together than was normal. Not, of course, that it really meant anything out of the ordinary, whatever their classmates thought.

Machias, meanwhile, was looking thoughtful. “I wonder if it's about that,” he said, half to himself.

Rean tilted his head slightly. “Did you see something, Machias?”

“Possibly, yes,” the other acknowledged. “Do you remember when we gave our reports on last month's field study? We gave a complete account, including the part where Fie used an explosive to blast open the door to my cell.”

“You mean how we found out Fie used to be in a jaeger corps,” Elliot said, nodding. “Kinda threw me for a loop, but I don't see what it has to do with Laura.”

Machias grimaced. “Well, when it came up, I couldn't help but notice Laura had a rather . . . unpleasant expression, for lack of a better word. It was there and gone in an instant, so I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it.”

“Interesting,” Rean murmured. If true, it certainly explained Laura's general awkwardness.

“Even if it's true, though,” Emma said, “I don't see why Laura would have reason to be upset.”

Machias shook his head, shrugging helplessly. “I can't even hazard a guess.”

Neither could Rean. Laura was always so accepting of everyone, be they noble or commoner, that such a reaction was almost unfathomable. She even accepted me despite my lying by omission about my social class.

“We all have certain things we want to keep to ourselves,” Jusis said, an odd look in his eyes. “In particular, a certain classmate who remains very tight-lipped about her own family.”

Rean took a cautious step back, knowing the response that was likely to provoke. “D-Do you have to drag me into this!?” Alisa demanded.

“My apologies, I meant no offense,” Jusis said, half-raising a placating hand. “I do have my suspicions about your lineage, however.”

Stay out of it, Rean.

“Now, now,” Emma said. “Getting angry won't solve anything.”

Suddenly, staying out of it wasn't an option. “Don't worry, we're not going to twist your arm into telling us,” Rean said, as soothingly as he could manage. “When you're ready to talk, we'll listen.”

For some reason, Alisa seemed more embarrassed than anything else. “I-It's not like I'm trying to make a big deal out of it,” she said. “It's just that it would be awkward if everyone knew, and I don't want that.”

Which raised more questions than it answered. Rean's own dissembling about his family background had made things awkward, but only for a couple of weeks. He didn't see how Alisa coming clean about her family could be any worse. Unless she was somehow tied to the Noble Faction, which was really unlikely.

“Welcome back, my lady,” a smooth female voice interjected.

Rean jumped. It was, to his immense surprise, the maid he'd met at the Thors gate just a few days before. He'd certainly suspected she was a new hire, but for the upper-class dorm. It had never even occurred to him that it would have anything to do with Class VII.

Would explain how she knew my name, though.

Astonished though he was, it was nothing compared to Alisa. “Sh-Sharon!?” she said in clear shock. “What are you doing here!? She . . . mother didn't. . . .”

Sharon giggled. “But of course. I was sent by the chairman herself. Starting today, I will be assuming the position of caretaker for Class VII's dormitory.” Ignoring Alisa's mixture of resignation and disbelief, she offered a bow to the rest of the class. “It is a great pleasure to meet all of you. My name is Sharon Kreuger. I am a servant in the employ of the Reinford household, Lady Alisa's family.”

Reinford!? Jusis, Rean noted distantly, simply nodded; apparently that was exactly what he had expected. Elliot, Machias, and Emma, by contrast, all appeared as shocked as Rean felt. The Reinford family wasn't nobility, but they were rich enough to be. House Schwarzer wasn't exactly impoverished, but they were nothing compared to the Reinfords, who controlled the Empire's largest industrial conglomerate.

This could be interesting in so many ways.

Alisa Reinford hadn't been so frustrated since her grandfather had left. No, “frustrated” didn't cover it. She was infuriated, outraged, and other words to that effect. Just when she thought she'd finally escaped her mother's grasp, this had to happen.

“I assure you, the chairman is doing this out of concern for your well-being,” Sharon said.

The crazy thing was, on one level Alisa was genuinely happy to see the maid. Sharon Kreuger was like a big sister to her, despite so often siding with her mother. Even in the darkest moments, Alisa had always known that Sharon cared. Which, unfortunately, did nothing to mitigate the current situation.

“I'll just bet she is,” she said darkly. “This is ridiculous; I'll just have to talk to her myself. She is at headquarters right now?”

Sharon lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I believe she's dining with the head of the Ministry of Railways, and won't be back until this evening.”

Even more aggravating, but not even slightly surprising. “I swear, she must have a built-in orbal generator or something,” Alisa muttered. “It's a wonder she doesn't burn through a pair of shoes every week.” She shook her head angrily. “But that's not the issue right now. I came here to finally stand on my own, and she sends you!?” She hissed through clenched teeth. “Rean said he met a maid in her twenties the day before midterms started. That was you, wasn't it?”

Smiling, Sharon inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Indeed it was. And I assure you, Lord Rean was a perfect gentleman the entire time.”

That much Alisa believed. For all that she gave him a hard time on the subject, she knew perfectly well that Rean Schwarzer would never dream of overstepping his bounds on such matters. Not to mention she rather doubted Sharon was his type; the maid was too much of a troll.

“Don't let him hear you say 'Lord Rean,' though,” she said. “Drives him nuts.” An instant later Alisa realized she had made a serious mistake. The smile on Sharon's face said it all.

“I'll be sure to remember that,” she said. “He must mean a great deal to you.”

Alisa felt her face turn bright red. “It's not like that!” she snapped. “I haven't even known him that long, for crying out loud!” And if you'd seen that match after our last field study, you wouldn't even be suggesting it. I'll never understand how trying to slice each other to pieces can be so much fun.

“As you say, my lady,” Sharon replied, her face giving nothing away. “In the meantime, I'll make sure to have a sumptuous meal prepared. You must all be exhausted after such rigorous exams.”

She was right, of course. Damn it. “I'll be looking forward to it,” Alisa said grumpily. “But don't you dare think this is over. I will be talking to Mother about this!” Not, unfortunately, that it was likely to do any good.

Thoroughly aggravated, she turned away and began to pace, thinking hard. Much as she hated to admit it, having Sharon around would probably make things a lot easier. Between combat practice (the practicals were insane enough that she made a point of spending an hour a day on the archery range) and lacrosse, among other things, Alisa barely had time to eat some days.

Which didn't change the fact that it was Irina Reinford who had arranged for Sharon's presence, doubtless to further interfere in Alisa's life. “Fine,” she grumbled. “Just so you know, Rean and Gaius are both early risers; Gaius in particular is usually gone by the time I get up.”

“You needn't worry, my lady,” Sharon said. “I did extensive research on everyone in this dormitory in preparation for my new posting.”

“Of course you did,” Alisa muttered. This is going to be a long year.

Growing up in Ymir, Rean hadn't had much contact with the kind of lifestyle even nobles of his own rank generally had. His mother had cooked most of the family's meals, which given the area had consisted largely of wild game. Not what one would call high-class, but definitely tasty.

As such, an “Imperial breakfast” was an entirely new experience. Bacon, toast, pancakes, sausage, and other things he couldn't identify at first glance. Each place setting had a cup, and Sharon had somehow divined what each member preferred. Machias and Elliot, for example, both had coffee (high-quality blends, judging by the smell), while Emma and the class's aristocrats had tea.

Green tea in Rean's case, which had him seriously wondering how their new caretaker had learned such details, as it wasn't all that common in the Empire. Not that it mattered just then, granted.

“This looks . . . more than edible,” Fie commented.

Emma sipped her tea. “I believe this is what they call an Imperial breakfast.”

“That's right, Emma,” Sharon said approvingly. “It's a traditional Erebonian style of breakfast.” She set a teakettle near the center of the table, with a pot of coffee beside it. “I must apologize, however. It's taken me some time to familiarize myself with this kitchen, so I'm afraid my cooking is a bit lackluster.”

She calls this lackluster!? Rean thought incredulously.

“Come now, Sharon,” Laura said, “your skill is something to be praised.” She took a bite of sausage. “This is far more colorful and varied than the breakfast served at my own home.”

Jusis nodded. “I would compare this spread favorably to the food served in the duke's household.” High praise indeed, considering the unabashed luxury of the Albarea estate.

Giggling a little, Sharon offered a slight bow. “I'm glad you think so. As you can see, I also brewed both tea and coffee.”

“Yeah, about that.” Rean gestured with his cup. “How did you know I prefer green tea?”

His question elicited more giggling. “Oh, I assure you, Lord Rean, I make sure to learn everyone's preferences, the better to serve you all.”

Alisa, who hadn't said a word since they all sat down, managed to look even more irritated. Which, admittedly, was probably a given; she hadn't even attempted to keep her voice down while grilling Sharon the day before, which meant Rean and the others had caught every word.

I think in some ways she's even angrier than on our first day.

Elliot shook his head. “I can't believe the 'R' in Alisa's name stood for Reinford,” he said, softly enough that only Rean could hear. “And her mother's the company chairman.”

“I'm still digesting that myself,” Rean admitted. He paused long enough to pop a slice of bacon in his mouth. “In charge of the largest industrial corporation on the continent. Her family's wealthy enough to put a lot of nobles to shame.” He grimaced slightly. “With all the nobles here, I can't blame her for wanting to keep her family ties secret.”

A sniff drew his attention back to Alisa. “Anyway, I object to everything about this,” she said tartly. “Considering how busy Mother is, I'm sure she needs your services far more than I do.”

The maid laughed softly. “I knew it. You're really concerned about her, aren't you? The way you too care for each other deep down is one of the reasons I'm proud to serve you.”

“That's preposterous!” Alisa snapped, still not looking at Sharon.

If Sharon was bothered by this, she showed no sign. “Oh, I almost forgot, I made plenty of your favorite apricot jam. Would you like me to spread some on your toast?”

Rean found it very difficult not to laugh at Alisa's reaction. “R-Really!?” she said, spinning around. Then, as if suddenly remembering she was supposed to be angry, she folded her arms. “I-I mean, stop treating me like a child! But yes, I would like some jam.”

Part of him wondering just how Alisa was going to avoid bursting a blood vessel, Rean focused on his meal. If it was anything like the last couple of months, there would be plenty to do, so he needed as much fuel as he could get. Running errands here there and everywhere, dealing with general weirdness, and of course the old schoolhouse.

He was almost used to it.

It had been a long time since Jusis had had such a sumptuous breakfast. Or rather, since he had enjoyed it. It was difficult, to say the least, to enjoy a meal in the Albarea family mansion when his lord father displayed all the warmth of the marble floors.

That, however, was in the back of his mind. “Laura, could I have a word with you?”

She lifted her eyebrows in evident surprise. Understandable enough; while Class VII had finally calmed down for the most part, Jusis and Laura weren't exactly close friends. “Is something the matter?”

This was going to be delicate. “Yes and no,” Jusis said. “It isn't about your . . . issues with Fie, if that's what you're worried about. No, I wish to discuss Rean.”

“Oh?” Laura paused at her mailbox. “Are you concerned about his sword training?”

Jusis barely restrained his initial reaction. Of course she would think that. “I saw his hesitation during that exhibition match, but that is neither here nor there.” He shook his head. “Have you ever noticed anything strange about his behavior? Beyond the confusion before he revealed his background, that is.”

Laura frowned slightly. “Strange in what way?”

Coming up with the right words was harder than expected. “Rean seems to lack concern for his own safety,” Jusis said. “Or perhaps it would be better to say he isn't as focused on it as he should be. He isn't normally one to take excessive risks, but when he sees someone else in danger, any thought of himself vanishes.”

A slow, thoughtful nod. “I do recall something along those lines, yes. As early as our first day here.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “Precisely. And you have no doubt heard how he shielded Regnitz and myself when we lost our heads in Bareahard.” The admission was painful, but to gloss over it would be a disgrace. “He's fortunate to have survived.”

“I see your point,” Laura acknowledged. “However, I fail to understand why you would come to me about it.”

And here was the more treacherous ground. Jusis personally thought Laura and Rean's mutual attraction obvious to all but the willfully blind, but broaching the subject would be unwise in the extreme. “Because you have a level of influence over him greater than any of us,” he said carefully. “Perhaps it's due to your shared passion for the sword; regardless, you would likely have a greater chance of restraining him.”

“I'm not sure it's possible to 'restrain' Rean Schwarzer without knocking him unconscious,” Laura said wryly. “Still, I'll see what I can do. I trust you plan to accompany us into the schoolhouse today?”

Jusis smiled faintly. “I could hardly call myself a noble of Erebonia if I shirked such duty,” he said. “For now, however, I have business in the Thors stables. The way Student Council has him running about, I highly doubt Rean will be ready until mid afternoon at the earliest.”

“Agreed,” Laura said with a smile. “I will see you then.”

Another beautiful morning in sleepy Trista. It was actually cool, though Rean really doubted it was going to last. In some ways it made him just a bit nervous; growing up in Ymir, hot days weren't exactly common even in the summer. Even training with Master Ka-fai had been mostly in the Eisengard mountains.

Don't be silly, he told himself, wandering into the park. If you survived even a month of his training regimen, you can handle summer in Trista.

A smile crossed his face when he saw a familiar black cat sitting on one of the benches. She looked at him for a moment, then sniffed and turned away. Typical cat, really, aloof, with a superiority complex that would be the envy of any noble in Erebonia.

Such thoughts came to a screeching halt, however, when he reached Kirsche's cafe. A student in commoner green was sitting at one of the tables, glowering at a textbook. Ordinarily a perfectly normal sight, not worthy of any particular note. However, the student was none other than Crow Armbrust, who as far as Rean knew couldn't study to save his life.

Crow must have felt Rean's gaze, because he looked up. “Mornin', Lord Rean,” he said sourly. “You're out playing errand boy, I take it?”

“You say that like it's somehow a bad thing.” Rean sat across from the second year and ordered a cup of tea. “And since when do you study? Rumor has it you sleep through class half the time.”

Annoyance flashed across the older student's face. “Yeah, well, my grades have been slipping a little, so Towa started nagging me about studying. Said I'd be held back a year if I didn't shape up.”

That sounded like Towa, all right. Overworked though she was, she still found time to look out for her friends. “She's right,” Rean said. “Do you really want to be in school forever?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Crow rolled his eyes. “You're really a workaholic, you know that?”

Rean snorted. “Can't afford not to be in Class VII.” He glanced at the textbook Crow was reading. “Brushing up on history?”

Crow sighed. “Yeah. I know I've got a lot of weak spots, but history's probably the weakest. Always bored me to tears.”

“Really? It's just about my favorite subject, even though Instructor Thomas is certifiably nuts.” They shared a laugh at that. “Honestly, though, I'd hate to see you held back.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Crow said, then offered a tired grin. “Eh, don't worry about it. I'll pull through.”

The conversation was clearly over. With a courteous nod, Rean stood and, prompted by an obscure impulse, made his way to the general store. If asked, he'd have said he wanted to stock up on supplies for their next old schoolhouse expedition, but any thought of preparation soon vanished.

Laura S. Arseid was examining one of the shelves, clearly lost in thought. For a moment Rean just watched her, wondering why the heck she'd be in a place like that. As far as he knew, the store didn't stock anything likely to suit what he'd seen of her tastes.

She must have sensed him, because her head turned just enough to bring him into view. “Hello, Rean,” she said with a smile.

“Laura,” he greeted. “What brings you here?”

A half-shrug. “Since enrolling here, I have found that my tastes differ rather more from most girls than I had realized. Thus, I'm looking for something that 'normal' girls would find of interest.” She grimaced faintly. “Unfortunately, I have met with little success.”

Well. That came out of nowhere. “Maybe I can help,” Rean said. “Obviously I'm not a girl, but I've spent enough time with my sister to have a general idea.”

Laura nodded slowly. “That would be appreciated, thank you.”

It took around ten minutes of perusing the store's wares before Rean found the perfect item. A Mishy plushy caught his eye, similar to one he recalled seeing in Celdic's Grand Market. He picked it up and held it out for Laura's inspection.

“Hmm,” she said, eying it curiously. “This does have a certain charm to it.”

“Mishy's the mascot for an amusement park in Crossbell,” Rean explained. “Pretty popular, especially with girls.”

Laura nodded. “I see. This will do nicely. Thank you for your help.”

Rean smiled. “Anytime.”

The various and sundry tasks Instructor Sara had saddled him with by way of the student council kept Rean busy until mid afternoon. Granted some of it had been genuinely fun, notably a chance to try out Angelica Rogner's orbal bike. Still, it was something of a relief to get to the most important part of the day.

He was mildly surprised to find that all of his classmates had cleared their schedules for that very purpose. Then again, though, maybe it wasn't so surprising. Exploring the old schoolhouse was good both for training and the sense of doing something important for the school.

There was, however, a complication, one he should have expected. Laura and Fie were looking away from each other, not making a big deal about it as far as Rean could tell, but definitely uncomfortable. Putting them together, he thought, would be a bad idea.

“Okay,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready and able,” Alisa said for all of them.

Rean nodded, one hand on his sword. “Good. After what happened last time, there's no telling what we're in for, so keep your wits about you.”

He realized abruptly that they were all looking at him, as though waiting for instructions. Wondering just how the heck he'd wound up with such a role, Rean went over their formation in his head. He knew all their fighting styles by now, so it was simply a question of which link combinations would work best.

“Okay, here's how we'll go about this,” he said at last. “Since we have the highest compatibility rating and we don't know what the heck we're going to run into, Laura and I will link.” General head-nodding, though he didn't like the looks Alisa and Machias were sending his way. “The rest of you, let's try Jusis and Emma, Elliot and Fie, and Machias and Alisa. You okay going solo, Gaius?”

The exchange student smiled. “No problem at all,” he said. “I did plenty of scouting back home, so I can handle myself.”

Well, that was one load off. “All right,” Rean said. “Let's get moving.”

It was, unfortunately, not so simple. Having Laura and Fie in separate units, so to speak, did help to a degree, but it unfortunately wasn't enough. The awkwardness between them was just enough to throw off the team's rhythm. Nothing catastrophic, but it made combat more difficult than it should have been.

On the flip side, from what Rean could see Elliot and Fie made an excellent link pair. His support abilities augmented her already blinding speed and agility, and when Fie did take a hit, Elliot was right there to fix her up. Their level of coordination was close to Rean and Laura's.

Jusis and Emma worked surprisingly well. Or perhaps not so surprisingly, given that Jusis had been making more of an effort at class spirit since their return from Bareahard. It was still a very strange sight; at least Machias and Alisa being a good team made a certain degree of sense.

Think about that later, he told himself, and brought his tachi up in a diagonal slash just in time to bisect a giant bug. Damn, but he was sick of fighting giant bugs. Always getting in his face, getting between him and where he wanted to be.

Laura, naturally, was having the time of her life despite her issues with Fie. With a wordless cry, she brought her gigantic sword down on another of the insects, crushing the carapace as much as cutting through it. Sheer weight was more than enough to bring it down.

Spying a T-junction up ahead, Rean called a temporary halt. Emma and Elliot were both visibly breathing hard, not unexpected inasmuch as they were the least physically active of the class. If they found what Rean suspected they were going to find based on previous excursions, he wanted them all rested and ready.

Which soon proved a wise precaution indeed. After passing through an all too familiar door, they were attacked by a trio of gargoyle-like creatures, albeit not as thickset as the one they'd fought on their first day. Rean's perceptions were all but overwhelmed by the whirl of combat, gunshots, arts of various kinds, the heavy clang of Laura's sword mixed with the lighter sounds of his and Jusis's blades.

Though more intense than previous such encounters, it was still over within a few minutes. Rean wiped sweat from his forehead, glad he'd had the foresight to bring a water bottle for a change. His classmates, with the notable exception of Laura, looked practically dead on their feet.

“So that was this floor's guardian,” Fie said, neither face nor tone giving any hint what she was thinking. “You've fought things like that before?”

“Correct,” Laura said, her expression carefully neutral. “Though under other circumstances we would have dealt with it more effectively.”

This is getting nowhere. Guess they'll just have to work it out themselves. Rean frowned, another thought striking him. There's a definite pattern here.

“Something on your mind, Rean?” Emma asked.

He shook himself. “I just think I've figured out something about this place is all. Anyway, we've explored as much as we can. Let's head back.”

For some reason, Rean's time sense never seemed to work quite right in the old schoolhouse. It always took longer than expected, with the result being they invariably wrapped up near sunset. A good day's work, if Rean did say so himself.

“So, Rean,” Laura said, “just what was that 'a-ha' moment you had earlier?”

He shrugged. “That? I just think the old schoolhouse follows certain 'rules.' First, there's always a door at the start of every floor. Second is there's always a really tough monster—or monsters—waiting at the end. The third is a new floor opens up for us to explore each month.”

Gaius nodded slowly. “That does fit with what we've seen so far. It's like someone or something is testing us.”

That does make sense. But who, and why?

“Just have to keep poking around if we want answers,” Fie said, practical as always.

“Can't argue with that,” Rean agreed. “Still, we've done all we can today. See you guys later.”

The afternoon was warm enough that he was soon thinking longingly of summer uniform. A quick shower before dinner, he thought, was just what he needed. Then probably some studying, though with midterms behind them he planned to keep it light. He and his classmates had more than earned a rest.

Rather than go straight to the dorm, Rean stopped at Kirsche's for a cup of tea. As usual, he wasn't the only Thors student there; he recognized a commoner by the name of Hugo, already considered a rising star at Kleist and Co., a major trading company. Alisa was sitting at a nearby table opposite Angelica Rogner; Rean nodded a greeting, but kept his distance. He didn't know how those two knew each other, and wasn't sure he wanted to.

Regardless, he had to get moving if he wanted to get back before curfew. Dropping a few coins on the counter, he took his leave, almost colliding with another first year in the process. She looked vaguely familiar, from the Swimming Club if he recalled correctly.

Maybe ask Laura about it. Dismissing it with a shrug, Rean stepped up to the door, already looking forward to his soft bed.

“Oh, Rean, you just get back, too?”<

He paused in mid motion. “Evening, Instructor,” he said with a smile. “Welcome back.”

Sara grinned. “Well, the building's still standing, so at least you all behaved yourselves. I heard you've been really buckling down helping the Student Council. Noble thing to do and all that, but if you spend all your time working, life will just pass you by.”

Rean rolled his eyes. “Alas, if only my evil step-teacher would stop dropping work on me and allow me to go to the ball.” Seeing how worn his homeroom teacher looked, he let the matter drop. “. . .Did something happen? You look dead on your feet.”

Sara waved a hand. “Nah, just really busy the last couple of days.” She muttered something else that Rean didn't quite catch.

“I guess your hot date didn't turn out so well, eh?”

He had to suppress a laugh at Sara's blank look. “Oh, of course it did! As if a night with me could be anything less than unforgettable!”

You're right about that, but not the way you think you are.

“He was such a gentleman! So strong, so passionate. . . .” The instructor sighed theatrically. “But I'm afraid the details would be too much for you. It's too early to be corrupting your pure, innocent heart.”

Instructor, I'm at an academy learning to kill people. I somehow doubt keeping a “pure, innocent heart” is the main goal here. And I don't for an instant believe you really had a hot date.

“Anyway, everything okay last night? Nothing major happen while I was away?”

Rean rubbed his chin. “There was one thing. A woman showed up claiming to be the dorm's new caretaker. Did you know about it?”

The look on Sara's face was answer enough. “She's here already? I'd heard the Reinford family was sending a maid, but I wasn't sure when she'd arrive.” She sniffed the air. “Something sure smells good.”

“Probably Sharon fixing dinner,” Rean said, his mouth watering already. “She's easily the best cook I've ever met.”

“That so?” Sara's eyes lit up. “This Class VII gig sure has its perks. I'll have to get her to fix some snacks with my beer later.”

Guess she knew about Alisa's family after all. Makes sense.

They stepped inside, and were immediately greeted by an already-familiar voice. “Welcome back, Lord Rean, Lady Sara.”

Rean started to tell her not to call him that, but something in the air stilled his voice. Sara was looking at the maid with deep suspicion, bordering on outright hostility. She looked almost like she was ready to draw her sword and pistol; having been on the receiving end of that combination, Rean took a careful step to one side.

If she noted, Sharon gave no sign. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Sara. My name is Sharon. I was sent here to serve you courtesy of the Reinford family.” She smiled. “I will do my utmost to cater to your every need. I hope I can be of service.”

“Oh, the pleasure's all mine.” From her expression and tone, almost certainly a lie. “Though if you don't mind my saying, you look a little familiar. Are you sure we haven't met somewhere before?”

Sharon shook her head. “Not that I can recall, and you don't seem to be the kind of person one easily forgets. I look forward to serving you, Lady Sara Valestein.”

Sara's answering smile was thin and sharp enough to shave with. “Thank you, Sharon Kreuger.”

I don't know what's going on, and I'm not sure I want to. Time to make my exit. He stopped at his mailbox, and felt his eyebrows lift at the content. A simple white envelop, with the name “Elise Schwarzer” neatly inscribed on the front. A letter from Elise. Good way to end the day.

“Please, don't worry about me. While I still have much to learn before I feel like I deserve my status among the nobility, I've been blessed with wonderful friends, and I'm enjoying life here at the academy. I often feel more concerned for how you're faring in your own studies. Thors Military Academy is well known for its connection to Emperor Dreichels and its strenuous curriculum, and I worry that the dangers you face in your training could catch even you by surprise someday.

I pray you don't neglect your own well-being. This world has many soldiers, but you're my only brother.

Elise Schwarzer.”

Rean smiled wistfully. “You never change, Elise. Or maybe that's me.” He stared at the family photo, taken mere days before he departed for Thors. Memories chased each other through his mind, some good, some bad. At length he shook his head, irritated with himself. “I really should write back to her, and Mom and Dad, too.” For now, however, it was time for studying, with Misty's cheerful voice in the background.

“Misty here, filling your speakers with charm and wit once again. I'm coming to you live from Radio Trista, and it's 9:00 PM on this calm June 20th evening. Let's kick off this week's Abend Time.” She hummed for a moment. “The weather around the capital has been wet lately, but not very wild. I thought the rain would never let up. Thanks to that, I ended up holed up in my room even on my precious days off.”

Rean was starting to forget what a day off was like. Too many demands on his time even on their monthly free days. Not, to be sure, that he was complaining too much. The rewards were more than worth the effort.

“Still, the end of June's just around the corner, which means Summer Festivals are in full swing across Erebonia. The festival out in the port city of Ordis is known for the breathtaking sight of hundreds of bonfires across the bay. In the old capital of Saint-Arkh, they know how to party hard, with a festival that keeps going for five nights straight!” She sighed. “Unfortunately, I've never been able to get out to either of them. I'm hoping to make it up to myself by taking the train to some far-off destination on my next vacation.”

Heh, if only I had the time.

“Now, where would be the perfect place for this wayward traveler to visit? I'd love to visit Crossbell. Exploring its theme park and seeing one of Arc en Ciel's theatrical performances would be great! But the thought of just riding to the end of the line and taking in the rustic beauty of the Nord Highlands is just so tempting!” A pause. “I know, Director, I know. Can't a girl dream?”

Nord, huh? Gaius's homeland? I'd love to see it myself.

In some ways, the simple act of checking exam results was more nerve-wracking than fighting giant monsters in the old schoolhouse. Maybe it was because his future was on the line, maybe it was simply his reputation at school. Either way, he was fighting a cold sweat.

Rex from Class V was dead last; no surprise, given what Rean had heard of his habits. Class IV's Vivi not much higher, also unsurprising inasmuch as she preferred pulling pranks to studying. Celdic native Becky at 85, maybe she focused too much on economics and let her overall grades slip. Mint from Class III was also fairly low, likely because she was such a klutz.

And there was Class VII's own Fie Claussell at 72. Given her jaeger past, it wasn't all that surprising that she ranked so low. If anything it was impressive she was so high up; apparently Emma's tutoring had paid off. Or maybe Fie just wasn't napping quite as much.

Elliot was a respectable number 36. From the look on his face, he was relieved to have placed so high. Gaius was at 20, impressive for an exchange student. Laura had reached seventeenth place; Rean was honestly surprised she wasn't higher. Emma and Machias were tied for first, no surprise, with Jusis in third. Alisa was a solid eighth.

With a surge of pride, Rean saw he had scored seventh place. Seventh, out of almost a hundred first years in an elite school. All that studying he'd forced himself through, all the headaches and excessive coffee consumption had been worth it after all.

“Placed higher than I thought I would,” Elliot said, wiping his brow. “Can't believe Emma and Machias tied for the top score!”

Gaius laughed. “Congrats, Machias. You always put up some impressive numbers.”

“Made good on your word after all,” Rean agreed, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

The class vice president scratched the back of his head. “I suppose,” he conceded. “Emma's the real natural, though.”

“Oh, no,” Emma said, shaking her head and laughing. “We both just really hit the books this time.”

Alisa clapped her hands, a huge grin on her face. “I'm just glad everyone scored so well! A real team effort, guys!”

“I agree,” Laura said. “I scored higher than I did on the entrance exam, too.”

A very strange thought. Maybe it was because of how much emphasis she put on sword training; that kind of thing was the main reason Rean himself was lousy with arts. And firearms, for that matter.

“I'll just have to settle for third place this time.” Jusis sounded more amused than anything else.

Elliot chuckled. “You make it look easy, Jusis. Now Rean, you must've really buckled down in your studies to make the top ten.”

“Well, you all helped me out,” Rean said with a shrug. “You know what they say, a rising tide lifts all boats.”

Fie sighed, looking almost forlornly at her own score. “I feel kinda left out.”

“Don't. You did really well, Fie,” Emma assured her. “Thors is an elite school, remember; you must've had the basics down to get even that high.”

“Emma's right,” Alisa said. “Build on that, and you'll score even higher.”

The onetime jaeger shrugged. “If I feel like it. Look over there.”

“Over there” was the average score for each class. Class VII, with 878 points, had landed the top spot, eclipsing Class I by a good thirty-five points. Jusis had been somewhat derisive about class bragging rights, but there was no denying the satisfaction of beating out those pompous twits.

“Wow!” Elliot gasped.

Laura smiled with quiet pride. “Our class had the highest average score.”

“I figured that would be the case, since we have the academy's top three scorers,” Alisa agreed.

Jusis sniffed, though for once there was no haughtiness in the gesture. “As if a class I'm part of could fail to come out on top.”

Rean felt someone's gaze, and not a friendly one. Turning his head very slightly, he saw several members of Class I, including the ever-annoying Patrick T. Hyarms, glaring at them. More at Rean specifically, though he wasn't the only target; Ferris Florald was staring daggers at Alisa. This, he thought, was going to be a problem.

The afternoon was very pleasant, bright sunlight and a gentle wind. Perfect, in Gaius's opinion, for a good workout. Standing at the edge of the academy's field, idly twirling his spear, he wondered just what Instructor Sara had in mind for them this month. Those combat shells were at least decently challenging.

“Well, aren't you a bunch of overachievers?” Sara said, clapping her hands. “Congrats on your amazing performance on the midterms!” She grinned with just a hint of malice. “I'll cherish that grumpy look on the vice principal's face forever. Teach him to poke his nose into my business.”

Rean allowed himself a long-suffering sigh. “We didn't do all that work just so you could stick it to him, you know.” Though if Gaius wasn't mistaken, the country noble wasn't exactly disagreeing with their instructor. Gaius could relate; even he found Vice Principal Heinrich difficult to deal with.

“Besides, you bring most of it on yourself,” Alisa added. Also true.

Sara ignored her, letting out a low growl. “Always tromping around like he owns the place with that smarmy mustache of his.” Her lip curled. “It's one thing to gripe about work, but who the hell does he think he is telling me what to wear and how to behave in a bar!? Now he's telling me I need to hurry up and get married! Yeah, I'll marry my foot to your face, pompous jackass.”

Privately, Gaius agreed with Jusis, that the Empire had not yet produced a man desperate enough to “woo that alcoholic typhoon.” She was . . . quite a handful.

“Aaaaanywaaaay,” Sara said with a cough, “is everyone ready to leap boldly into this month's practical exam?”

“Ready and able,” Emma said.

Jusis folded his arms, his stance casually confident. “I can take whatever task you throw at us.”

Elliot wasn't quite as sanguine. “It should be easier than midterms, at least.” Gaius had to smile at that.

Sara snapped a finger, and a familiar shape appeared out of thin air. As expected, the general configuration was the same, but with notably different details. For one thing, it was a dull purple, almost like it hadn't been used in quite some time. Something only an idiot would fall prey to.

“Here we go again,” Gaius said, hefting his spear.

Rean, he noted, had a very thoughtful look on his face. It was as if he'd seen something like it before, and not in their practical exams. An unusual opponent he'd faced in Celdic or Bareahard, perhaps?

“You noticed it, too, huh?” Fie said quietly.

Rean nodded. “Shape and color are different, but it's similar somehow.”

“It's the material,” the former jaeger said. “Makes me wonder. . . .”

Laura tilted her head slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“. . .No.”

And there they went again. Not to the point of violence the way Jusis and Machias had been, but still concerning, as they'd seen in their most recent trek through the old schoolhouse. Unfortunately, there also seemed to be no clear route to a solution.

Well. Leave it to the Goddess and the winds. And Rean, in all likelihood.

“Well, doesn't this look fun?”

The voice was a little too familiar, and it nearly always meant trouble. Silky smooth and painfully condescending, it was unmistakably Patrick T. Hyarms, resplendent in his white uniform. As per usual, he was accompanied by a trio of lackeys whose names Gaius had never quite caught. Ferris Florald and an unfamiliar upper-class first year were visible behind them.

“Class I?” Emma said, surprised.

Machias ground his teeth. “What are they doing here?”

The four nobles strode down the staircase as if they owned the place. It was times like this that Gaius understood Machias's attitude toward the nobility. The contrast between Laura's quiet dignity, Rean's selflessness, Jusis's noblesse oblige, and the sneering arrogance of Patrick and his ilk was like night and day. Gaius did his best to keep an open mind, but Patrick Hyarms seriously pushed the envelop sometimes.

“Good question, Machias,” Sara said. “To what do we owe this pleasure? Class I's combat training isn't until tomorrow.”

Patrick shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, Instructor Thomas's class was changed to a self-study period for today. So we thought it would be the perfect opportunity for a little . . . cross-class exchange, if you will.” In one smooth motion, he drew a rapier from his belt. “Class VII seems to be the talk of the school lately, and we'd love the chance to get a little better acquainted.”

Gaius tightened his grip on his spear. This was reminding him a little too much of the near-disaster in Parm. About the only saving grace was Sara's presence.

“Judging by that rapier, I'm guessing you're not here to exchange pleasantries over tea and cookies,” Rean said in a dust-dry tone. His hand, Gaius noted, was on the hilt of his sheathed tachi.

Patrick smiled thinly. “You really are a sharp one, Schwarzer,” he said sardonically. “Nothing gets past you. Why not try your skill against some human opponents instead of that contraption over there? We'd be more than happy to serve as representatives of Class I.” The smile thinned further. “Allow us to demonstrate the refined spirit and dignity of the Erebonian nobility.”

Is he insane? Gaius could tell at a glance that the Class I reps were highly skilled, Patrick especially, but Class VII was in a class, so to speak, all its own.

Machias very nearly went for his shotgun. “You little pieces of. . . .” He seemed to choke.

“They're just trying to goad us into a fight,” Alisa said, though she appeared no less angry.

Laura folded her arms. “I'd be interested to see this 'refined spirit and dignity' you profess.” Her voice was colder than Gaius could remember hearing.

“Well, looks like I've found today's entertainment.” Sara's smile was every bit as thin as Patrick's. She snapped her fingers, and the combat shell vanished. “Okay, change of plans. Today's practical exam will be a friendly training bout between Classes I and VII.”

Somehow, “friendly” didn't seem quite the right word, except insofar as there was no killing intent. Except perhaps from Machias, but that was business as usual.

“The fight will be four on four, with arts usage permitted,” Sara went on. “Rean, you'll be squad captain, so go ahead and choose your teammates.”

“R-Roger that,” Rean said, clearly startled. He gave the rest of the class a slow, measuring look, his eyes briefly meeting Laura's, then turning away at a minute shake of her head. “Gaius, Elliot, Machias. Let's do this.”

Nodding, Gaius took a position behind Rean and to his left, the better to exploit his reach advantage. Elliot hung back, with Machias just in front of him for cover.

It was plain what Rean was up to. Understandably irritated at Patrick's attitude, he wanted to show Class I that noble birth didn't make them inherently superior in combat. From the look on Sara's face, that was exactly what she was hoping for.

“Looks like you're all set,” the instructor said. “Both teams, take your positions, weapons at the ready.” They obeyed, Machias's knuckles white as he clutched his shotgun. “We'll now begin the training bout between our representatives from Classes I and VII.”

All of Class I's team, Gaius noted, bore rapiers. Unsurprising from what Rean and Jusis had said of the nobility, but a definite tactical error. Class VII's lineup was sufficiently varied to cover each others' weak spots, leaving fewer openings for their opponents to exploit. Class I had no such advantage.

“Begin!”

One of Patrick's lackeys aimed a thrust at Gaius. A fairly textbook maneuver according to Jusis, but executed flawlessly. It was not, however, enough to break through Gaius's defense; a twitch of his spear, and the noble's blade was turned to one side before he could get close.

Machias, unsurprisingly, was taking a certain vicious satisfaction at keeping not one but two of the Class I students at bay. They had evidently chosen to gang up on Elliot, presumably on the reasonable assumption that he was Class VII's weakest fighter. A tactic that clearly didn't take into account Machias's shotgun and Elliot's skill with arts.

Inevitably, Patrick himself had engaged Rean. The upper-class student was good, no doubt about it, but even while distracted with his own battle Gaius could tell Rean was better. So could Patrick, if his twisted face and unsteady breathing were any indication.

Gaius's opponent lunged again, but this time more cautiously. He was able to slip past Gaius's initial attempt at a parry, only to be tripped up when the exchange student spun in a tight circle, the haft of his spear catching the hapless nobleman by the right leg and nearly dropping him.

A wheezing cough proclaimed that one of Machias's targets was out of the fight. The noble had backed off and sunk to one knee, visibly winded. Machias, though starting to look weary himself, held the other one off, bolstered by Elliot's support abilities.

And then the second one was down, doubling over when Machias slammed the stock of his shotgun into the noble's midsection. Machias helped an exhausted Elliot remain standing, sharing with the musician a tired grin of triumph.

Patrick alone remained, engaged in a furious one-on-one with Rean. It had started out more or less even, but now Rean was pushing the pace, the unpredictable and lightning-quick slashes of his Eight Leaves style slowly but surely overwhelming Patrick's more conventional court fencing.

The end, when it came, was very abrupt. Patrick lunged just a bit too far, giving Rean an opening to knock his rapier out of his hand. While the upper-class student fell to one knee in defeat, Rean for a moment looked like he would soon follow, as if the wind had gone out of his sails.

“Enough!” Sara said crisply. “The winning team is . . . Class VII!”

Laura smiled in obvious pride. “The victory is ours,” she said, inclining her head toward Rean.

“We showed them, all right!” Alisa agreed with a smug grin.

“Not bad,” Fie conceded.

Jusis folded his arms. “A passable performance.” Though the words could have been construed as damning by faint praise, he was clearly delighted to see Class I humbled.

“How does it feel, choking on your own hubris?” Machias gasped.

Bit of a sore winner, though I suppose I can't blame him. Patrick was certainly pushing the envelop.

Rean, ever the image of gallantry and grace, extended a hand to Patrick. “That was a good fight,” he said, “You actually had us on the defensive once or twice. If we get another chance to—”

With a vicious snarl, Patrick slapped Rean's hand aside. “Get your filthy hands off me!” he all but screamed.

Even his own lackeys seemed taken aback by his vehemence. As for Class VII, Machias looked (for once justifiably) infuriated. Emma seemed more shocked than anything else, while Fie was apathetic as usual. Elliot was clutching his staff in white-knuckled hands next to an enraged Alisa. Jusis's poker face slipped just enough to let contempt show through, but most ominous was Laura's hand on the hilt of her greatsword.

For his part, Gaius was certainly unhappy, but resolved not to show it. Someone, he thought, needed to be a voice of calm and reason, not that he faulted his classmates.

“Don't you dare start acting like you're above me, Rean Schwarzer,” Patrick bit out. “Just because Ymir's lord took you in out of pity doesn't change the fact that you're a nobody without a drop of noble blood!”

Machias nearly went for his shotgun. “You son of a. . . .” he growled.

“The rest of you are no different!” Patrick continued. “Did you think scoring first on the exams would mask the fact that you crawled up from the dregs of society? What of you, Reinford? A family of upstart arms peddlers who think being flush with money is all the pedigree they need!? And what of the barbarian and your jaeger-tot!? I'm amazed they could even read the entrance forms!”

Okay, now he was starting to push it. Gaius kept his face still, but he gripped his spear a bit more tightly than necessary. He couldn't have cared less what the arrogant noble thought of him personally, but insulting his friends was a bridge too far.

“I can't deny how the Reinford Company made its millions,” Alisa conceded.

Fie simply looked confused. “. . .Am I the 'jaeger-tot'?”

It even seemed to be too much for Patrick's companions. “Um, Patrick, I think you might have gone a bit too far,” one ventured.

“SILENCE!” Patrick shouted. “You don't tell me what I can and can't say!”

Laura was no longer gripping her sword, but if anything her expression was even colder. “How utterly foul,” she said with a disgusted shake of the head.

Enough was enough. Planting his spear in the ground, Gaius took a step forward. “I'm not sure I understand,” he said, his voice even. “Maybe you can clear this up: What is it about nobles that makes them superior to those who aren't?” From the look on his face, Patrick had never even considered the question. “I won't deny I'm not from this country,” Gaius went on, “that's as plain as the nose on my face. Back in my homeland, we don't have anything like your class system, so the concept is pretty foreign to me.” He shrugged. “I mean no offense by asking, but I would really like to know just what it is that elevates nobles above everyone else.”

Patrick sucked in a steadying breath. “The superiority of nobles is self-evident! We come from families of distinguished lineage, built upon generations of tradition!” He shook his head angrily. “That gives us a dignity, refinement, and pride that those of common birth could never hope to possess!” His blue eyes were like ice crystals. “We represent the pinnacle of human achievement! That is what makes us nobles!”

Suppressing a sigh was difficult. “I've witnessed that dignity and refinement myself on a daily basis,” Gaius acknowledged. “I see it in how Laura and Jusis carry themselves.” He allowed his voice to cool, just a little. “Rean as well, adopted though he is. But that brings me to another question.” He looked Patrick in the eye. “I can understand the important of dignity, lineage, tradition, pride—I can see why those would matter.” His voice and expression hardened. “But where do you think they let you get off saying the kind of things you just did?”

He could feel both classes staring at him, but it didn't really matter. All he'd done was tell the truth, admittedly motivated in part by irritation at his friends being more or less slandered.

“Gaius raised an excellent question,” Sara said. “Anyway, this marks the end of our mock battle. Many thanks to Class I for their gracious cooperation.” Sarcasm so thick it could be cut with a knife. “Oh, and just for future reference, 'self-study' doesn't mean 'wander around doing whatever you want.' That goes for you two as well. Back to the classroom with you!”

Clearly frightened out of their wits, the girls scrambled to obey. “Y-Yes, Instructor!” Ferris stammered.

Dismissing them, Sara looked back at Patrick. “Anyway, I've decided that for your combat training tomorrow, I'll be pointing out everything you did wrong today.” She smiled thinly. “I'll give you the full, shameful play-by-play, of course, but I want you to really think about where you need to improve.”

Aside from Patrick himself, the retreating nobles looked very much like dogs scurrying away with their tails between their legs. They probably weren't going to forget this exam any time soon, though Gaius shuddered to think what someone like Patrick Hyarms might plan in retaliation.

“Now that was a close one,” Elliot said, wiping his forehead. “I thought it was going to get ugly for a moment there.”

“It was ugly enough,” Machias said. He shook his head. “This is why I can't stand nobles.”

Jusis grunted. “Please, don't place me in the same category as that imbecile.” From his tone, Gaius suspected there was some bad blood between Albarea and Hyarms. Probably best not to ask.

“Thanks, Gaius,” Rean said, inclining his head respectfully. “That . . . meant a lot to me.”

Gaius shrugged. “I just said what came naturally; if that helped, I'm glad.”

Sara clapped her hands, reclaiming their attention. “Anyway, that wraps up this month's practical exam. Next, I'll be giving you the locations for your next field study.”

It was very hard not to smile in anticipation. Gaius had spent nearly an hour discussing it with Principal Vandyck, and Instructor Sara had jumped at the idea with her usual enthusiasm. Watching the rest of the class react promised to be very interesting indeed.

Group A: Rean, Alisa, Emma, Jusis, Gaius (Study Location: Nord Highlands). Group B: Machias, Elliot, Laura, Fie (Study Location: Bryonia Island).

“Bryonia Island,” Machias said thoughtfully. “That's in the far west of the Empire, isn't it?”

Laura nodded. “It is indeed. An island off the coast of Lamare Province, known for its ruins. However. . . .” She glanced briefly at Fie, who didn't react.

“The Nord Highlands are beyond the Empire's northeastern borders, are they not?” Emma asked, looking at Gaius.

“Out past Roer, right across the border,” Alisa confirmed. “I've never been there myself, but I've heard the scenery is spectacular.”

Jusis had a look of keen interest in his eyes. Good. “Since times of antiquity, the highlands have been home to a tribe of nomads.”

Elliot's eyes widened a bit. “Now that you mention it. . . .”

“Didn't you say you're from Nord?” Rean asked.

Gaius smiled. “Sure did. We've actually made arrangements for Group A to stay at my home settlement. I hope you all enjoy yourselves.”

For probably the first time since enrollment, Jusis actually looked excited. For Jusis, anyway; he remained calm and dignified, but there was a light in his eyes that definitely hadn't been there before. Recalling the noble's interest in horseback riding, Gaius couldn't wait to see his reaction when they finally set out.

Chapter Text

For the first time, Rean found himself genuinely looking forward to a field study. He'd long been hoping for a chance to see Gaius's homeland, and here it practically dropped into his lap. Not to mention he needed the distraction; Patrick Hyarms' words still rankled.

He couldn't help worrying about Group B, though. Though not as bad as Jusis and Machias had once been, putting Laura and Fie in the same group seemed like playing with fire. Violence was unlikely, granted—neither was the type to go off like that—but there were still all sorts of ways such friction could drag the whole group down. Rean had gotten lucky on their first outing, making up with Alisa right before they left.

“Morning, Rean.” Gaius, naturally, was already up. “All set to go?”

Rean smiled. “Almost,” he said. “I think we should stock up a little before we leave; most of the shops in Trista open pretty early.” He looked past the exchange student. “That sound okay to you, Jusis?”

“Acceptable,” Jusis said. “It will be a much longer journey than our previous field studies; ensuring we're well-supplied is a sensible course.”

On the surface, typical Jusis. However, Rean heard just the faintest note of eagerness in the other noble's voice. “Why, Jusis,” he said, deadpan, “you sound almost excited.”

Jusis snorted. “Please, you're beginning to sound like Regnitz.” He allowed himself a faint smile. “Having said that, I am certainly looking forward to seeing the Highlands. Even leaving aside its historical ties to the Empire, Nord is famous for its natural beauty.”

“I don't think you'll be disappointed,” Gaius said. “I only wish Group B could come along as well.”

“I'm sure they'll have their chance,” Rean said, leading them downstairs. “Not like we'll be students forever.”

Alisa and Emma were waiting for them in the common room. Alisa's face was a study in mixed emotions, probably because their trip would take them through Roer. If the ranting Rean had overheard when Sharon showed herself was any indication, the Reinford family wasn't exactly the most peaceful.

By contrast, Emma looked like she was still at least half asleep. Her eyes seemed unfocused, though it was admittedly hard to tell with her glasses on, and she was constantly stifling yawns. Likely she simply wasn't a morning person, especially with her study habits. It seemed to be the hardest thing about Thors for her.

There was no sign of Group B at all. Rean wasn't really surprised they'd already left; Machias and Laura were major workaholics, and Fie at least was probably used to getting up early, what with her jaeger background. He couldn't help feeling sorry for Elliot, though.

“Good morning,” Alisa said with a smile.

“Morning, Alisa, Emma,” Rean said. He shook his head in wonder. “I couldn't believe it when I saw 'Nord Highlands' written next to our names. “I never expected our field studies to take us that far out.”

Emma nodded. “It does make sense, though, since it's an important place in the history of the academy's founder, Emperor Dreichels.”

“Quite,” Jusis said. “It was in the Highlands that began to solidify his military power in the War of the Lions.”

Alisa grimaced. “That's pretty much all I know about Nord,” she admitted.

“Don't worry about it,” Gaius said with a smile. “I'll give you a proper overview along the way. I hope you're ready for a long trip, though; over eight hours by train.”

Which, of course, was why Rean wanted to stock up before they left. He'd made sure to have at least a few snacks along when he'd come south from Ymir; the trip to Nord sounded like it would be around half again as long. And probably not all by rail; if he recalled correctly, the northernmost railway line ended at Zender Gate.

“That's almost a whole day's journey,” Emma said, her eyes widening.

“From the sound of things, the experience will be more than worth the trouble,” Jusis said. “We should count ourselves fortunate; few Erebonians have such an opportunity.”

Alisa nodded slowly. “Still, we might want to get some snacks before we leave. Dunno about you, but I'm not sure my stomach can take that long a wait.”

“Oh, that won't be necessary, Lady Alisa.”

Rean had to very firmly stifle a laugh at Alisa's expression. In the week since Sharon had taken up caretaking duties for Class VII, Alisa's mood had swung like a drunken pendulum. Sometimes she appeared almost happy at the maid's presence, others she had the air of an enraged cat. Rean had made a point of staying out of the way.

“Good morning, Sharon,” Emma greeted.

Sharon bowed. “I merely wanted to wish you all a safe journey, and give you this.” She pressed a large basket into Rean's hands.

Rean lifted his eyebrows. “What's this?”

“I took the liberty of preparing some sandwiches for you all, along with a pot of lemon tea for each group,” Sharon said with a smile. “I wasn't able to prepare a proper breakfast, so I hope you'll enjoy these on the train instead.”

And that makes my day right there.

“A thoughtful caretaker,” Jusis remarked, casting an amused glance at Alisa.

“Indeed, we'd be glad to accept them,” Gaius said.

Sharon shook her head. “Any maid would have done the same.”

It was hard to tell if Alisa was growling, or clearing her throat. Either way, she looked almost as annoyed as she'd been on their first day at Thors, minus the embarrassment at least. Apparently it was a day for the “enraged cat” end of the emotional spectrum.

“Well, well, it looks like my objecting to you being here just made you work that much harder to get on everyone else's good side,” she said, sounding at once irritated and resigned.

Her snark had about as much effect as a snowball on a tank. “I wouldn't dream of such a thing,” Sharon said, still with that ever-so-slightly cheeky smile. “Please have a safe and pleasant journey, my lady. I'll be counting the hours until your return.”

Alisa let out a huff. “Fine, I'm leaving already. . . .Wait a minute.” Her eyes narrowed. “You aren't plotting something else, are you?”

Sharon tilted her head, a quizzical look on her face. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Suuuuuuure you don't,” Alisa said, shaking her head. “Fine, we're leaving for real this time.”

There was a light mist hanging over Trista as they walked to the station. It felt almost like a moist blanket, gently muffling their footsteps. Rean found himself mentally drifting back to his sword training in the Eisengard Mountains. Mist was common up there, making it feel almost like another world.

Stepping into the train station brought him back to the present. Group B were, as expected, already waiting for them. Also as expected, an almost palpable awkwardness charged the air between Laura and Fie. Not at each others' throats, true, but Rean knew them well enough to see they were not happy.

“Ready to go?” Machias asked.

“Yep,” Rean said, covering a sigh. “Just need to buy our tickets.”

Keeping a subtle eye on the two girls, he stepped to the ticket counter. The first leg, if he understood things correctly, was for Heimdallr, less than an hour away. Change trains at Heimdallr, then probably change again at Roer, hopefully without Alisa exploding.

The next train to the capital was announced just as they reached the platform. “Now that's what I call timing,” Alisa said with a wry grin.

“True,” Laura agreed in a neutral tone. Fie glanced at her, but said nothing.

Is it just me, or did it suddenly get a lot colder in here?

“It seems there's a two-woman cold front blowing your way,” Jusis murmured.

Machias shot him a brief glare, but there was little heat in it. “We'll get them to thaw out. Somehow.”

“Yeah, just don't expect them to be, I don't know, weaving each other flower crowns when we get back,” Elliot agreed.

Rean sighed. “Okay, we'll leave them to you.”

Normally, Alisa enjoyed train rides. She loved watching the scenery flash past, feeling the deep thrum of the orbal engine. By rights this should have been even better, since she was traveling with friends. Unfortunately, she was too steamed to really enjoy it.

She was also very nervous. Of all the cities in the Empire, the last place she want to go was Roer, even just to change trains. True, she highly doubted they would run into her mother there; Irina Reinford was probably the biggest workaholic in all of Erebonia. Nevertheless, it felt very awkward at best.

None of her classmates noticed, of course. “Man, those sandwiches really hit the spot,” Rean said, leaning back in his seat.

“Ham, lettuce, cheese, and a hint of . . . pickle,” Gaius said. “Delicious.”

Emma smiled. “The way the ingredients come together is something special. Even the butter tastes different from what I'm used to.”

“Indeed,” Jusis agreed. “The tea is equally perfect; the sweetness of the lemon complements the taste perfectly.” His smile was faint, but genuine. “You have quite the maid looking after you.”

For a brief moment, Alisa was temped to smile back. Seeing the formerly stoic and aloof noble come out of his shell, and showing himself to be something of a gourmet, was funny. Her levity was brief, however, and quickly replaced by a mixture of annoyance and apprehension.

“Mother hired her,” she said. “Still, I can't deny she's a talented maid. She handles the housework and greeting guests, as you'd expect, but she also manages Mother's schedule.”

Emma's jaw dropped a little. “Wow,” was all she could say.

“Doesn't really sound like a typical maid's job description,” Rean observed.

Alisa sighed. “She really is that talented, though. Which is why I can't for the life of me figure out why Mother sent her out here. They're up to something, I'm sure of it.”

The others seemed taken aback. “Regardless, there are definite advantages to having her around,” Gaius said. “I think you should just accept your mother's kindness this time.”

“I agree,” Emma said. “She must have started work before sunrise to prepare these for us.”

They have a point, I guess, Alisa conceded to herself. But I don't think Mother even remembers what kindness is. “Anyway, look at those two,” she said, nodding across the aisle.

“Those two” being Laura and Fie, neither of whom had said a word since they boarded the train. It was nothing new for Fie, certainly, but it was downright shocking from Laura. Though no chatterbox by any means, Laura was always happy to engage in conversation with her classmates.

“So we're going to Bryonia Island this time,” Machias said, his tone just a bit stiff. “All I know is there are some ancient ruins there; I've no idea what to expect.”

Elliot smiled. “It'll be my first chance to see the ocean.” Something Alisa honestly envied them. “What about you two?”

“Now that you mention it, I haven't seen it, either,” Laura said.

“I have,” Fie said tonelessly.

Here it comes. “Have you?” Laura asked, eyebrows slightly raised.

“During a landing operation in the corps.”

And just like that, tension settled over them like a sopping wet blanket. Honestly, it was exasperating; Fie, for all that she could be unnerving, hadn't displayed any kind of hostility, and Laura, while a bit more clipped than usual, was her normal gracious self. And yet there was practically a steel wall between them.

Machias cleared his throat. “S-Speaking of ruins,” he said, "doesn't Legram have some fairly well-known ruins, Laura?”

“The Saint's Castle, right?” Elliot put in.

Laura nodded. “I believe you're referring to Lohengrin Castle,” she confirmed. “It's a magnificent stronghold that faces out into the lake. You can see it from the town. It's quite beautiful on days when the mist clears.”

Elliot whistled. “Sounds like a sight worth seeing,” Machias said.

Fie, naturally, was disturbingly pragmatic. “Seems like you'd be in trouble if a skilled sniper set himself up there.”

Come on, Fie. Can't you see anything just for the beauty of it, instead of how it can be used to kill? I mean sure, we're military academy students, but this is crazy!

“Not exactly getting along, are they?” Rean commented, showing an amazing grasp of the obvious.

“Hardly unsurprising,” Jusis said, allowing himself a faint sigh.

Alisa shook her head. “It's going a bit far, but I don't think Fie's really doing it on purpose.”

“And Laura seems uncharacteristically offended,” Emma added, frowning in concern. “This isn't like her at all.”

“She's always so composed, but something about Fie just gets under her skin,” Gaius agreed.

Well. There wasn't anything they could do just then, and worrying about it would just interfere with their field study. With Heimdallr Station drawing into view, they could only hope Group B could sort themselves out. Alisa had no doubts about Elliot, at least.

The capital's main railway hub was as cavernous as she remembered. If she wasn't used to the giant factory that was Roer, though, the noise would quickly have driven her insane. Trains came and went every five minutes, passengers and crew alike shouting to be heard over the engines.

“It never ceases to amaze me just how big Heimdallr Station is,” Rean said.

Even Jusis, who had likely visited the capital more than the rest of them, looked impressed. “I've heard it said that it's the largest station not merely in Erebonia, but on the entire continent. I can easily believe it; I have yet to hear of a station that can match the ten tracks found here.”

“The sheer number of people here threw me for a loop when I switched trains on the way to Trista,” Gaius said. “Not surprising there aren't as many people this early in the morning, though.”

Judging by the shuffling footsteps, Group B weren't quite so relaxed. “I don't think we can do this,” Machias groaned.

“You can't give up already!” Elliot protested. “We haven't even started!”

Truthfully, Alisa was inclined to agree with Machias. Rean could probably pull it off, like he had in Bareahard. Machias and Elliot, probably not. On the other hand, just giving up before they even reached their destination was hardly the way a Thors student should act.

“Hopeless,” was Jusis's only comment.

“Hey, let's not worry too much, okay?” Rean protested.

Gaius nodded. “Rean's right. What's most important is we all come back safe and sound.”

“I guess you're right,” Machias conceded with a sigh.

“We'll try to keep things from getting too dangerous, at least,” Elliot said.

Fair enough. And if things got nasty enough, Laura and Fie were more than skilled enough individually to take care of it. Alisa hoped it wouldn't come to that, but after two field studies in a row turning crazy, she wasn't prepared to make any bets.

Machias cleared his throat. “Anyway, this is where we separate.”

“You're going through Ordis, right?” Rean asked. “That's pretty far west.”

“Indeed,” Jusis said. “Meanwhile, Group A will have to travel northeast through Roer.”

Alisa twitched at the reminder. Please, dear Aidios, don't let Mother show up!

“I'm so jealous you get to visit Gaius's homeland,” Elliot said. “You'd better tell us all about it when you get back!”

Gaius smiled. “Will do. Take care, everyone.”

“That goes double for you, Laura, Fie,” Emma said.

Glancing between the two, all Alisa could think of to say was, “See you next week.”

It felt odd to be heading north again so soon. He'd been away from Ymir for around three months, and here he was already crossing into Nortia Province. Granted Ymir itself was quite a ways to the west of their route, but it was still a bit jarring.

“Let me tell you a bit more about Nord,” Gaius was saying. “The Nord Highlands are a mountainous region northeast of Erebonia. We'll have to cross the Eisengard Range to get there.”

“That's north of Roer,” Alisa said, looking a bit uneasy. “I'm guessing we'll have to pass through quite a few tunnels to get there.”

“Pretty much,” Gaius said with a nod. “Went through several of them on the way to Trista. Anyway, once on the other side we'll be in the Nord Highlands, surrounded on every side by mountains. Aside from a couple of Imperial Army bases, you'll only find people in nomadic settlements like my home.” He smiled wryly. “If anything, we have more sheep than people.”

Rean whistled softly. “Really? It feels like we're traveling to a country locked in time or something.”

“It sounds like a scene out of a picture book,” Emma agreed.

Jusis leaned forward a bit, looking more interested than Rean could recall seeing him. “In addition to the scenery, the Nord Highlands are also well known for breeding and raising of horses,” he said. “Most of the war horses in the Imperial Army are of highland stock.”

“That's true,” Gaius confirmed. “Horses are essential to the livelihood of my people. Raising horses and exporting them to the Empire is one of our main sources of income.”

Rean nodded slowly. “I remember my dad mentioning the horse we have at home is from the highlands, too. He's big and strong, and always has a dignified air.” He noticed Jusis smiling faintly in approval.

“Isn't that also true of the Riding Club's horses?” Alisa asked.

“Correct,” Jusis said. “All of them originally came from Nord. Indeed, it is said the golden stallion on the Imperial emblem depicts a war horse raised in the highlands.”

Emma pursed her lips. “It makes sense,” she said. “Nord has deep historical ties to the Empire; after all, it's where Emperor Dreichels first started building his army.”

“That's right,” Gaius said. “The Imperial Army still maintains a base right on the southern edge of the highlands, Zender Gate. That's as far north as we can go by train.”

Rean glanced at his watch. “We should arrive at around four in the afternoon, then.”

“It's eight AM now, so we should reach Roer by midday,” Alisa said. “Then it's another four hours to Zender Gate by freight train.”

Jusis covered a yawn. “Looks like we're in for a long haul.”

“We don't get a chance like this very often, though,” Emma pointed out, “so we should make the most of it.”

Though the trip had gone remarkably well thus far, Alisa couldn't shake a deep sense of foreboding as they neared Roer. It was as if things were going too well; Sharon's cooking was excellent as always, the trip to Heimdallr had gone without incident, and so far the second leg of their journey had been quiet. After all that, Alisa could just feel the other shoe waiting to drop.

“We've made it as far as Roer, at least,” Jusis commented as they stepped off the train.

Rean looked at Gaius. “We have to transfer to a freight line from here, right?”

“There's one we'll need to board at platform four,” the exchange student confirmed.

Alisa searched her memory. “That would be . . . up those stairs and to the left, I think.”

Despite their signature deep red jackets, no one gave them a second glance. Granted it was probably because everyone was too busy; as the largest industrial center in the Empire, Roer was a city that very seldom slept. Maybe, Alisa thought, they would get through without incident after all.

In retrospect, she should have known better.

“It's still four hours to Zender Gate by train,” Emma said. “Should we buy some lunches before we leave?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Rean said.

Gaius nodded. “We'll certainly need to eat something between now and then, especially since we'll have to cross part of the highlands to get to my home.”

“And I highly doubt a freight train would have vending machines,” Jusis added.

“We'll need to go through the gate, then,” Alisa said. “There's a shop in the main part of the station that sells prepackaged lunches.”

“Oh, there won't be any need for that.”

Alisa went rigid, her brain seeming to shut down. It couldn't be, it just couldn't. There was no possible way could have gotten to Roer, certainly not ahead of the Class VII students. And yet there she was standing a few arge away, an innocent smile on her face. A smile Alisa did not trust for an instant.

It took a few seconds for her mouth to work correctly. “H-H-H-How did you get here before us!?” Alisa demanded.

Sharon laughed softly. “The power of my love for you allows me to do the impossible, my lady.” She held up a basket. “As you can see, I've prepared lunches for all of you that far surpass this morning's offerings. I do hope you'll enjoy them.”

Rean accepted the basket, looking as stunned as Alisa felt. “Um, thanks,” he managed.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Emma said, bowing slightly.

Gaius folded his arms. “I have to say, though, I'm curious as to how you managed to get here before us.”

“It seems the Reinford family's maid enjoys a little amusement at her employer's expense,” Jusis said, sounding a bit amused himself. “I imagine you transferred to an airship in the capital?”

Oh. Duh. Of course; it's a lot faster than any train, and it would be just like her. She really loves her little games.

“Of course,” Rean said, echoing Alisa's thoughts. “I should've though of that; you can cut your travel time in half by airship, if I remember right.”

Sharon giggled. “You got me! I also took the liberty of borrowing the airship's kitchen to prepare your lunches. They're quite fresh, so please take a moment to savor the taste.”

Alisa sighed. “I knew you had to be up to something.” Her eyes narrowed. “Now, you're not planning on coming all the way to the Nord Highlands, are you?”

The maid smiled faintly. “Much as I'd love to, I have business to attend to elsewhere. It may be some time before I can return to Trista as well.”

“What other business?” Alisa asked suspiciously.

Her answer came from the worst source possible. “Sharon will be assisting me with my work.”

Alisa's blood ran cold. A woman in her early forties had come up behind Sharon. Clad in an off-white blouse and dark blue skirt, a long purple scarf around her neck, her blonde hair cut short, slightly tinted glasses on her face, she looked every rege the Erebonian businesswoman.

“Mother!?”

“Hello, Alisa,” the older woman said calmly. “Ah, you all must be members of Class VII.” She inclined her head slightly, though Alisa saw no real courtesy in the gesture. “I'm Alisa's mother, Irina, and chairman of the Reinford Group. It's a pleasure to meet you all.”

Yeah, sure it is.

“I-It's a pleasure,” Rean said. From his stumbling tone, he'd noticed something wasn't quite right. “I'm Rean Schwarzer.”

“Emma Millstein,” Emma said, offering a bow.

“Gaius Worzel. Glad to make your acquaintance.” Hard to tell what he was thinking.

She couldn't see Jusis, but his tone spoke volumes. “Jusis Albarea. A pleasure.”

Her mother nodded, a touch briskly. “I'm glad you're managing to get along with my obstinate daughter. Now, I'd love to stay, but I unfortunately have business that can't wait. Come along, Sharon.”

For a moment Alisa could only stare as her mother walked away. She'd known the other was going to be dismissive, of course, but this surpassed even her low expectations. Being called “obstinate” in front of her classmates (and thank Aidios she'd made up with Rean months before) didn't help.

“That's it!?” Alisa finally burst out. “You show up like this and that's all you have to say!?” She gritted her teeth. “It's always work with you, isn't it!? You probably didn't even notice I'd left until I was already gone. And now it's just, 'Hello, Alisa' like nothing ever happened!?”

Even Sharon seemed taken aback by her sheer vehemence. Irina, not so much. “You can live your life as you see fit,” she said. “I have no intention of forcing the Reinford Group on you. Even if you decide to follow a . . . certain someone's path and cast aside all sense of responsibility, it's up to you.” She smiled thinly. “Besides, I still manage to keep myself informed of your academy life, in the monthly reports I receive from the academy.”

Alisa's lip twitched. “I knew Sharon would relay information about me,” she muttered, “but reports from the academy itself?”

Irina's eyebrows lifted slightly. “Oh, you must not have known. In addition to my other responsibilities, I also sit on the Thors board of directors.”

This time, Alisa could tell her classmates shared her shock. It just didn't make sense; her mother barely had time to eat, much less serve in any kind of supervisory role over the most prestigious military school in the Empire. There simply weren't enough hours in a day.

“Well, I'd certainly deem the chairman of the Reinford Group as a canny choice for the board of directors,” Jusis commented.

“We're heavily involved in the development of the orbal staff,” Irina said, nodding at Emma, “as well as your ARCUS. I must say, I'm quite pleased at the reports I've seen of your usage of both.”

And that's probably true. The ARCUS especially could mean a lot of mira.

“I'm looking forward to seeing the results of this month's field study,” her mother added. “Do give me some good reading, would you?” And just like that, she was gone.

Only their tight schedule kept Alisa from standing at the platform fuming. Who the hell does she think she is!?

For a freight train, the line to Zender Gate was surprisingly comfortable. Rean couldn't help but be grateful for Sharon's thoughtfulness, though; his stomach started rumbling within an hour of leaving Roer. Her choice of dishes left him wondering if she'd visited Ymir.

Alisa, unsurprisingly, was fuming. “Damn it,” she muttered. “I thought I'd gotten out from under her thumb, but it looks like she was one step ahead of me the whole time.”

“I take it you and your mother aren't on good terms, then,” Rean ventured.

Alisa snorted. “Yeah, I think that was abundantly clear. Things have been rocky between us for years now.” She sighed. “Once I left home, I went straight to the academy.” She practically gnashed her teeth. “But how was I supposed to know I'd gone and signed up for the school she sits on the board of directors for!? How could I have been so stupid!? Why didn't I investigate more thoroughly before making my choice!?”

Even Jusis flinched slightly at her sheer vehemence. “I . . . honestly don't know what to say,” Rean managed.

“You have our sympathies, I suppose,” Emma said.

Gaius sat forward. “Is your mother being on the Thors board of directors really that much of a problem?”

Alisa sighed again. “It's complicated,” she said quietly. “Most of the time she only cares about her work, but then she'll suddenly turn around and meddle in my life. She says to do what I want, but she always seems to be there ahead of me. Like today.” She shook her head. “I should've known something was up. The bank account my grandfather set up to cover my academy expenses hasn't gone down by a single mira.”

Easy to see where she was going. “So your mother's been paying your bills the whole time?” Rean prompted.

“That does seem likely, especially with her position on the board of directors,” Emma agreed.

Jusis shook his head. “I don't see what you're grousing about. Most people would be grateful to have a parent display that much interest.”

Alisa's eyes widened. “Huh?”

“At least your mother spared the time to come and greet us,” Jusis said. “At least she showed the slightest trace of interest in you and your classmates.” He shook his head again. “Forget it.”

In Rean's opinion, they both had a point. On the one hand, it was hard to blame Jusis for seeming to envy Alisa, after the way His Grace Duke Helmut Albarea had behaved during their field study in Bareahard. On the other, Irina Reinford hadn't exactly made a good first impression herself. There was something about her Rean didn't quite trust.

“Well, we've entered a tunnel,” Gaius said when the train abruptly darkened. “The first of many, now that we're going through the mountains.”

It was an eerie sensation. To be sure, Rean had been through tunnels before; there were at least two in the Eisengard Range. None, however, had been as long as the one they were now traversing. It felt almost like being entombed.

“Wow, going all the way to the highlands for a field study?” The speaker was a man in his thirties, the conductor judging by his garb. “You budding soldiers do some pretty interesting things these days.”

“You could say that,” Rean conceded. “I get the impression this is pretty unusual, though.”

Emma nodded. “I haven't heard of any other military academy with such a course.”

The conductor smiled. “Still feels pretty neat, seeing you all dressed up in those uniforms. Have to say, they look sharp.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Gaius said.

Rean chuckled. “Even at the Academy, Gaius stands out because of his height. I think only Principal Vandyck is taller, and him just barely.”

“He even towers over the second years,” Alisa agreed, visibly stifling a giggle.

Jusis tilted his head slightly. “Are all the people from your settlement of similar height?”

Gaius laughed. “Nah, my dad's the only one who really has any height on me. My younger brother is actually pretty short, though I don't doubt he has at least one more growth spurt on the way.”

“I seem to recall you mentioning quite a few siblings,” Emma said.

“A brother and two sisters,” Gaius confirmed. “They're a little on the shy side, but I hope you get along with them.”

Rean leaned back, casually glancing out the window. They'd cleared the tunnel, revealing gently rolling countryside. Similar, yet different from what he knew. “Feels like we're really getting close to the highlands,” he remarked.

The conductor chuckled. “Off on a new adventure, I'm kinda jealous. Anyway, we're about halfway through the Eisengard Range. Another two hours or so and we should reach Zender Gate. Might as well relax in the meantime.”

Sounded like a plan. Rean was almost ready to just take a nap, but that would have meant missing out on too much. This was his first trip abroad, and he was not going to waste it. After all, there was no telling when or how what he saw and heard could prove useful.

“Say,” he said, looking at Gaius, “did you meet that conductor on your way to Trista?”

“Sure did,” Gaius said. “Had plenty of time to kill, so he taught me a lot about Erebonian culture. A little about the aristocracy, the railway network of course, and so on.”

“Sounds like a good primer,” Emma said.

Gaius smiled. “Believe me, it was. There's a lot of people I'm thankful to for helping me come this far. The guidance of the winds and the Goddess most of all.”

Rean chuckled. “Classic Gaius.”

To his mild chagrin, Jusis had fallen asleep somewhere along the way. Granted it was the farthest he had ever traveled, but still, someone in his position should have been able to stay awake, Suppressing the urge to wipe at his face, he sat up straight and looked out the window.

What he saw took his breath away.

Not much of the landscape was visible past the bridge supports, but there was no mistaking it. They had arrived at Zender Gate, gateway to the Nord Highlands. Just barely visible beyond was their destination, the rugged hills of Nord itself.

“I must admit, it's even more breathtaking than I'd imagined,” he said.

“I'll be even happier to hear that once you've seen it up close,” Gaius said.

A few minutes later, half past four by Jusis's watch, the five of them stepped off into Zender Gate proper. The place was fairly typical of the Imperial Army, built of steel, functional in design, soldiers going about their business. A faint smell of oil lingered in the air.

“Ah, you've arrived.”

The speaker was a middle-aged man in Army purple and black. His hair and neatly-trimmed mustache were brown with just a trace of gray, his faced on the craggy side. He wore a sword at his hip, but his most striking feature was a black eye patch over his right eye.

Where have I seen him before?

“It's a pleasure to see you again, Lieutenant General,” Gaius said, inclining his head.

“Likewise,” the officer said, smiling a little. “It's been months since we last met. It's almost surreal seeing you standing there in a military academy uniform.” He raised an eyebrow. “Though this is the first time I've seen the Thors ensemble in red.”

Gaius shrugged. “This is the color they use for my class, Class VII.”

“He looks pretty high up in the Imperial Army,” Alisa whispered.

“Probably the general in charge of Zender Gate,” Rean said, just as softly.

Emma frowned. “How is it he's so close to Gaius?”

The answer was tantalizingly close. “An Imperial general with an eye patch,” Jusis murmured. He froze. Could it be. . .?

“So, these must be your classmates,” the general said.

“That's right,” Gaius said. “About half of my classmates from Class VII.”

Rean half-bowed; apparently he'd picked up on it as well. “I'm Rean Schwarzer; it's a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Alisa Reinford, sir.”

“I'm Emma Millstein, sir.”

Jusis copied Rean's gesture. “Jusis Albarea. It's an honor.”

The general laughed. “I see your classmates are an interesting bunch.” He bowed slightly in return. “I'm Zechs Vander, commanding officer of the Imperial Army's Third Armored Division. Pleased to finally meet you.”

Rean gasped. “One-Eyed Zechs!”

“As I thought, one of the guardians of the Arnor family,” Jusis said.

Both eyebrows lifted. “Oh, so some of you already know of me?”

Emma apparently didn't. “A guardian of the Arnor family?” she said, clearly puzzled.

“The Vanders are a celebrated military family responsible for protecting the Arnor family,” Jusis explained. “And 'One-Eyed' Zechs Vander is said to be one of the army's finest generals.”

Rean nodded. “They say the Vander and Arseid schools of swordsmanship are the most renowned in the Empire. It's . . . truly an honor to meet you, sir.”

Always the swordsman. There was no rancor in the thought. Jusis had the utmost respect for his friend's devotion to the art. It was only natural he would feel just a bit awed at meeting a master of the Vander school. For that matter, Jusis himself couldn't help feeling slightly . . . inadequate, for lack of a better word.

Vander laughed again. “I'm just a military man, hardly deserving quite that level of praise.” He shook his head. “Much as I'd love to hear about your excursion into the highlands, I'm afraid we simply don't have the time. You should set out as soon as possible if you want to reach the settlement by nightfall.”

Gaius nodded. “Were you able to take care of the arrangements?”

“I did, rest assured.”

“What kind of arrangements?” Emma asked, sounding as puzzled as Jusis felt.

“We need to reach the settlement by sundown, right?” Alisa said, frowning.

The look on Gaius's face was somehow reminiscent of Instructor Sara. “That's why I asked the general to arrange some transportation for us. I think Jusis especially will like it.”

Vander laughed again. “Just follow me.”

The sun was indeed low in the west, leading Jusis to honestly wonder how they would reach Gaius's home before nightfall. It was a distant thought, however; he was too engrossed in the vista before him. The red-gold light of late afternoon bathed the highlands in fire.

It was this kind of thing that made joining Class VII worthwhile.

“Simply breathtaking,” Emma said, sounding awed.

Jusis nodded. “I had no idea a land so beautiful existed at the far end of the railway.” He smiled wistfully. “There really aren't words to encapsulate such majesty.”

“I'm glad you think so,” Gaius said.

A familiar soft clip-clop drew their attention. Two Third Armored soldiers led a quartet of horses over. Jusis felt his pulse quicken, just a little; he'd spend a lot of time riding, of course, but never like this. He could tell at a glance the horses were well-bred and strong.

“We're to travel to the settlement on horseback?” he ventured.

“The highlands are way too vast to cover in any reasonable length of time on foot,” Gaius said. “You'll be fine; you're a member of the Riding Club, and I'm pretty sure Rean and Alisa have some experience.”

Alisa nodded a bit hesitantly. “I think I can manage.”

“I learned back home, so I should be okay as long as we're not trying any tricky jumps,” Rean agreed. Despite his words, Jusis could see a glimmer of excitement in the other noble's eyes. Rean was looking forward to this.

“Um, I've never ridden a horse before,” Emma said nervously.

Gaius waved a hand. “Not a problem. You can ride with someone else; considering balance of weight, Alisa would probably be the best choice.”

Alisa smiled. “I can handle that. How does that sound, Emma?”

“I'm a little nervous, but I think I'll manage,” the class president said.

Seeing no reason for further delay, Jusis swung himself up astride the nearest horse, a handsome chestnut stallion. It shifted a little, likely adjusting to his weight, and quickly settled. A fine horse indeed, he mused, gently stroking the animal's mane.

Rean looked just a bit awkward, but in all likelihood simply due to lack of practice. To Jusis's eye, he had the potential to be as skilled a horseman as he was a swordsman. A pity he was too busy running errands to be enticed into the Riding Club. On the other hand, they could always put in a request with Student Council. . . .

“Are you doing okay back there, Emma?” Alisa asked.

“I'm fine . . . I think.”

Alisa chuckled. “Just make sure to hold on tight.”

General Vander walked up to Rean's horse. “They're all fine horses raised here in the highlands,” he said. “At a good clip, you should be able to reach the settlement in under an hour. Before I forget,” he reached into a pocket, “while Gaius won't need it, the rest of you should take a map of the highlands.”

Jusis glanced at it. Everything was marked in exacting detail, as one would expect of an elite Imperial Army formation. “I see the army's surveying expertise has been put to good use.”

“Indeed,” Vander said. “I hope you'll all find it useful.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” Rean said, speaking for all of them.

Vander nodded. “All right, that's enough from me. You should be heading out. May the blessing of the winds and the Goddess be with you. Please give my regards to Lacan and the elder.”

“We will,” Gaius said, and urged his horse forward.

It was quite possibly the most exhilarating experience of Jusis's life. Wind whipped at his jacket as his mount practically flew over the rugged landscape. Everything he'd done with the Riding Club, even his excursions in Aurochs Canyon, paled by comparison. Nothing could compare to a full gallop across the Nord Highlands.

“This is worlds apart from the bustle of the city,” Rean said. He grinned. “Much as I love Trista, this is something special.”

“It sure is!” Alisa agreed, her voice rising in excitement. “I feel like I'm one with the wind!”

Emma gulped. “Indeed, b-but it would be nice if you didn't go too fast.”
Jusis glanced back at them. “Don't worry, I'm sure it will feel natural with time.” He allowed himself a smile. “No doubt the Riding Club would be fuming with envy if they could see us now.”

“I'll just bet,” Rean said.

Gaius laughed at their enthusiasm. “My home settlement is due northeast of here; we should be able to reach it by sundown.”

Jusis almost regretted that. Part of him just wanted to stay out and keep on riding, to lose himself in the highlands. He scolded himself for the thought; there would no doubt be plenty of riding during their field study out of sheer necessity. Besides which, his stomach abruptly reminded him, he couldn't exactly ride without eating.

His fellow Erebonians appeared to be enjoying the ride just as much. Rean managed his horse well enough that most people wouldn't have noticed his inexperience, and Alisa was grinning like a child. Even Emma appeared to have settled her nerves.

“Yoohoo!” Alisa called, her voice echoing across the landscape. She looked a bit sheepish. “Sorry, guess I got caught up in the moment.”

“You can hardly be blamed,” Jusis assured her. “Would that the others were here to see it.”

They rode on in silence for a while, just taking in the atmosphere. Here, on these vast plains, the legendary Emperor Dreichels Reise Arnor had begun to raise his army. First his friends from Nord (very possibly including Gaius's direct ancestors), then a mishmash of various Erebonians, including the legendary Eisenritter.

“So, which way do we go?” Rean asked when they paused near a rocky outcropping.

“It's easy to lose one's sense of direction in such vast plains,” Jusis agreed.

Gaius nodded. “Maybe it would help if I showed you a couple of landmarks.” He pointed back the way they'd come. “That, of course, is Zender Gate.” He shifted to the nearby outcropping. “Triangular Rock. You might say it's the centerpiece of this part of the highlands.”

“The farther away we can see it, the more useful it'll be,” Rean observed.

“What about that building to the left?” Alisa asked.

Gaius followed her gaze. “That? It's a watchtower the Imperial Army build in the southeastern part of the highlands. I've heard it's there to keep an eye on the Calvard Republic to the east.”

“Hardly a surprise, given the constant tension between the Republic and the Empire,” Jusis observed.

“Yeah,” Rean said, “the highlands border both Erebonia and Calvard, just like Crossbell.”

“Yep,” Gaius said. He nodded toward the north. “My home is right around those mountains.”

Emma shifted a little. “Speaking of landmarks, what are those stone pillars just west of us?”

If it wasn't so undignified, Jusis would have kicked himself for not noticing earlier. “Clearly man-made, or at least not the sort of construct nature would just leave lying about.”

Gaius shrugged. “There are quite a few similar objects and structures scattered throughout the highlands,” he said. “Most folks think they're remnants of the Neolithic civilization that existed here over a thousand years ago.”

Rean whistled. “That's pretty far back.”

“In a way, they're not dissimilar to the various animist ruins in Erebonia,” Jusis said, eying the structure with new interest.

Gaius waved them forward. “I don't blame you for being curious, but we should save that discussion for later. Right now, we need to reach the settlement before sundown. We're almost there.”

The sun was almost to the horizon when they rode into Gaius's home village. Rean's first thought, glancing around in the fading light, was how efficiently the place was set up. His trained eye picked out spots on the fencing that made it easily collapsible when the time came to move. The vaguely domed tents (yurts, if he recalled correctly) were neatly arranged, making it simple to find where everything was.

He scolded himself. You shouldn't be thinking like that about your classmate's home.

“Wow,” was all Alisa had to say.

“Even though I've never been here, it feels, I don't know, nostalgic somehow,” Emma murmured.

Jusis appeared more relaxed than Rean had ever seen him. “Indeed. Something about the atmosphere makes me wistful for my own home.”

“You can say that again,” Rean agreed, the vast mountains of the Eisengard Range appearing in his mind's eye.

Gaius smiled. “We don't actually stay here year-round. Sometime between summer and fall, we move to another location farther north.”

Rean frowned slightly. “That's why you live in those . . . yurts, I think they're called?”

“Yep,” Gaius confirmed. “They're made with thick cloth, and designed so we can put them up and take them down on short notice.” He nodded to one side. “Anyway, let me show you my home first.”

“Broooooooo!”
The voice was female, and quite young, Rean estimated around eleven or twelve. An estimate that was immediately confirmed when a brown-haired blur all but crashed into Gaius as he crouched down. The younger of his two sisters, obviously.

“Welcome home!” the older girl said. “We missed you!”

Gaius grinned. “Hey, Lily, Sheeda. I'm back. Good to see you looking well too, Thoma,” he added to the boy next to them.”

Thoma, who looked a lot like his brother despite being half an arge shorter, laughed. “I'm glad you made it back safely,” he said. “It's good to see you, Bro.”

“They really do love him,” Rean said in a low voice.

Alisa looked wistful. “Yeah. Watching him makes me wish I had a little brother or sister.”

Jusis, Rean couldn't help noticing, twitched a bit. Probably thinking of his own rather twisted home life, Rean thought sadly.

“Oh, are these the people you wrote about in your letters?” Thoma asked, appearing to notice Rean and the others for the first time.

Gaius smiled. “They are indeed, the illustrious, industrious Class VII.”

His siblings looked a bit nervous, but none drew back. “Nice to meet you,” Thoma said. “I'm Thoma, Gaius's brother.” He gestured to the girls. “These are our sisters, Sheeda and Lily.”

“I-It's nice to meet you,” the older girl, Sheeda by order of introduction, said.

“Are you Bro's friends?” Lily asked.

Rean smiled. “Sure are! I'm Rean.”

“I'm Alisa. It's lovely to meet you.”

“You're so cute. I'm Emma.”

Jusis, predictably, was more formal. “Jusis Albarea. It's an honor.”

Covering a smile, Rean looked past the youngsters to a middle-aged couple who, judging by their appearance could only be Gaius's parents. His father was possibly the tallest man Rean had ever met, at the least equaling Principal Vandyck. His face was largely square, with a scar crossing beneath his eyes. He carried himself with a certain stillness, like Gaius only more so.

Gaius's mother was shorter, but with the same air of calm. To that she added a certain elegance, in some ways reminding Rean of his own mother. He felt a pang of homesickness at the thought, but quickly suppressed it. It wasn't like he was never going to return to Ymir.

“Welcome home, Gaius,” the woman said, and looked at the rest of the group. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Gaius's mother, Fatma.”

Alisa's jaw dropped. “His mother!?”

“But you look so young,” Emma said, clearly puzzled.

Fatma laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Her husband allowed himself a smile. “I'm Gaius's father, Lacan Worzel. It's a great pleasure to meet Gaius's friends and classmates.”

“The pleasure is all ours, sir,” Rean said, inclining his head respectfully.

“Likewise,” Jusis said.

Lacan bowed slightly. “I've prepared a place for all of you to stay while you're our guests. There is much to discuss, of course, but you should drop off your belongings there first.” He waved them forward. “It will soon be sundown. Come to my home and share in our evening meal.”

Fortunately for Rean's stomach, the belongings he had to drop off consisted mainly of a spare uniform and his student notebook. As was his habit, he kept his sword and ARCUS with him; not that he distrusted Gaius's people by any means, but in a place like Nord there was always the chance of nasty wildlife showing up.

Not that he was thinking about that very much. His mind was almost entirely on food. Indeed, it was hard not to be focused on food in Gaius's home. The five from Class VII, along with Gaius's parents and siblings, sat on the floor of a large yurt, around a large, steaming pot of stew. Plates of various other foods ringed it.

“This is delicious,” Emma sighed.

Alisa looked at Fatma in evident disbelief. “How do you get it to taste so good!?”

The older woman smiled. “We season the pheasant meat with herbs and rock salt, then wrap and cook it. It's made to the tastes of us highlanders, so I don't know if you Erebonians will like it.”

Rean had to swallow before speaking. “You don't have to worry about that,” he said, taking a sip of water. “I'll be wanting seconds soon.” He picked up a skewer. “These are really good, too. A rich, deep flavor.”

“Those are kebabs,” Thoma said; he'd taken to Class VII more quickly than his sisters. “We just some put lamb meat on a skewer and grill it.”

Jusis by rights should have looked out of place in such an environment, but he didn't. “The food here is exquisite. I've never tasted the like before. I almost feel sorry the rest of our class isn't here to enjoy it.”

“I'm glad you think so,” Fatma said.

Gaius laughed lightly. “And here I was, worried you wouldn't like the food.”

Rean joined in the general mirth. Truth be told, he felt relaxed here, more than even in Celdic. A sumptuous, home-cooked meal with plenty of meat, it reminded him very strongly of his childhood. In particular, he saw a lot of his mother in Fatma Worzel, enough that he could easily see how Gaius came to be such a thoughtful young man.

“You must be tired from the journey,” Lacan said. “Nord cuisine is effective at easing fatigue, which is important when you travel as much as we do.”

“I can see why,” Rean said. “I already feel more relaxed.”

“Maybe I should get these recipes so I can teach them to Sharon,” Alisa put in.

Now there was a pleasant thought. Sharon Kreuger's cooking was already some of the best Rean had ever tasted. Adding Nord dishes to her repertoire could only benefit the whole class. He could just see Machias and Elliot digging in; heck, even Instructor Sara would appreciate it.

“Umm, try some of the tea, too,” Sheeda said. “We make it with local herbs; it's supposed to be good for the digestion.”

Rean did, and found it to be as exceptional as the rest of the meal. It was good enough, in fact, that he made a mental note to learn the recipe himself; even he got tired of green tea sometimes. If nothing else, Nord tea was something he could indulge in before bed.

His first impulse was to help clean up, but the Worzels wouldn't hear of it. Fatma in particular insisted he rest after their very long day. Rean would have protested, but a sudden sluggish feeling in his limbs made the decision for him. Bed was looking more and more appealing.

“The land of Nord is nothing if not a free country,” Lacan said. “I have no doubt your time here will make for a very . . . unique experience, though not without inconveniences here and there. Still, these highlands do have a lot of history with your own homeland.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Are you referring to the story of Emperor Dreichels, by any chance?”

“We've been learning in class how he started gathering his army here during the War of the Lions,” Rean added.

Lacan nodded approvingly. “Indeed. Tales of his exploits are passed down here in Nord as well. After the war, as you probably know, he became Emperor of Erebonia and swore eternal friendship with the people of Nord. That friendship has held strong to this day, and I pray it will continue far into the future.”

Jusis rubbed his chin. “While the people of Nord are not counted as true Erebonians. . . .”

“They're still regarded as our close allies and neighbors,” Rean finished. “And I for one am glad to call a son of Nord a personal friend,” he added, nodding at Gaius.

“I believe Rean speaks for all of us,” Jusis agreed.

Lacan smiled. “I'm glad to hear that, more than I can say.” He sighed. “Recently, however, the Calvard Republic has been creeping into the southeastern highlands. They've been trying to cultivate good relations with the people there, but the tension is undeniable.”

Alisa grimaced. “The Empire and Republic are old foes, after all,” she said. A shadow passed over her face; Rean had the distinct impression this was more personal for her than she liked to admit.

“We've at least avoided armed conflict over the last few years,” Emma said, “although from a political and economic standpoint, relations are only getting worse.”

“It does seem likely that simmering tension contributed to the incident in Crossbell last month,” Jusis put in. “No doubt an outgrowth of the ongoing conflict between pro-Calvardian and pro-Erebonian forces in their government.”

“Seems like,” Rean said, recalling news reports he'd read after returning from Bareahard.

Lacan waved one hand. “Be that as it may, both countries see Nord as a remote region of relatively little importance. Granted there is a military presence in the highlands, it isn't something you should have to worry about during your stay. Just try to focus on your field study while you're here.”

“We'll do what we can,” Rean said, and offered a wry smile. “Don't worry about inconveniences; we're military students, and I spent months training under Yun Ka-fai. 'Inconvenience' kinda takes on a whole new meaning with that kind of experience.”

Chuckling, Alisa leaned forward. “You must be the one who assigned our field study tasks.”

“Indeed I am,” Lacan said with a nod. “The hour is already late, so I'll give them to you in the morning. As far as the area of your study, I think it best if you concentrate on the southwestern plains tomorrow morning.”

“We crossed that area in our trek here today,” Emma noted.

“Yeah,” Gaius said. “The highlands are a vast, wide-open space, as you saw. They extend well past the northern end of the settlement, too, but Dad's right, we should concentrate on the southwest.”

Rean suppressed a yawn. “Sounds good to me.”

“So everything on our agenda in the morning is in the southwest, right?” Alisa said.

“Exactly,” Lacan confirmed, and looked at his son. “Try and be back at the settlement around noon, Gaius. I'll give you the remaining tasks after the midday meal.”

“Got it.”

Lacan sat back. “And here I am talking your ears off when I should be letting you rest after your long day. We rise before the sun here, so sleep well. Morning will come sooner than you think.”

The tent Gaius led them to was cozy enough, but with one potential issue: it was just the one tent, which meant they would all have to share. Rean glanced sidelong at Alisa, memories of Celdic flashing through his mind. He prayed she didn't decide to make an issue of it; there was a partition, at least.

Ever the gracious host, Gaius was quick to head things off. “Sorry about this,” he said. “I know you girls would prefer separate rooms, but this is what we've got.”

“Don't worry about it,” Alisa said with a smile. “We've had worse.”

“Rean and Jusis are both gentlemen, so we have nothing to worry about,” Emma agreed.

Jusis's lip twitched. “But of course.”

Quietly breathing a sigh of relief that Alisa hadn't exploded, Rean smiled. “Thanks, Gaius. You'll be staying with your family, then?”

“My sisters both insisted on it,” Gaius said with a wry smile. “I couldn't turn them down. Will it be all right if I come wake you guys at sunrise?”

“Sounds good to me,” Alisa said, glancing at her classmates for confirmation.