Book 6 - Chapter 16 (Patreon)

The grounds in front of the Tower were a huge twisting garden landscape of raised hedges and blooming flowers that rotated around in a confusing pattern that also somehow left a straight shot straight to the front entrance. A random scattering of the stones on the paths glowed at night, and now in the morning light several others were sparkly or highly reflective. He thought it was probably patterned after the description of Sezorat’s labyrinth in the Second Writ, which was an insight he would not be sharing with any of his new classmates.

Perhaps more beautiful than the grounds were the students themselves. They walked towards the Tower as if they belonged in places like this, just more flowers for the garden. The boys mostly wore the standard Steamshield attire for gentlemen like you’d see on the street, much like Brin was wearing, but they walked with the effortless poise of those born to this life, not Brin's economical gait he'd picked up on a battlefield.

The girls had foregone any of the city’s muted blacks and grays. They wore colorful skirts and blouses, all of subtly different styles, but still cut in such a way they sort of all fit together. If Brin lined them all up side by side, he could believe that they were all modeling for the same catalog.

And he knew that this was just his sixteen-year-old brain, but they were all really pretty. Without fail, they were striking beauties. He thought he might be in love with all of them collectively, as well as each of them individually. A lady with golden curls to match a glittering dress swished a few steps in front of him. Should he walk faster and catch up? Over there a freckly red-head, and there a girl with a farmer’s tan in a sleeveless green dress. A dark-skinned Pollisian girl walked next to a woman with white hair and the palest skin he’d ever seen. He found it hard to look away from any of them.

He’d never felt so far away from old Mark, and he’d never felt such resistance to his mental promise to not date under 20.  What did that old life have to do with this one, anyway?

He used [Wyrdic Inspect] to start getting their names and saw that Lumina was right to tell him to wait until sixteen to come here. Most of the students were seventeen or eighteen, with a few here and there older than twenty. But then, as if to remind him of why he’d made that old promise in the first place, he found that at least forty percent of the students here had the [Child] Class.

He sighed, and the feeling passed. He wasn’t really interested in dating anyway, was he? He couldn’t stop himself from having hormones, but that didn’t change anything about how he was going to act. These girls were too young for him.

Resolution firmed, he began walking with renewed purpose towards the gate. 

Meanwhile, there were actually a few other people in the courtyard he wanted to talk to for actual legitimate reasons, and it was better to do it now while first-day jitters made everyone's tongues loose. He wanted to scope out those with high levels and interesting Classes. 

He surreptitiously created a series of Mirror Men all wearing different faces and had them spread out through the crowds, having them chat up the interesting Classes. An extremely tall young man was a level 35 [Mage of Sparks]. A very timid-looking level 15 [Gravity Mage] girl started babbling the second he introduced himself, relieved to have someone to talk to. He met a 24-year old man who had the general [Mage], despite wearing clothes that belonged on a poor commoner from out of the city, and a few others. None of these people met the real him, but all of them gave him clues about their Classes, and helped him decide if he should introduce himself for real later.

Everyone he approached was quick to respond and easy to speak to. He wasn’t the only person here who’d had a recently sheltered life and were now suddenly face to face with many of the finest examples of the opposite sex. Most of the students had halted their journey to the doors to stand and chat with their peers. Not a few of them were looking at him, which wasn’t surprising considering the entrance he’d made. The golden haired girl in front of him, and now he knew her name was Sancha, was currently being lectured to by a skinny boy next to her.

His name was Guoncal and was bucking the trend of muted colors for gentlemen. He wore a bright blue blazer over a sea green vest. Sancha had a servant carrying her books, but Guoncal carried them all himself in addition to a jar holding a couple of beetles.

“…the male be brightly coloured by Nature’s hand. ’Tis a strange perversity in our kind that the females do array themselves in such vivid and gaudy hues, when no other creature in all creation doth so behave. The females of our species have no true need to draw the male’s eye. And yet, though I know thee but little, I have small need of deeper knowledge. My lady, thou mightst be clad in the coarsest sackcloth, in roughest burlap, and still would men come about thee like flies to honey, striving to mate with thee.”

It was almost a good line, in Brin’s estimation. Guoncal had implied that Sancha would be pretty no matter what she wore, but… he really shouldn’t have used the word ‘mate’. Sancha was clearly having none of it.

“Thou thinkest, then, that my care in apparel is but to lure the attentions of men,” said Sancha stiffly.

“What other cause could there be?”

They were walking slow enough that there was no way for Brin not to catch up to them, so he increased his speed, aiming to get around them.

“Clothes aren’t fur or feathers,” Brin noted as he passed. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m not a bug.”

Sancha threw her head back and laughed. "Anabet! Anabet, come quickly and hear what Lord Mistaken hath said!"

She didn't laugh quite so loudly as to lose all decorum, but very nearly. To Brin's surprise, several people nearby joined in. Then more people drew near to see what the laughter was about, and Brin heard his comment being repeated over and over.

Guoncal grit his teeth and grew increasingly red in the face.

“We are fine folks, some of us. Gentlemen and ladies, surely all! Even the beasts and and birds among us have titles or means or both!” the pale white-haired girl took up in a sing-song voice.

“Beast or birds, but what of bugs?” the Pollisian responded.

“Aye! I spy one there!”

Nearly in unison, several of the students began to sing. “Guoncal the Bug Lord. Is he the Lord of bugs, or does he bug the Lords?”

This was clearly getting out of hand. He’d just made one little comment, he hadn’t meant to start a group hazing event. He winced, looking at Guoncal, “I didn’t mean–”

“No, it is I who should depart,” said Guoncal, and darted away.

Brin sighed, but Sancha was beaming at him. “I am the Lady Sancha of Tavares, and it gladdeth me right well to make thy acquaintance.”

“Mistaken is true. And Guoncal was right about one thing, but I don’t think I should say what,” said Brin. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

He sped up again, and Sancha slowed to join in the chatter with her friends behind. They were still laughing and singing the made up song, and a few of them had even started to prance around to it.

“Now do me,” said a new voice. He wasn’t sure how she’d caught up with him so quickly, but he recognized her. This was Lady Bia of Guven, the [Farseeing Scout] that Lumina had warned him about back during the war.

He wondered if she’d noticed that several of their classmates were Brin’s glass copies. With her Class, she definitely had. He’d need to be careful around her.

Bia was the only woman Brin could see that wasn’t wearing a dress. She wore trousers, very tight trousers that reminded Brin that no matter his resolution, his hormones weren't done with him yet. At least she was twenty. Did that help? He decided it did. Instead of having a servant carry her books, she carried all her things in a sack slung over her back like a robber’s loot, and she still had the oversized boots and gloves that made her look like a carefree storybook adventurer.

“What?”

“Roast me like you did poor Lord Guoncal,” said Bia.

“That was not intentional,” said Brin.

“Then I’m terrified to think of what you’ll say when you’re doing it on purpose,” said Bia.

A little annoyed, Brin said, “Is there a reason someone your age is here with us first years? You aren’t dressed like any of these other ladies, though maybe you’d fit in with the Mind Circle.”

Bia pantomimed gripping her chest as if shot by an arrow. “Oof. Alright, I got one for you. You look like you’re going to be super popular here.”

Brin glanced behind him. The laughing and jeering students were still going at it. “Ouch.” Oh, and there was Vitor, he was finishing getting the story from Guoncal and was now marching this way.

“I figured I should introduce myself,” said Bia. “Since we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, we might as well do it out in the open.”

“What?” asked Brin.

“What do you mean, ‘what?’ My parents want me to keep tabs on you. Don’t pretend Lumina didn’t ask you to keep an eye on me,” said Bia.

“Oh, right. Yeah, she did during the war, but she hasn’t said a word about you since I got back. All they want to talk about now is Vitor,” said Brin.

Bia laughed. “Oh, that’s right! My parents are the same way. And here he comes.”

They turned to face the approaching Vitor, who raised a finger at Brin. 

“Lord Mistaken, you had no cause to-–” Vitor tripped, out of nowhere, and on absolutely nothing. He stumbled for two steps, and broke his fall at the last second against Bia, one hand pressed against her breast.

He shot back, face red, “I’m sor–”

Bia tried to slap him, but with perfect reflexes, Vitor caught her palm with his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m… I’m sorry. For catching your hand and for… the other thing. By all means, you have every right to strike me and if you still want to, I won’t object,” said Vitor.

Bia shook her head and grinned a bit to the side. “Naw, forget about it.”

It was awful, just the worst situation. They played this for laughs all the time in every single anime, but now living through it, he couldn't find a single thing funny about it. Though the crowd around them clearly thought it was endlessly hilarious. For Bia and Vitor, it was obvious that they both would rather be anywhere else, and had no way to move past it without surrendering more dignity than they were willing to part with.

Brin knew his role here. He’d been escorting Bia, however briefly, and that brought certain duties onboard. He slid his hand into a pocket where he kept one of his nice new bullets and spread it out to cover his fist in glass.

Then he charged the glass as much as he could, and decked Vitor. He saw Vitor move to block--too slow. Brin got him right on the chin, and while it would’ve been nice to knock him flat, the way Vitor stumbled back a few steps was very satisfying. The sudden pain in his hand was less so. Brin had punched boulders with more give.

“You... you forget yourself, Lord Mistaken!” said Vitor.

“I never forget anything, Sir Vitor. I have a Skill for that,” said Brin. That elicited a delighted titter from the onlookers, who were apparently all still on his side. What was wrong with these people?

“I’ll have a duel for this insult,” said Vitor.

“I’ll be happy to oblige,” said Brin.

Vitor nodded at Bia. “My apologies again, Lady Guven. I have no excuses for my deportment, only regrets.”

“Your apologies are quite adequate,” said Bia, waving him away.

He left, but the conversation was still. Bia chewed on the inside of her lip, still bothered.

Brin sent Silent Voice to Hogg. “Alright, you have to tell me what’s going on with Vitor.”

Hogg’s response carried the sound of laughter. “See, I knew if I gave you a headstart you’d be the most popular kid by the end of the day. But you even beat that estimate. You haven’t even made it inside the building yet!”

“We’re going to have words about that move with Bedelia. But Vitor first.”

“He’s got a curse. [The Curse of the Waxing Moon: Vitor has a hundred percent increased Dexterity in combat. Vitor has a hundred percent decreased Dexterity outside of combat.] He wouldn’t even be able to walk around without an artifact. It’s the boots.”

Brin repeated the curse description back to Bia.

She nodded. “I guess that makes it a little better.”

“I’m not trying to make it better. He’s an ass.”

She smiled at that. Then she nodded towards his arm. “You broke your wrist.”

Brin sighed. “I know.”

He’d forgotten himself and punched as hard as he could, hoping that the glass on his hand would protect it from impact. His knuckles were fine, but the little bones in his wrist couldn’t handle the strain.

He adjusted the glass on his fist to bind his wrist in place and prevent it from sliding around while it healed, but sensed something was still wrong. It might’ve been [Recovery] showing its utility, but he could sense that his bones were not supposed to heal the way they were sitting right now. With his insane healing speed, that was actually a pretty big danger. He couldn’t afford to wait until after school, he needed to handle this now. But he also didn’t want to miss his first day.

He added another marble of glass to his glass brace, and then before he could second-guess himself, pushed a needle of glass straight into his wrist. It pushed the bone into the correct place. He added two more to hold it there. The little hesitation he’d felt went silent; it would heal properly now.

Bia nodded appreciatively. “That was hardcore.”

“Thanks,” Brin said, and was surprised at how quickly a simple compliment turned his mood around.

"Ok, so I have to ask. What's the deal with your servant?" asked Bia, pointing her thumb behind her to Bedelia who was still carrying Brin's bags.

"Oh, there's no deal! I serve his shadowyness, the great [Shadow Mage] Hogg forever and ever without pay and without pause," said Bedelia.

Brin shook his head. "You're still messing with me."

"Oh, no, not right now I'm not! But Hogg told me I have to if you ever order me to," said Bedelia.

"Give me a break."

"Very well! The other wrist, then? Oh, or have you ever broken a femur? I hear it's quite memorable!" said Bedelia.

Brin sighed. "Please turn over the books you are carrying into my possession in a manner compliant to regular human interaction. Then you are ordered to return with reasonable haste to the city house where you are to receive your next instructions from Jeeves."

Bedelia smiled wide and nodded. "See? That's all you had to say."

Bia was grinning between the two of them for the whole interaction, and as Bedelia handed Brin his books back, she said, "Yeah, I get it now."

"Then maybe you can explain it to me," said Brin.

As they walked, Brin realized that he and Bia would arrive at the base of the Tower much quicker than anyone else, and he didn't actually want that. He stopped and turned to her. "I'm being rude, only talking about myself. Where are you from, Lady Bia? And before that, how do you do?"

She shook her head, amused. "Sort of an obvious ploy to pump me for information, don't you think?"

"I feel like you got a lot of really good intel on me just now, but I have nothing on you," said Brin.

"Skill issue."

"You're definitely from Frenaria. I can say that with certainty." He nodded, sure of himself. "Prinnashian women are humble and kind."

She rolled her eyes. "My family has holdings south of Manabita, if you must know..."

He was sure he was getting the approved press release version of her family history, but it gave him an excuse to slow down and stay in the courtyard. 

After a while, a man appeared. He was short and sort of bookish-looking, and the way his glasses magnified his wide eyes made him look a bit clueless.

He was also one of the most terrifying people that Brin had ever seen in his life. Nothing much to look at, but when Brin used [Wyrdic Inspect] he was nearly overwhelmed by the tides of authority he had over everyone and everything.

The actual text of the Skill didn't leave room for doubt.

The Master

Archmage of Chaos

He didn't command them to approach or even speak at all, but still the courtyard went silent and the students came forward on their own.

Once they were all in earshot, he spoke, "Well, come inside then, all of you. I'll save further introductions for once you're out of the sun. Terribly warm day. Unusual for spring. Oh, but first, an item of business. There are a few unsavory elements present. They will be removed."

The Master raised his hand, and all of Brin's Mirror Men burst into flame. It was a pure and otherworldly flame that actually consumed his light and glass alike. Brin was only able to make each of his copies shout in agony for a split second before they were consumed completely, leaving nothing left, not even a smell.

The eyes of the previously happy and giggling students were now scared and pale. The poor [Gravity Mage] looked like she might not keep her feet after witnessing the tall sandy-haired boy who'd been listening to her babble was suddenly eliminated off this earth.

Brin sent Silent Voice to the Master. "Rude."

He only looked Brin's way for a split second, but it wasn't clear what emotion lay in those wide-boggled eyes.

The Master clapped. "Now that that's taken care of, welcome. From this moment forward, you are all considered mages of the Tower. The doors will open to you now."

The doors did, in fact, open to them under their own power. Brin didn't enter, however. He got a notification.

Alert! You have unlocked new Classes.

Please prepare for Class Selection.