ONE: Strange New World
{Day 1, 1308}

Gah. Bright sun… Where now? Bedroom. Stone and timber. You're here? … Huh. White bedsheets, unusual mattress. Definitely got the unusual bit right.

Stained oak four-post bed, armoire opposite, window to left, door to far right, bare table between bed and door. Likely in a cylindrical building – a tower of sorts – that could be part of an ancient-style castle or similar structure (the same period as the armour, I believe).

Fun.

Just what I wanted: an ancient civilisation's abandoned settlement or nation – or, heck, even planet – that's been rebuilt by random crazies or wannabe pioneers or something. No, probably not that. You're jumping to conclusions. Look. Where? Around. Fine. Was going to do that anyway.

Throwing off the covers and getting up from his prone position on the bed, he realised that he had been stripped of his jacket, pants, underpants and boots (as well as his helmet), but his blue-tinged carbon-weave undershirt was still covering his torso. He began to move around the room, observing and examining what he could of it.

The lamp had an old-fashioned look to it, but didn't seem to use electricity or a wick like a candle. Moving closer for better examination, the armoire seemed to be handcrafted – the dowelling was noticeable and the design was suitably detailed yet simple – but the window panes provided a much clearer view than he thought was possible with handmade glass, even though it was a leadlight design. Overall, the room had a surprisingly homely and comfortable atmosphere despite its spartanly adorned stone walls, mundane wood flooring and standard-fare furniture.

Out the window, he could see nondescript green plains for a few kilometres that ended with a dense forest. Interesting. Mmm-hm…

He returned to the armoire and found it unlocked. The interior was bare, of course. Leaning against it, on the far side from the bed, was a tall mirror. He looked at his reflection and let his mouth curl in a small half-smile as he examined himself.

Two dark brown eyes – one centrally heterochromic with hazelunder slightly thick eyebrows, a straight-bridged snub nose between, a sharp-edged mouth above a slightly cleft chin on a strong jawline. You sound really weird doing this. I know, I know…

You'd be better off confirming you have 'angular features, dark heterochromic eyes and a snub nose under a shock of dark hair swept to the right'.

—~—

He was comparing the feel of the curtains to that of the carpet when he heard footsteps outside the door that came to a halt well before any other feet had. As he wondered at what would happen, the doorknob rattled and a mechanical lock was opened. Hurriedly, he pulled the sheets from the bed and swept them about him like a towel at the waist – more for the sake of whomever was entering than himself – as the door slowly opened and a figure much shorter than himself entered the room.

The figure wore a flowing grey cloak with deep hood over whatever clothes they were wearing, preventing him from seeing any details of their appearance beyond their smooth-skinned hands and slightly pointed chin. A small cry of surprise was accompanied by a hand raised to the mouth and a motion as if to reach for something – a weapon? – that clearly wasn't there. He put a small smile on his face as he tried to figure out what he should say, as well as if he were to speak at all.

The minor dilemma was solved by the cloaked figure turning 'round and exiting the room hastily, despite his exclaiming "Wait! Don't—" and extending his hand. Ignoring his cry, the billowing cloak and its wearer took their leave – almost slamming the door, if it weren't for something arresting its motion at the last second.

He sighed and sat down on the bed. Suddenly, he remembered that his mobiGlas was still attached to his left forearm. The unit was damaged – scarred and even dented – but it was mostly superficial harm and didn't affect how fast it activated. Booting up took all of six seconds, including a half-second showing the microTech logo and then a brief loading screen – simply a thin progress bar – before the home menu came into view on the holographic display with a flash of cool white and blue. His bionic eye ran through its connection sequences and confirmed synchronisation accurate to .00025 seconds.

Okay, what can this thing tell me about my surroundings?

Time based off of local noon. Figured.

Current atmospheric variables such as pressure, humidity and temperature (all within this room at the moment, of course). Hm. Could be useful.

Approximate level of functionality of wearer's various body parts and time since last consumption of nutrition. Beneficial, but not my surroundings. Just wanted to point it out. Mmn.

Basic information on people that have come in contact with itself since its wearer fell unconscious. Really? That's helpful. Especially since it can compare visual data from the bionic eye and the data it received upon contact to provide approximate matches. Very helpful, then.

Approximate location of objects/subjects of interest based off of RADAR/SODAR, infrared scanning and passive non-lethal emission of ultrahigh-frequency (x-ray to gamma) electromagnetic radiation. Generally accurate to 0.25 metres. Complex. And rather useful. It's like a mini-map. That's one way to think about it, I guess. Does that mean it appears on the HUD as such? Yeah. Though, you have to select it for it to be active. Okay. Anything else?

Mm-hm. Spectrometer. Accelerometer. Seismometer. Geiger counter. Inclinometer. Laser speedometer. Thermal imaging system. Photometer. A bunch of other -meters. I doubt I'll need more than half of the ones you listed. That's why I stopped listing them. Heh.

He shook his head to refocus on his surroundings as more sounds reached his ears. Subdued voices filtered through from behind the door. At least two, no more than five. Likely one female, others male. Presumably non-threats, with consideration of the previous encounter.

—~~~—

{Day 1, 0718}

"Hey, there, Vallière! Where's your familiar? Oh, that's right! Your Summon Servant spell didn't work. Just like every other spell you've tried, Zero."

"Shut it, harlot."

"Now, now! Don't be so mean, Zero! She's a much more skilful mage than you could ever be."

"Like you're one to talk, Miss Bed-Flooder."

"Miss Vallière! That is no way to talk to a fellow noble! Apologise to her, immediately."

"But, Professor—"

"I know, but you mustn't insult in return. Regarding that: Miss Montmorency, do not go riling up other students. And before you say anything, I know exactly what was said – as well as each speaker's intent. Now, apologise, both of you."

"I…apologise, Montmorency."

"… I apologise for my conduct as well, Vallière."

"Good… Louise? Can I have a word?"

"Y-Yes… Professor."

"Go on to breakfast, now, Miss Montmorency, Miss Zerbst."

"Yes, Professor…"

"Goodbye, Louise. Farewell, Professor."

"…"

"Ah, don't worry, Louise, this isn't about your troubles… I know the headmaster wished for this to be declared publicly at a later hour in the day, but I wanted to inform you ahead of time. Late last night, two guards at the end of their patrol found something unusual – rather, someone unusual."

"Someone? …What are you implying, Professor?"

"I saw, not too long after all of your fellow second-year students left with their familiars, a very large magic portal appear high in the air above the grounds of the day's summons. Out of it flew a great steel beast of unusual shape – though it must have been unconscious or injured, as it fell into the forest with a great crash."

"What? Ah– pardon my bluntness, but what? how? and why?"

"Mmn. I could hardly believe my eyes, but the workers had seen it themselves and almost panicked. Chef Marteau calmed them all down as I tried to contact the headmaster – I wanted to lead a search party to see it. Osmond declined the request, saying we should wait. Now, it appears waiting was the right thing to do: the person the guards encountered was wearing what looked like a suit for riding the beast, though he was rather wounded from the crash."

"Is…? Could he…?"

"I do not know what he could be, why he is here or how he got here for certain – but I have a few guesses… Come now, you must be off to breakfast."

"O-of course, Professor. Good day, Professor."

—~~~—

{Day 1, 1325}

The door slowly opened and three rather different people all in robes stepped in, standing in two lines – one in front of the others. None were the same as the first he met, he knew immediately.

The one in front was an elder man of average height with gnarled long-fingered hands and a large white beard complemented by even longer white hair. The purple-robed man to the left was a bit taller than the older one, with pianist's hands, a balding head, blue eyes and a sharp jaw that ended in a cleft chin. The woman standing to the right had long green hair, glasses that seemed fond of catching the light in front of brown eyes and a smooth jaw with slightly rounded chin point.

He stood up as they entered, hiding his mobiGlas from view within the folds of the blankets. With a brief moment of silence, the elder man – clearly the leader – attempted to speak to him. It was a familiar language, but one he hadn't heard in a long while. What is it…? French – a rather old variation. Really? Oh, yeah – I understand him. I guess learning a few European-origin languages was a good idea. Mmm-hm… He's repeated the same thing a few times. Yeah: 'Can you understand me?', 'Do you speak our language?' et cetera.

"Euh, hello." he said in their language, unintentionally cutting off the elder. "May I ask where I am?"

"So you do speak our tongue," the leftmost breathed. "Oh, pardon me."

"Mmm. You speak our language but do not know where you are? Interesting."

"I know my surroundings are not like any I have seen. When I jumped from Genesis, I expected to end up in Corel. Not…ah, wherever this is," he said, gesturing broadly about himself.

"This is the Tristain Academy of Magic in the Kingdom of Tristain," the wizened leader answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe. "…I have never heard of this 'Corel' before, unless you mean the land of Rub' al Khali?" Ah, the Empty Quarter. An old erg on the Arabian Peninsula. Really? Huh.

"No, I haven't heard of that place before."

There was a contemplative hum from both men. The woman spoke up then: "May we know your name, young man?"

"Jacob. Jacob Arken," he answered without hurry. "May I know yours?"

She paused a moment, glancing to the leader – who nodded briefly – before answering. "I am Miss Longueville."

"My name is Colbert."

"And I am known as Old Osmond. I must ask this: if you are not from the east, where, then are you from, Mister Arken?"

The young man raised a hand briefly in an apologetic gesture, saying, "Ah, I would prefer no honourifics for myself, sir – but, I believe you could say I am from further east than the Empty Quarter. A distance many month's travel, even by air."

"Interesting… "

—~~~—

{Day 1, 2201}

Jacob examined his undershirt. It was an ultralightweight carbon nanofibre weave sleeveless garment that had survived three crashes – four, now – and had survived each undamaged. It was rather strange, since it hadn't been touted as crash-proof; it wasn't even designed to be bullet- or stab-proof. It just so happened that the material was rather durable and was always underneath his flight suits – which had at least three-shot protection from medium-power small arms.

Funny how this is pretty much all I have, now. Of course, they'll happily provide me with other clothes, but this is the only thing that reminds me of where I'm from. That and your mobi. Mmh, yeah.

Longueville and Colbert had been the most interesting of the staff members to the nineteen-year-old pilot. The green-haired woman and balding professor were the only ones in the room that he was certain had recent combat experience (recent being relative, the fifty-something professor said he'd been teaching for nearly two decades and declared a dislike of war). Obviously, they were all capable in magic – it wouldn't make sense for teachers to not be skilled in what they were teaching – but the fire-inclined middle-aged man and the surprisingly youthful earth-aligned deputy head were quite physically fit as well. Colbert, specifically, had the eyes of someone who had seen some nasty things. They were a universal kind of gaze. Some eyes hide it better than others, like Colbert's and Uncle's, but it's still there.

Satisfied that the fabric needed no maintenance, Jacob slipped his undershirt on again and stepped clear of the bed. He had realised a few hours ago that his daily fitness regime was disrupted by the events of yesterday – but that had been during dinner, something he never interrupted out of habit, so he decided to wait until later to perform his exercise for the evening.

Without any further pause, he dropped into a push-up position and pumped out a score of diamond-pattern push-ups. It was then that he remembered his arms and legs were bionic – the entire limbs – and didn't need such exercise. Thusly, he adjusted his workout to accommodate that factor.

The young man adjusted his position so that his forearms rested on the floor and began executing a plank hold.

…forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight…

…one fifteen, one sixteen, one seventeen, one eighteen, one nineteen – hundred twenty. Jacob paused to rest after that, before moving to start butterfly crunches.

—~~—

As he lay in the bed provided for him, Jacob pondered a few things.

He had quickly realised he was unarmed. This was something to be remedied, although such would be difficult this early on. Obviously, few would understand why he wanted to be armed, especially while recovering, but the handful of days he had ever been without a weapon in the past three years had all been very bad days.

Also, he had realised that the Academy he was staying in would have healers – people that would have been either confused or scared about his limbs not being made of flesh. There were a few stories to make up about that. Tell them he knew an earth mage, thus the mechanical limbs, while he only knew spells that improved his own physical abilities – probably wind affinity. Or he could simply say that he wasn't from this world at all. Maybe I'll tell the headmaster the truth – but only the headmaster. I would suggest Professor Colbert and the deputy head as well. Mmh…

He wondered, as well, about what had brought him here, but figured the answer to that would come in its own time.


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A/N:

~ Criticisms are always welcome. Tell me if I'm doing this well, more than just a favourite and/or follow if you will.

~ This will be different from the canon storylines, seeing as Miss Vallière's summons didn't work quite the way anyone expected. One day can mean a lot.

~ I will try my best to be accurate/precise in calculations and comparisons, as well as in the estimations that will be doubtless necessary for this story. If, however, something is blatantly incorrect, send me a PM and I'll get it fixed as soon as I can.