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. Not 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 slight 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.

Author's note: Perhaps an awkward start, but here's the beginning of my take on the first half of the Cold Steel saga. Granted I have only played the first two games, but I have some knowledge of the others, and in any case this is something of an AU, as the summary says. Can't make any promises on update schedule, given how crazy my life gets, but since this story has been practically begging to be written ever since I say Cold Steel II's ending, I shall try to keep up.

A couple of important points to make. First, I have some issues with the sheer number of unwinnable battles and battles that seem like a win, but afterward aren't. A few I admit are justified (the first fight with Sara early on, Rean's duel with Viscount Arseid, and pretty much anything to do with McBurn), but the majority come across as arbitrary and forced at best. Rufus Albarea is the most egregious; good on his own? Sure, since he taught Jusis. Good enough to beat all of Class VII (bar Rean, who's busy elsewhere)? My suspension of disbelief snaps like a twig on that one. So expect some adjustments to a lot of those fights.

Second, my depiction of Class VII will be more willing to kill. There are times where the plot requires they try to take their opponents alive, but in most cases I find it too much of a stretch. They aren't bracers like Estelle Bright and friends, nor are they police, however elite, like Lloyd Bannings and company. They're military academy students, which entails a whole different mindset. For that matter, only Elliot and Emma are really equipped to go reliably non-lethal. So the bad guy body count is going to be higher.

Okay then. My excessively verbose notes aside, I hope this is at least an acceptable start. Until next time. ~D.S.