Thors Officer School, ToCS1 Outside the Fairy Tale

Chapter 6 – Teaching, Training and other Trivialities

A/N: A transitory chapter. Sorry it took so long, but I'm not really good with those. Unfortunately, next chapter is another transitory one. I need to put characters and events into place before the plot can properly advance and before I set everything on fire.

Pain was the first thing to greet her in the morning. Backside, nose and muscles felt sore and there was even a swirling mix of numbness and itchiness growing like vines inside her. A sign of nerve damage. She hugged her warm pillow, pretending for a moment it was the firm, warm body of a dashing gentlemen keeping her company in bed.

But alas, delusions weren't supposed to last.

Sara reached with her hand inside her other pillow, the one she was laying on and drew out her pistol from inside the stuffing. Not exactly the most comfortable way to sleep, but a girl needed her protection.

She carried the firearm into the bath, glad that each room in the Class VII dormitory included its own shower. The scalding water running down her body only aggravated the bruises she got yesterday, but the heat also felt purifying in a way. Good thing colonel Beatrix had already treated the worst. Despite her physically active lifestyle, she took care about her appearance. How else would she ever attract herself a nice older hunk with an air of sophistication?

The fuchsia-haired woman gently prodded her nose, scowling as the pain became more intense. Curse the little imp, ramming her elbow straight against her face. She stopped the shower, the sudden silence oppressive. The sound of water droplets on the ground only emphasized the stillness.

Blaming little Fie - was that any way for a teacher, a mentor to even think? She felt her soaked, waist-length hair dragging her down, her bangs pressing against her eyelids.

No two ways about it. She fucked up. Royally.

She stepped out of the shower cabin, slipped into the fluffy bathrobe, one of the luxuries she allowed herself, and began to wring out her hair.

It was supposed to be easy. Nothing but routine. Show the kids how given mission parameters could change at the drop of a hat. Bracer examiners did it all the time. She just imitated what was done with her during her Junior Bracer days. If the kids didn't ace the underground test that much, she would have left them alone. She was hardly someone kicking others when they were down, but Victor Arseid, one dreamy man if she ever saw one, insisted she test their dedication. Sara very much agreed, but it seemed the new cadets were intent on exceeding expectations even on the first day.

That was, if this Class VII were to form in the first place. Most of them were fine, but Laura Arseid had to be carried out on a stretcher and Fie suffered a minor fainting spell. After Beatrix did her diagnosis, it was clear both girls pushed themselves beyond their limits, but the fight at the end really shouldn't have escalated beyond the point of no return.

A point where there was no other option but to take the opponent out of the game. Hard.

Using the signature weapon of that pesky Ouroboros Enforcer against a bunch of freshmen left a bad aftertaste in her mouth though. Sara still remembered the expression of the other cadets. Horror and paleness on the bookish girl. The display of violence probably scared her away from Thors in general. It was a shame considering her top marks, but really, even without the Field Studies the coursework here wasn't truly about academics.

The Heimdallr city boys took the situation better, if barely. Both were shocked and she could almost feel the resentment pouring out of Machias Regnitz. The others seemed merely confused, though both male nobles overcame their bewilderment quickly.

Bah, there was nothing to be done about the situation as long as she wallowed in doubts inside her own bathroom. She quickly tied her hair with a scrunchy while ignoring her damp locks and dressed properly in the instructor's uniform. As much as she loved to flaunt her disregard for military protocol, today wasn't the day to step on toes.

At least Neithardt didn't mind the heavy-handed approach. Training accidents happen, he said. She was frankly surprised at his blasé attitude, given that she beat a scion of House Arseid unconscious on the first day.

Sara took the direct route from the dormitory towards the campus, eschewing her routine visit to Micht's. First stop: the infirmary. She wanted to visit Fie and Laura, but the moment she entered Colonel Beatrix's sanctuary, the old woman called her over.

"Stop right there, young lady," the head physician at Thors said in her most authoritative voice. The woman was busy sorting her patient files, but her situational awareness was flawless as always. Sara froze mid-step. She may dislike the military's attitude in general and their old-boy-club-mentality in particular, but she would always listen to the colonel.

"Sorry for trying to waltz through without greeting. I wanted to visit my students as fast as possible. Well, more like would-be students, I guess."

Beatrix tutted. "This pessimism is unbecoming of you, Sara. Sit down, please. I need to have a look at your nose."

She slumped her shoulders in defeat. "Yes, ma'am."

Some prodding and questions later, the colonel cast a tear art. Seconds later, Sara felt how it became easier to breathe through her nose again. "Couldn't you have done this yesterday?"

"No, I couldn't. The tear art works through empowering the fluid inside the patient and is very good at closing wounds or at higher levels even replenishing lost tissue in a limited fashion. Your swollen nose is caused through an accumulation of fluid though, and overt casting runs the risk of sealing the excess where it doesn't belong surrounded by healed tissue. Water Healing Arts are terrible when it comes to removing pathological build-up. Casting it on cancer patients is about the stupidest thing one can do."

Sara squeezed her nose. It still hurt a little.

Beatrix smiled at her reaction. "I want the last bit to heal naturally. If the swelling completely disappears beforehand, I might speed up things again." She pushed up her glasses and folded her hands. "There's another thing I want to talk about. It concerns Fie."

Sara straightened herself immediately. "Lay it on me!"

"I think she has insomnia."

"She what?"

"Chronic lack of sleep."

This she didn't expect. "Colonel, she naps all the time."

"I'm aware. The girl regularly uses the infirmary to get some shut-eye, but this isn't true sleep."

Sara pinched the bridge of her nose. There was a prick of pain, but she ignored it. When it came to the health of soldiers or warriors, there was almost no better authority than Beatrix. She wasn't so foolish to dismiss her claims.

"So, what exactly is the problem?"

"Her insomnia will impede her studies for one. Now that Fie starts to attend Thors in an official capacity, she's going to be exposed to a lot of coursework and proper sleep is imperative, if she wants to retain the knowledge she will no doubt acquire."

"So sleeping is important if you want to memorize stuff?"

The physician nodded gravely. "Correct, though the impact on memory consolidation depends on the sleep cycle. The by far most important phase is REM-sleep, which is what Fie is lacking."

"Okay Beatrix, slow down a moment to let me catch up. What is this REM-sleep exactly?"

"The phase when dreams are at their most numerous and intense. And before you say something about dreamless sleep, it doesn't occur, ever, when someone enters REM. We only forget most of them the next morning."

"Dreams?" She swallowed. She then closed her eyes. "Nightmares." Sara bit her lip, while a clump of worry dropped down inside her stomach. The situation of the little Jaeger, it really mirrored her own past, down to the very ugly, sordid details. It was almost eerie, or was this what She Who Dwelled Above thought of as irony?

"What can we do?"

"We can use arts to induce sleep as a stop-gap measure."

Sara quirked an eyebrow. "Isn't church medicine a gentler approach?"

"It is. It also won't work properly, given her boosted metabolism. There's the option of customizing the sleep medicine to her... physiological condition, but Father Paulo at the Trista Chapel lacks the experience for such an undertaking."

Sara groaned. Stupid Jaeger Enhancements. Well, she had never used sleeping medicine, because copious amounts of alcohol served the same function. It was also much tastier. "And what's the long-term solution?"

Beatrix sighed. "She needs to come to terms with her inner demons. Usually, I would send someone with her problems to a therapist. Thors has several, but while they're familiar with soldiers, a Jaeger, especially one so young is outside their competence zone, I fear."

So that was her angle. "Beatrix, colonel, I'm not a shrink."

The old lady pierced her with a hard gaze. "But you are her guardian."

"This responsibility simply fell into my lap, you know, and what if I screw it up? My only real talent is fighting." She was babbling now, but she couldn't help herself.

Beatrix demeanor remained adamant. "Young lady, as an A-Rank Bracer I don't believe for a second that your only talent lies in fighting. As I said, pessimism doesn't become you. The same with self-recrimination."

Sara sighed. "You're aware that we have both lived inside the same flat for months and I didn't catch on anything?"

The colonel nodded sharply. She then closed her eyes and for a moment, the woman looked terribly old. It wasn't a change directly visible. Beatrix didn't develop wrinkles all of a sudden, but there was something about her posture, her eyes, which gave off the impression of ancient wisdom paired with ancient burdens. "Sara, are you aware of the hedgehog-paradox?"

"Eh, no. Some kind of medical theory?"

Beatrix shook her head. "Just an old parable that an old woman refuses to forget." She paused. "Imagine a group of hedgehogs during the winter, staying inside their warren. It's cold, so the animals try to huddle together to share body heat with each other. But as they draw nearer, they begin to hurt each other with their spikes. A constant trade-off between warmth and hurt."

Sara folded her arms and tilted her head. "And what is this parable supposed to say?"

"It of course describes human bonds. Just as the sharing of body heat during winter is crucial for the hedgehogs to survive, we human beings need each other to develop bonds to nurture our souls. And just with the hedgehogs, opening ourselves for bonds makes us susceptible to be hurt. Deeply, the closer we grow."

Beatrix folded her hands in her lap. "It's a difficult thing to accept. Some consider it a bleak kind of truth. But there's much one can learn, if this lesson is taken to heart. About the situation between you and Fie, perhaps living with each other so closely caused you to distance yourselves in your minds, because the sudden nearness was too much to bear. But now that you live in separate rooms inside Class VII's own dormitory, there is perhaps enough distance, so you can grow closer in a proper manner this time."

"I..." Sara stopped herself. "You've given me a butt-load to think about, colonel, but I promise: I'll try talking with Fie." She laughed weakly. "Why did someone like you chose to become a soldier anyway? You'd have made one hell of a Bracer, ma'am."

The old lady smiled sweetly. "The folly of youth, I guess. Besides, the Guild wasn't quite the kind of organization it's today, during my teenage years. But enough idle chatter. You should visit your students now."

Sara stood up and saluted. "Yeah, will do. Thanks for everything as always, Beatrix."

After her goodbye, she quickly went to Fie and Laura's room, only to find all members of the prospective Class VII gathered. Nine pairs of inquisitive gazes turned their attention towards her. Sara gulped. She should be used to it by now, doing this instructor shtick for a whole year, but these kids were her responsibility. And it was a responsibility on a whole different level than the classes she trained before. Beatrix was totally evil though, not warning her beforehand.

"Hello instructor," Laura said in her tranquil voice.

"Hello to you, too, Laura. I can call you Laura, right? I mean, after beating up each other that much, I think it's just proper to use first names."

The whole class looked at her with a mixture of bewilderment and wonder. Ha! That was a totally awesome Valestein-icebreaker. Sometimes she was so awesome, she scared herself.

"Thaaat is appropriate, I guess?" The Arseid heiress answered.

"Oh Sara, please stop talking."

The fuchsia-haired woman folded her arms. "Sorry Fie, but now that we are all here, there's something important we have to talk about."

Almost as one, the kids first looked and then nodded at each other. Then Rean Schwarzer stepped forward. "We have questions, instructor. Several in fact."

"Weeeell, after all the hoops you had to jump through yesterday, I guess I do owe you kids some answers. Shoot!"

"What's up with these ARCUS units, then?" Alisa Reinford asked. Guess she would be the one most curious about the tech.

"You are talking about the connection you felt with each other?"

All the kids nodded again, without a shred of hesitation. Interesting reaction. While some persons undoubtedly reached a higher rate of synchronization, the interplay between her cute, troubled junior and Laura came to mind, it was now clear all members in front of her experienced the special feature at least once. Their brilliant teamwork against the gargoyle implied as much, but this was hard confirmation in her mind.

"What you felt is the big selling point of the ARCUS tactical orbment. It's called a Combat Link. It allows you to anticipate each other's actions and tactics in real-time, as if you have been fighting alongside each other for years or even decades."

"Fascinating," Jusis Albarea retorted in a dry voice, "and utterly superfluous." Some of the cadets looked at him questioningly.

The second son of Duke Albarea shrugged. "Making individual soldiers fight as a single unit is an endeavor as old as the concept of a military itself. Standardized weaponry, unit drills, troop movement, tactical formations, uniforms, the building of a so-called corpsgeist. All of them measures to make human beings fight effectively in a group. All of them refined over centuries of Erebonian military history. I honestly don't see the appeal of using an expensive gadget as a short-cut to what I mentioned above."

Jusis then scoffed. "Besides, I tried to do Quartz Synchronization with these orbments, without success of course. But looking at all the Argem-processors along with the Goldia-circuit-motherboard, which seems to be cut from a single crystal, I estimate the sheer material cost of one ARCUS unit to be upwards of 250,000 to 300,000 Mira. Add in the manufacturing, research and labor cost, which can't be cheap, put them into retail, Reinford surely wants to make a profit, and I think the final prize is somewhere in the range of 600,000 to 700,000 Mira. I mean, the nobles are wasteful in their spending, but this is excessive, even for us. You could buy two armored cars or a single Dreizehn MkII Assault tank with this much money."

"Wait!" Elliot spoke up. "Are you saying all of us are carrying the equivalent of a whole tank company in our pockets right now?"

The Albarea heir chuckled. "More. Master Quartz don't come cheap either. They are derived from a Septium gem of at least 150 carat, post cutting. After Esmelas-processing to heighten Quartz compatibility, it puts each Master Quartz in the price range of another 150.000 to 200.000 Mira depending on the base Septium type."

"This is nuts," Fie said.

"To get the money for what I'm holding in my palm, my tribe would need to sell ten horses of excellent breeding," Gaius added calmly, while inspecting his ARCUS with awe.

"I guess if anyone understands the worth of processed Septium gems and crystals, it would be you," the Reinford heiress commented.

"Naturally. It's one of the key products of the Kreuzen Province."

Machias sneered, but didn't say anything.

"Well," Sara interrupted, "your estimate is pretty good, I'll give you that. These things are still in the prototype stage, but the final prize is projected to be around 750,000 Mira. But this is just a number. Despite your grandstanding speech, you don't understand the true worth of the Combat Link at all."

Jusis folded his arms. "Do tell."

The female bracer smirked. "All these traditional measures you just mentioned have one fatal flaw, you know? They sacrifice the individuality of a soldier. You said it yourself: standardized weapons load-out, standardized way of fighting. Which makes it predictable and inflexible, so different units with different weapon specializations are fielded to cover each others weaknesses and soon enough, the amount of soldiers on the battlefield gets bloated." She paused. "I think all of you already understand that this class is going to be heavy on combat training. Much heavier than your average Officer class. But different than usual military doctrine, I'm going to urge you to develop your individual fighting styles. Nobody in Class VII needs to give up their preferred weapon. On the contrary - I want you to differentiate yourself as much from each other as possible."

"That's very unconventional," Laura remarked.

"More like ludicrous," Jusis added. "Under normal circumstances."

"Except we have a short-cut," Rean piped up.

The Albarea heir sighed. "Your point has been made, instructor. It's still wasteful."

Sara shrugged. "I call it priceless, but hey, different strokes for different folks. Any other questions?"

Machias Regnitz stepped forward. "What is the exact content of Class VII's curriculum? To be frank, I have no interest in becoming some kind of outstanding warrior."

She made a throwaway gesture. "No biggie. You don't need to. The theme of Class VII is to turn you into problem-solvers, to make you work as a team despite your different backgrounds. And just like in the dungeon, solving problems requires much, much more than brute force. If you worry that academic teachings are going to be sacrificed for combat training, let me put them to rest: both are going to be punishingly hard."

Jusis nodded. "This sounds like a challenge. Good."

"And to throw in some further enticement, Class VII is considered an accelerated course. It lasts one year, but if you manage to survive it, it will count as if you already have two Thors years under your belt. It will also make you eligible for a third year at Thors and well, the Principal already explained the implications of that, didn't he?"

"This sounds more exclusive by the minute," Gaius commented.

"There's more," she continued. "Class VII has mandatory field studies. You're going to travel to different places all across Erebonia. Once there, your studies and training will be put to the test by tackling real problems which plagues each location. These problems will range from the mundane and trivial to the extraordinary."

Sara saw how several faces lit up after this declaration.

"Let me finish by saying that all of you performed admirably during yesterdays orienteering exercise. If you decide to take the plunge, I'm going to support you all the way. I also want to apologize for my heavy-handed approach during the last fight." She focused on Laura and Fie. "It was not my intention to beat both of you to this extent." She bowed.

"Please raise your head, instructor Valestein," Laura said. "It's clear to me that despite everything, you were still holding back. If anything, the fight yesterday showed me just how far I still have to go. For that, you have my thanks." The blue haired swordswoman closed her eyes. "I hereby join Class VII as a member. As someone walking the path of the sword, this course sounds like excellent training."

The fuchsia haired woman smiled. "We have our first candidate. Any more volunteers?"

Rean Schwarzer stepped forward next. "I told you all about my background yesterday. The separation between the social classes has been a problem for me for a very long time." He straightened himself. "I sincerely hope it won't hound me as much if I join this class."

"I still have my reservations about this course," the Albarea heir started, "but I guess the positives outweigh the negatives. I, Jusis Albarea, shall become part of Class VII."

Machias scoffed. He then blanketed his face and stepped forward, too. "My reason for attending Thors is because I want to study Erebonian society, and despite the less palatable parts of the course," he glared at Jusis, "the mixed class system as well as the field studies fit my objective more than perfectly. Count me in."

This was going better than she hoped.

"Monitoring the ARCUS system is almost reason enough for me to be a part here," Alisa said. "Learning about military culture is just another bonus. The army is Reinford's best customer."

"I came to study in the Empire because of the goodwill of its people," Gaius mused. "Right now, this nation is willing to extend even more of its goodwill towards me. This is an honor, but also a responsibility. I'm interested to learn why I of all people deserve this privilege, but according to my tribal customs, rejecting such a great gift is an affront of the highest order, for it implies that the gift bearer has poor sense." He straightened himself. "I will not see Erebonia's continued goodwill wasted."

Sara honestly didn't expect such eloquence from the foreigner. Showed what she knew. She clapped her hands. "Nicely said."

Elliot was next. "I decided to attend Thors to broaden my horizon and learn more about the wider world. This course seems perfect for this, although I fear I won't measure up to the high standards. But all of you people seem really nice and if this class is truly about teamwork, I want to give it a try."

Emma Millstein stepped forward, despite not being part of the conversation until now. "You all know I became part of Thors in the first place due to a scholarship. To be honest, my reason for being here is pretty mundane: I want to become part of the army to financially support my family. If this institution sees it fit to put me in an accelerated course, who am I to refuse?"

The fuchsia haired woman quirked an eyebrow. She didn't expect this. If anyone was going to refuse to become part of Class VII, it would be this girl. She saw the other kids offer her sympathetic words and gestures and if she didn't know about the particulars of her dossier, she would probably be among them. Interestingly enough, both Rean and Jusis watched her guardedly. It wasn't quite open suspicion they showed, but they seemed at least skeptical.

Were they simply sharp or did their life experience taught them not to take things at face value? Nah, probably both.

Of course, there was still one last person who hadn't spoken up. "Okay Fie. What about you?"

The little Ex-Jaeger tilted her head. "Do you think we can be as fun as that other group?"

The other cadets looked at her questioningly. Sara inhaled deeply. "That depends in part on you, Fie. This is one advantage of taking life in your own hands. You get a say in making the world the way it is."

The girl stared at her intently. "Sounds like a pain," she finally muttered. Then, she looked each and every member of Class VII in the eye, her gaze resting the longest on Laura. Finally, a tiny smirk hushed across her lips. "But this class needs at least one member who knows what she's doing. I'm in."

So all nine candidates decided to participate. What an unexpected outcome. The bracer and now instructor of Class VII folded her hands behind her back. "In this case, I declare the inauguration of Class VII complete. Welcome on board, kids. I promise you it'll be a wild ride."

"Hello, this is the outer office of the Reinford Group's CEO." The playful voice resounded through her ARCUS speaker. "My name is Sharon Krueger. How may I serve you, Lady Alisa?"

The Reinford Heiress pinched the bridge of her nose. "How do you know I'm the one calling? This is the first time I've used the ARCUS for something like this."

"Oh, this is a question easily answered, my Lady. My overflowing love for the Reinford family alerts me when one of you seek contact. A resonance of the heart so to speak."

"The ARCUS probably has a unique call signature," Alisa grumbled, "and knowing you, you have them all memorized." She exhaled. "No matter, Sharon. Redirect me to mother, please."

"I reckon this isn't a purely social call?"

"Tell her it's all business," Alisa spat. "That should get her attention. And please, make sure the line is absolutely secure."

"At once, my Lady."

The blonde waited about two minutes for the connection. She thought it would take longer.

"It's not everyday you ask for a secured line, Alisa. Seems like military culture has at least made you security conscious. What do you want?"

Alisa narrowed her eyes. No greeting, no pleasantries, straight to the point. She expected no less, but it still hurt - like always. She breathed in and braced herself. Two could play the game. "How has the Reinford Group got itself an Artifact?"

A pause.

"Is there any basis to your allegation?"

"Stop playing games, mother." Her voice was so cold, she surprised herself. "Instructor Valestein told us about the ARCUS functionality and I took a peek at the circuity. Pure Argem processors without a whiff of silicon. I can put two and two together."

A chuckle. "The Imperial Family did us a favor. They granted the Reinford Group a wondrous little communication device with several powerful abilities. On the surface, it was simply a handheld phone which could piggyback on any kind of orbal communication wave. It couldn't be jammed nor tapped. It was a lucky break really, when a second device of that nature came into the vicinity of our labs. It was then we discovered its short range capabilities."

"The Combat Link."

"That's how I pitched it to the military, but you should be aware that the sharing of mind and perception can be used for more than physical violence."

She thought about Laura and Fie. "What about sharing emotions?"

Another pause. "The Research Division didn't report anything of that nature. Then again, none of the developers engaged in any kind of serious fighting. Reading the action reports from Class VII will be very enlightening," she mused. "You did decide to join, didn't you?"

Now that she mentioned it, a certain black haired youth came to mind. "Yes I did. Were you responsible for the selection process?"

"Only by the barest of association. I relegated it to the 4th Division, whose orbal-physiologists worked up an aptitude estimate for the ARCUS units. Interestingly enough, Prince Olivert rebuffed the aptitude ranking and cited respectable scientific papers to prove some of the researchers at the 4th Division were biased with their calculations. It caused quite a stir."

Alisa's breathing hitched. "Wait, are you talking about the 'Debaucherous Prince'? He's involved with Class VII?"

"Yes."

An uncomfortable pause fell between them. When it was clear that no answer was forthcoming, she rubbed her eyes. "Whatever. So the Reinford Group reverse engineering an Artifact, it's all considered above-board?"

"Yes. The royal families in Zemuria have certain privileges when it comes to handling them. Utilizing an Artifact illegally carries heavy repercussions. Heavier than even you think. I would ask you not to share this information freely."

"That goes without saying." She frowned. "Did you use the capabilities of the Artifact as a bargaining chip? You know, for wrestling the blueprint of tactical orbments from the Epstein Foundation?"

"I did. The negotiations were some of the most difficult in my entire career." Alisa raised her eyebrow at the admission. "The Epstein Foundation is known for being extremely eager about any kind of innovation in the field of communications. Despite that, they didn't provide the entire functionality."

"No quartz synchronization."

"Correct, though some of the brightest minds at the RIT are doing their best to add this to Reinford's portfolio. Now if that's all..."

Alisa rolled her eyes. "In other words, progress is almost non-existent."

Another pause. "It seems the time you spent with your former boyfriend did you some good. While you've never hesitated to speak your mind, you do so now with keen insight. A piece of advice though: you may have finally learned to make others take you seriously, but during negotiations, this isn't always the best course of action. Sometimes it pays to make your opponent underestimate you instead of rousing their wariness from the get-go. Have a nice day."

The line disconnected.

"Love you, too," she murmured bitterly.

Rean fell face first into the mud. His muscles were screaming and his lungs burning. He didn't go this hard with his training even when learning under master Ka-Fai. He tried to prop himself up, his hands sinking into the soft ground. For a moment, he had the queasy impression of directly pressing against, well, shit.

The black-haired youth did his best to dismiss the feeling as he rose up on shaking legs, his drenched combat fatigues rubbing uncomfortably against his clammy skin. He felt a shiver run down his spine. He dashed to the side, rolled forward and slid into the cover of an ancient oak, all in one motion, with the boom of a gun and subsequent bullet impact nipping close at his heel.

If this was what the Sara Special Exercise No.1 entailed, he shuddered to think of the subsequent numbers, given that strange second year's reaction. The second day after their entrance ceremony turned out to be rainy. It was a steady, cold downpour which would caution any sane individual to stay indoors as much as possible.

Unfortunately, Sara Valestein's training methods stood out for their utter lack of sanity. Whether this was reflective of the woman's state of mind was still up for debate, but Rean couldn't be bothered to brood over this profound question right now. He had a forest to traverse.

At least the woman was nice enough to adjust the difficulty of their morning exercise according to their physical fighting capabilities. Elliot and Emma were allowed to jog the 100 selge distance along the well-trodden forest trail, the rain being their only obstacle. Alisa, Jusis, Gaius and Machias were told to run through the untamed part of Trista Woods in a straight line, with the underbrush, the uneven ground, upturned roots, low hanging branches and even an occasional gorge included.

Laura, Fie and him got the special treatment though, for they had to conquer this natural obstacle course while the instructor was shooting at them - with stun bullets. The swordsman wiped his forehead with the back of his dirty hand, the moisture an uneasy mixture of sludge, sweat and rainwater. He looked at his ARCUS and swore. Only about four minutes left. And his orbment was of course completely devoid of any quartz. No casting or attunement allowed and just to add insult to injury, the so-called top melee fighters of Class VII had to work under a time-limit. He had already been hit once and the stun effect paralyzed him for about thirty seconds.

Rean wasn't sure how he got the dubious honor of being included alongside the other two formidable females. When the instructor wiped the floor with their whole class, he hardly put up a fight at all. This was in stark contrast to Fie and Laura who went almost toe-on-toe with Sara Valestein, which according to the second year Crow, was absolutely unprecedented since the fuchsia-haired woman started to teach.

He could read between the lines well enough to realize that the fight at the exit of the Ancient Ruin was out of the ordinary. Especially compared to what Crow dubbed 'Sara's Special Introductory Curbstomb'. Fie was clearly some kind of protégé in regards to the instructor. She called her by her given name unabashedly and given their close-quarter exchange, they were both familiar with each others fighting style. Besides, their ferocity in combat was strikingly similar and belied their respective apathetic and flippant attitude. And Laura, well, she performed as expected from a follower of the most prestigious sword style in the Empire.

The black-haired swordsman breathed in deeply. He needed to approach the exercise differently. Until now, he simply let himself be herded from one cover into the next. His wariness of the instructor's bullets even made him crawl entire distances on all fours. It was fundamental cover traversal, just like he learned during boot at Baldurs.

It was also too slow.

His biggest problem was that he had no clue where the shots came from. The woman hounded them incessantly, always taking care to vary the trajectories of her shots. He grimaced. Perhaps this was another reason to bully them during rainfall? It made detecting her more difficult, though she certainly didn't seem to have any difficulty tracking him and the others in return.

Whatever she wanted them to learn, the conventional approach used by conventional soldiers wasn't going to work. However, the woman never claimed to be military in the first place, did she? Rean sat down on the ground in the lotus position, both hands resting lightly on his knees. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes and when he exhaled, his mind opened.

The cacophony of falling raindrops, their differing beat of drip-drop resounding in his mind. The distinct smell of moist wood, the astringency of blooming herbs. Every little sensation was meaningful, a window for his senses to come into contact with reality. Ki was suffusing his spiritual core, the energy far more potent than when he did the same meditating technique just before the entrance ceremony. When he circulated the boon he collected from the Dragon Stream, it was like trying to stem a deluge with a mere sponge.

Of course, keeping the mass of Ki away from his heart made everything even more difficult.

Burning coals congealed inside his extremities. The pain seemed to be a solid substance threatening to burst out at several places: left hand, right ulna, right patella, the center of the musculus latissimus dorsi, left quadrizeps... he bit down a scream, forcing himself to continue his circulation. The surplus of Ki needed to disperse, before he crippled himself permanently.

Several agonizing seconds later, the solid pieces of coal started to shrink, the searing sensation becoming more bearable. It was the second time he overdid it with his Ki-channeling. Master Yun would be disappointed. When he extended his senses again, everything he perceived shifted into sharp relief. At least he was successful.

Rean started to run again.

An obstacle course. This is where he went wrong. Master Ka-Fai taught him to live with nature, to gradually lower the barrier between himself and the outer world. There were no obstacles. Only parts of reality his feeble mind classified as such.

He went out into the open, his footing as sure as if he was running on flat ground, jumping from log after log with consecutive leaps, raising his speed gradually, but surely. The imperceptible sound of boots on hardwood, a disturbance in the air so slight, it was merely the ghost of a touch. Rean careened to the right side, a bullet missing his left ear, the sound of hissing air warning him how close he dodged. Next moment, he grabbed a low hanging branch mid-jump with both hands and vaulted himself into the treeline.

He continued to run along the branches, the foliage serving to obscure his movements. As he dashed from tree to tree, his sense of balance reached new heights, for he kept his footing even on the slippery wood. Another shot rang out, but it missed its mark widely. Seconds later, he overtook Laura who was struggling below and after the third bullet whizzed impotently past him, it was smooth sailing the rest of the way

When Rean finally reached their gathering point, he didn't feel winded at all. All he did was running the way his body told him to, tracing the optimal path perceived by his heightened senses. He stopped, his body still brimming with Ki. The swordsman exhaled deeply, directing his breath outwards from the base of his stomach. At the same time, the dispersing energy flowed out through his extremities, sending tingling needles of pain along the way.

"The latter part of your run was pretty neat."

He focused his eyes and found himself gazing straight into green tinted yellow. Of course she'd be the first to reach the goal. Rean opened his empty ARCUS.

"Two minutes late. Damn."

The silver-haired girl tilted her head. "Most cadets collapse when running Sara's gauntlet for the first time. And that's with predictable barriers inside the combat gym."

The black-haired youth arched an eyebrow. "Are they also getting shot at?"

"Depends on their combat experience." Her voice even more deadpan than her usual cadence.

He chuckled. "Good to know our treatment isn't that special then."

"You are strange. Most people complain about Sara's exercises."

"I don't hear you complaining."

"I'm used to it." She looked away, her bored expression plastered across her face like a mask.

"Which is pretty remarkable." Rean scratched his cheek. "Would you mind telling me how you got this strong? I mean, almost everybody explained their background inside the old schoolhouse, well, except you."

She tilted her head again. "Can't you do your guessing thing?"

"My what?"

"When you figure out stuff from little hints."

"Ah, deduction. Well, in your case, I can't really pin it down." He shrugged. "I'm not exactly all-knowing."

"Okay. So Crow is better with this deduction thing. Good to know."

"Wait, the second-year? He picked up on your background?"

"Ja. He figured it out immediately. My weapons gave me away."

"That would explain it." He shrugged. "I'm not knowledgeable with guns beyond the bare basics."

She hummed. "So it doesn't allow you to pull up insight from empty air, huh?"

Rean chuckled. "Not really." He stroked his chin. "Deduction is like climbing or scaling a cliff. It's about finding a chain of solid footholds which aren't too far from each other, but which also leads towards the direction you want to go. Sometimes a foothold might look comfortable, but the following steps lead to a dead-end or away from the direction you wanted to go in the first place. Sometimes, the footholds circle around. If you lack knowledge or information though, the cliff ends up a sheer surface without any access."

"So these hints you use to form your... deductions are like mental footholds? And them not being too far away mean they kinda have to follow each other?"

"Exactly, they have to follow each other logically."

She nodded to herself. "Neat. Thanks for the explanation."

He scratched his cheek. "I didn't do much."

Her usual deadpan stare became piercing. "You really like to say that, don't you?"

Before he could answer, Laura also joined them. Rean had to admit, even with mud caking her limbs and soggy training clothes, she cut an impressive figure. Her expression on the other hand could only be described as outraged.

"I swear to the goddess, if she hits me with her infernal bullets one more time, I'm going to demand satisfaction!"

"Don't. You don't stand a chance against her alone."

The Arseid swordswoman sighed when she heard Fie's warning. "I'm aware she's a foe well beyond me." She reached for her ponytail to wring it out, but stopped midway as she realized with disgust how she was smearing mud all over her ultramarine locks. "But her crafts are so unreasonably overwhelming and even now, I don't have the first clue what the nature of her abilities are."

"Lightning", Fie answered.

"Electricity", Rean spoke at the same time.

Laura watched them with confusion.

"I'm pretty sure Sara's abilities are based on lightning", the silver-haired girl insisted.

Rean scratched his head. "Well, you aren't wrong. Lightning is a form of electricity."

"Oh."

Laura folded her arms. "I recall having heard the term during class, but I don't remember details."

The black haired youth splayed his hands, palms open. "It's considered a fringe science. It was Emma who came up with the idea when we were discussing the last fight. Both of you were in the infirmary at the time. I only know electrical currents can disrupt a body's entire motor function, because our nerves use bio-electricity."

The blue-haired beauty nodded, eyes round with rapt attention. "I see. If electricity is akin to lightning it would also explain why metal is no protection. Never step out in armor during a thunderstorm." She nodded, the gesture full of gallantry. "Thank you for telling me this."

"There's no reason to thank me. I didn't..." he then caught Fie's sarcastically quirked eyebrow. He coughed slightly. "Right, you are welcome."

"Say, Rean, could you teach me more about this electricity stuff?" Fie asked.

"As I said, I don't know much about it. I think you should ask Emma. Or you could speak with our science instructor."

The petite girl tilted her head. "Good idea. Will do."

"And I'm right beside you," Laura added.

Rean felt his brows rising. "Are you so eager for payback?"

Both beauties turned their heads at the same time, their gazes burning with silent flames. "Yes!" They answered in an impressive display of synchronicity, worthy of any ARCUS Link.

After a shower and a change of clothes in the barracks, Emma Millstein finally felt like a human being again.

She couldn't remember running a distance this long, ever, without interruption or breaks. When she changed her shoes, she just knew there would be blisters on both her feet later.

Grandmother's so-called reconnaissance mission was slowly turning into a mess.

Become a student at the Thors academy, she said. It's a nice place where she could get a feel for the outside world, she said. It's the perfect opportunity to make some friends her own age, she said. Until now, Emma had never given much thought to the rumors that grandmother was an ancient existence. It was so easy to forget, given the form she chose to present herself, but this Thors institution didn't match her stories in the slightest. The ever present alertness and vigilance which hung around the place like sticky mist, the crackling energy of easily unleashed violence permeating the air. The moment she set foot onto its grounds, she felt like a foreign entity trespassing into an alien environment.

Emma wasn't a stranger to the spiritual sensation of violence or blood-lust. The Isthmia Great Forest was a breeding ground for monsters of all kind, ready to tear into any hapless wanderer with abandon. But the violence of monsters was instinctual and base, tied to simple behavioral cues. Not so the focused intent of human beings brimming with intelligence and cunning, ready to hurt and kill their fellow men and doing so of their own free will.

The principal's entrance speech had set off her alarms, especially the little tidbit about Thors changing from a military academy to an officer school. She was aware of both designations beforehand, but hadn't paid it much mind as both terms seemed mired in military terminology.

She knew better now, after being thrown into the proverbial lion's pit, fighting through it and getting beaten down at the end by the female instructor. It was a stark introduction to the Empire's vaunted martial culture, which she had only read about in books until now.

The moment she chose to brave on though, becoming part of this experimental class, her situation had turned truly dire as the causality lines shifted. Since yesterday, the mist of alertness had turned into a cloying cloud of paranoia.

And it was all directed towards her.

The implications were clear: she was being watched, closely.

Emma cursed her own ignorance. Seeing causality lines was all well, but it didn't allow her to pierce the intent behind the chains of reason. She needed to ask the correct questions inside her mind, but right now, she lacked the experience to formulate them. She had read half a dozen books on military topics, but it was all theory. Even now, she lacked an understanding of the social dynamics, of how members of the military actually behaved, individually or in a group. The witch could make a few educated guesses of course. Clearly, the beatdown at the end of the ruin was akin to a baptism of fire, a brutal measure to test their resolve and weed out the unready.

They expected her to be cowed.

And then there was the ruin itself, the goal of her little expedition, but she didn't expect the Erebonian Military to have made inroads into the deeper functions of the Trial Ground. She couldn't read much from the place. It was a nexus of the Gnome Clan after all, but it was clear the researchers already possessed partial control of the Variable Space Feature, the unique property of Gnome buildings to morph its internal architectonic space according to the owners wants and needs.

She would love to have another look, though doing so would doom her mission and probably even endanger her live. Hidden guards patrolling the old schoolhouse, marksmen ready to put a bullet into any trespasser from a range which challenged even witch magic. It was frightening how far orbal technology had come, how the distance between magic and the empowerment of arts had shrunk.

Right now, she was stuck. The only option was to keep an eye on the place from a safe distance.

Emma hobbled into Class VII's classroom, choosing a seat at the front row, for she simply didn't want to go another step. A quick healing spell would solve the issue immediately, but she didn't dare use her powers as long as she was subject to such scrutiny. Moments later, both Instructor Valestein and Major Neithardt entered, though she watched in wonder how the military officer took a seat beside her like he was just another cadet.

Right. The dual instructor system. In a way, the man was as much of a student as any other member of Class VII. It was an interesting approach and Emma could certainly see the advantages.

"So, cadets, after this refreshing morning exercise, it's time we tackle the second major part of the special combat class by yours truly." She winked. "It can be summarized as an introduction to the art of Monster Slaying."

Icy silence greeted her announcement.

"This does it," Jusis Albarea said, his cultured voice a mix between exasperation and frustration. "What kind of absurd curriculum is this? First we are herded out into open rain and forced to run straight through the wilderness like barbarians and now we are supposed to learn some anachronistic killing methods for a task which is perfectly handled by the military?"

The instructor rolled her eyes. "Perfectly handled by the military, huh? This is a good one." She bent slightly forward, both hands pressing against the lectern. "Well, I could explain the rationale behind the whole horseplay I planned, but in this case, I ask you to simply trust me. I'm teaching all of you so when you face me next time, I won't wipe the floor with this whole class by my lonesome - again. I've already taught here for a year and the stuffy military officers still haven't thrown me out." She threw the noble a gimlet eye. "Even the ones belonging to the Provincial Armies. This has to count for something, doesn't it?"

She literally saw the noble bite down a remark. It was probably sarcastic in nature. "I guess so."

Instructor Sara beamed. "Good, good. Then let's start with the lesson. We are burning daylight!"

Monster taxonomy, morphology and behavior. Breeding cycles, mutation theory, tracking, ecology, anatomical and arts weaknesses. Traps and lures, gigantism phenomenon, Septium based contact poisons and caustic oils for weapon coatings. As the female instructor bulldozed through the topic, giving a short summary about each different aspect of monster slaying, Emma realized that calling this occupation an 'art' wasn't an exaggeration.

She took notes, though her action was mere pretense. As the witch continued to listen, she got the impression that whoever created the discipline of Monster Slaying had it down to a science.

"Ah, our wunderkind has a question." The fuchsia-haired woman stopped her torrent of words. "Yes, Rean?"

The black-haired youth gave the instructor a half-lidded stare. "I don't think I qualify in any way, shape or form as a wunderkind." He cleared his throat and Emma could almost taste the conclusion he arrived at. "Well, instructor, you wouldn't happen to be a former Bracer, would you?"

Another pause, followed by Sara Valestein gesticulating wildly, her expression... pouty? "Could you please stop figuring everything out left and right? I totally wanted to play the role of the mysterious and mature teacher and now you've ruined it."

What a peculiar reaction. Given how the rest of the class looked at her as if she just grew a second head, it was probably another of the woman's many quirks on display. Somehow, Emma couldn't shake the impression that grandmother would get along swimmingly with the eccentric instructor. Major Neithardt simply palmed his face. "I have no words," the military officer murmured, eyes fixed towards the ceiling as if in desperate prayer.

"Another point for you, Schwarzer," Jusis noted with cold amusement. "And it certainly explains a few things. Care to enlighten us how you deduced this one?"

Rean shrugged. "There wasn't much to deduce. I just happen to know details about the Bracer Guild's inception history from my electives."

"I see," Major Neithardt mused. "So they also originated from Monster Slayer Guilds like some of today's Jaeger Corps?"

"Exactly. Monster Slayer Guilds before the Orbal Revolution came in roughly two flavors: the guilds intent on hunting down the biggest and most dangerous specimens, partly for the Sepith and partly to earn glory. Sometimes their actions helped the populace, sometimes it made things worse. Then there were the guilds whose credo was maintaining the balance between the populations of monsters, animals and humans. It was a collaboration of those guilds to which the late Professor Epstein reached out with a business proposal."

"Is this why Bracers have exclusive access to Epstein made tactical orbments?" Machias asked.

Rean nodded, taking charge of the discussion as if he was the one teaching. "Yeah, but this is just the tip of the iceberg. Professor Epstein anticipated several consequences of the technological shift, among them that a nation's military equipped with orbal weaponry could take care of most of their monster problems themselves."

Laura's face lit up. "Monster Slaying was a doomed profession in the long run."

"Yes. So in exchange for making civilians their top priority, Professor Epstein directed the benign Monster Slayer Guilds to the one avenue where their skills and experience would stay priceless even after orbal technology became a mainstay: clearing out septium mines."

Jusis nodded, expression intrigued. "In wake of the revolution, septium mines became strategic epicenters for every nation. They're also the one place which was sure to attract strong monsters, but doesn't tolerate the usage of heavy weaponry or explosives."

The rest of the class took some moments to digest this particular piece of information.

The black-haired youth stroked his chin. "Today, the Bracer Guild has contracts with most owners of septium mines all across Zemuria. Of course, those owners happen to be governments most of the time. In exchange for clearing out monsters periodically, they get a small percentage of the mine's revenue. It adds up to quite a lot."

Elliot's mouth was hanging open. "No kidding. I always wondered how the Guild could afford to help every civilians in need, no matter rich or poor."

Machias pushed up his glasses. "The source of the guild's income is far more extravagant than I could have imagined. In a way they control the flow of the most critical resource powering today's technological progress." He paused. "It would also explain why the Guild's political influence in the Empire has always been considered weak, compared to other nations. We don't have any septium mines inside our territory, well, until recently at least."

"Thank you for this enlightening discussion, Cadet Schwarzer," Major Neithardt spoke up. "I might have underestimated history as a subject." He suddenly grimaced. "Though I would welcome it, if you don't relay these words to instructor Thomas, First Lieutenant Valestein."

The fuchsia-haired woman wore a teasing smirk. "Major, is this the correct way to beg, rubbing that military title in my face?"

The straight-laced officer became flustered. "This wasn't my intent. Really!"

"I have my first lesson with Instructor Thomas tomorrow," Rean piped up. "Should I be worried?"

"Yes!" Both instructors answered in unison, their dry voices a surprising match.

Emma tuned out the ensuing squabble. She could have participated in the discussion about the Bracer Guild's history. Her trove of book-knowledge and grasp on causality lines provided her most of the answers the rest of Class VII came up with, but she couldn't help but feel like she was cheating. The Witch looked at the other bespectacled cadet. The moment their class was formed, Machias Regnitz was quick to confront her with their entrance test results. The green haired youth seemed to take it as a personal insult that she had managed to score above him. Or was he simply competitive? Emma wasn't sure either way, but when he told her how he was going to give his best to surpass her top score, all she could think about was the futility of his future hard work.

And she was forbidden to tell him.

Increased speed of thought, intuitive understanding of causation, faster reading speed, improved memory retention. They were mere side-effects of her Hexen-Training, but when it came to learning facts, she was in a league of her own, her connection to her Inner Mirage a constant boost to her cognizance. She sighed. Perhaps next time, she should make some deliberate mistakes during an exam. As long as her scores were high enough to ensure her stay at Thors, there was no need to shoot for the maximum.

But all the book-knowledge in the world won't allow you to perceive the true nature of things.

Vita's words echoed inside her, that striking voice imprinting on her mind without fail. Emotions welled up as she thought about the woman who was her sister in all but blood. The woman's teasing smile, her gentle ridicule to spur Emma into action, to coax her out of the tome filled study and make her spread her wings.

There's a point where you need to abandon your books, Emma. Reading only allows you to learn how other people think. It won't teach you to think for yourself.

Now, more than ever, she was unsure how to proceed. Unlike Vita, who was sure to pave her own road through life, she flailed and tumbled like a newborn chick. Still, she had a duty and a desire to fulfill. Therefore, she needed to take matters into her own hands. A Witch's Wisdom could pierce the fog of uncertainty if utilized correctly, but it couldn't give her revelations from nothing. She needed at least a cursory understanding of the subject at hand, something she lacked when it came to practical military matters.

Perhaps patience was key. Further lessons at Thors could close her gap in knowledge in time for her to formulate a plan for the Gnome Ruin - or she could speed up the process by asking her fellow cadets. Most of them seemed pretty comfortable with the curriculum and all of them seemed very smart in their own way. Given that they didn't grew up in isolation like her, there was a lot she could learn.

So in the end, the solution was to make friends like grandmother suggested? Emma felt her anxiety growing, but perhaps just for once, she should simply rush ahead?

Things couldn't go more wrong, right?

Rean stood in front of the massive oak door, his gaze glued to the golden placard framed by horned lions. Finding Towa on campus proved to be exceedingly easy. A little questioning revealed her to be the cadet chairwoman of Thors.

He knew enough about the persisting dominance of the nobility to understand that Towa could only achieve such a position under extraordinary circumstances. Student council president at Baldurs was one thing, but this was pretty much a fast-track to qualify as a third year at Thors. And after that? The Imperial General Staff Office. Rean knew she was an amazing person, but did she really want to make a lasting career in the military, what with her attitude towards war? After her tenure at Baldurs she could've gotten any job she wanted in the civilian sector. Her credentials, referrals and marks were completely through the roof, but she instead opted to enter a place teeming with legalized violence.

Him becoming an obedient little soldier was making the best out of his condition, a way to curb and channel his urges towards a profession he could barely accept on moral grounds. But for Towa the whole world was an oyster.

So why did she attend Thors and just how much had this place changed her?

He braced himself mentally and knocked, his body tensed like a bow. Seconds later, when no answer was forthcoming, he literally felt himself deflate.

"Excuse me." He entered.

The committee room was richly furnished. Earthly colors dominated the interior along with a surprising amount of decorative plants. Rean saw three work desks, but only one of them was piled with several stacks of documents. He soon found himself confronted with a very familiar sight.

Some things never changed, huh?

Towa Herschel was sleeping, her arms resting on the desk with her head proffered above. Rean felt the nostalgia welling up inside him. He smiled. For a moment, he considered simply watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful and there was something almost magical in the air. On the other hand, she did tell him several times that it was totally inappropriate to stare at a lady while she was at her most vulnerable.

The black haired swordsman extended his index finger and poked against her cheek. He felt smooth skin, soft to the touch like velvet or silk. Looking at her, she didn't seem to have aged a single day. Beside the more severe clothes, her appearance was just as youthful as he remembered, as if she was impervious to the machinations of time.

"Hauu." She stirred. Then, slowly, she straightened herself, her gaze groggy and disoriented from being waked. "Oh Rean, what are you doing in my room? Is there an emergency meeting?"

"If there is, I'm not in a position to tell you, President Towa," he delivered with an utterly straight face.

"But you are always on top of... wait." She looked around herself, her almond eyes for once as big as saucers. "This is the cadet committee." She murmured. Then her tiny shoulders sank. "Oh no, I fell asleep again." Her head whipped around in an instant, her eyes blazing and scary if not for the cute pout around her pink lips. Was she wearing lip gloss?

"This is the first time in months I fall asleep in my office and it just so happens that you catch me exactly then," she spoke in a voice full of adorable indignation. "Are you doing this on purpose, Rean?"

Their stare-down continued for several seconds.

Rean felt the corner of his mouth twitch. Towa's mouth twitched back. Seconds later, they broke out into laughter and giggles. All tension and reservation he harbored in his heart vanished like morning mist in the sunlight. When he finally found it in himself to breathe properly again, he felt himself tackled by a human shaped missile, her slender form pressing against his with softness and warmth.

He hugged her back, his hand gliding through her thick hair. The smell of ink and paper tickled his nostrils, as well as the fragrance of daffodil.

"It's good to see you again, Towa," he murmured.

"It's good to see you too, Rean."

They separated. "You've grown again, haven't you? This is so unfair."

He scratched his head. "I guess I just got lucky."

She smiled. "Oh well. How about I make us some tea?"

"I would be honored."

She glowered at him in mock-indignation again. "Drop the formalities, will you? We are way past them."

Rean scratched his cheek and sat down. "You look like Thors life is doing you good."

"Oh?" She answered slyly. "I think what you really intend to say is that you are glad I didn't change at all."

"How?" He breathed out.

She wagged her index finger. "You aren't the only one with a discerning eye. Besides, once someone gets to know you, you are quite predictable." She continued to prepare the tea. "Of course, your impression isn't correct. This place did change me. Perhaps it's true what older people use to say - that the only constant in life is change."

"You are amazing as always, President Towa." Rean chuckled. "Though I think I should use your new title instead?"

"Please don't. It's such a mouthful. Just call me Towa." She tilted her head and touched her right cheek with her gloved hand. "It's a shame really. I'll miss the way you call me president."

Soon enough, both of them were sitting with a hot cup of eastern green tea in hand, enjoying each others soothing presence. "You know, I'm pretty surprised nobody has interrupted us yet. My office usually enjoys a constant stream of visitors."

Rean sipped the tea, which was brewed to perfection. "At this time of the day?" He looked towards the darkness outside.

"I'm in pretty high demand, for better or worse. You catching me asleep is quite a lucky break for me. There are plenty of cadets on campus who would use my show of weakness against me."

He froze. "I see. Things have indeed changed." Back in Baldurs, the student body loved her to bits and nobody would look down on her for taking a nap on occasion. The black-haired swordsman hesitated, but it was clear she was inviting him to ask. He exhaled. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Towa? Attending this... place. You detest war. No, you loathe it."

She smiled wistfully. "I still do. With all my heart. But the military isn't war itself, is it?"

"Perhaps. But it's a crucial part."

Towa nodded. She then put her cup down. "Do you still remember Minister Rorschach's entrance speech yesterday?"

He thought back to the iron lady and her harsh alto. "A continuation of politics, you mean?"

"Yes, though I don't fully agree with her words. It's not just politics - the economy, the culture, education, nearly every deeper aspect of Erebonian society is geared towards war. I could become a humble shopkeeper and distance myself from the reality of this country, but I thought it would be a waste."

"So you instead decided to go the opposite direction?"

Towa took a long sip. "This country needs internal reforms, but most of them aren't even debated in Heimdallr or thought of in popular consciousness, what with the social class issue dominating the entire political discourse. But I'm just a commoner, so my options to severely impact politics is limited, especially because I don't agree with either the Noble Faction or the Reformists."

Rean had difficulty keeping his mouth closed. "Your military career is merely a short-cut."

She smiled mischievously. "We do have a precedent of a commoner reaching the highest political office this country has to offer. Though it would be more correct to say that the Emperor created the office of High Chancellor from scratch."

He chuckled again. "I can't imagine a person more different from Chancellor Osborne than you, Towa. I understand too little about this country to have a firm opinion on how it should be run, but if you were to become our Head of State, I feel we would all be better for it."

"Thanks Rean. That's very sweet of you."

"But it's also a pretty lofty goal."

"Don't you want to say unrealistic?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "You don't need me to state the obvious."

"True. But I want to aim as high as possible and see where it takes me."

Rean finished his tea. He then faced her squarely. "How can I help?"

Towa looked torn. "This is only your second day. You should get used to the Thors curriculum before committing to anything."

He shook his head. "I refuse. I think I could examine the campus all year long or do introspection until I drop, but I still won't find a goal more worthy than yours. Let me help ease your burden. I know I can only do little, but every bit helps, doesn't it?"

She smiled fondly. "Still the same. Oh well, you can help me, but I have a condition."

"I'm listening."

"Stop underselling yourself. What you do isn't merely a little. Your help is invaluable. As long as you understand this, we shall have an agreement."

First there was Elise, who always told him to value himself more. Then there was Fie's subtle quip and now Towa, all of them telling him the same thing in their unique way. He sighed mentally. Perhaps it was time to take their message to heart for once?

"Deal!"

Towa nodded and finished the rest of her tea in a hurry. She then went to her overloaded desk. After a little rummaging she took out four envelopes. "Are you still keeping in touch with other Baldurs alumni?"

"Yeah, I do." He frowned. "You want me to deliver these letters?"

"Yes. They are addressed to Kenneth Lakelord, Rex Galino, Loggins Irving and Lambert Mach."

"The captains of the fishing, photography, fencing and riding clubs at Baldurs."

"All clubs who made you a honorary member. Well, I plan to create a network of alumni from all the military academies across Erebonia, but I think I can get more people to commit themselves if my idea is carried and referred by someone they trust."

"They're all Baldurs alumni. I think they trust you all right."

"But it lacks a personal touch, doesn't it?"

Rean stroked his chin. "So what should I do? Deliver them personally?"

"If possible. But you can also send these letters with an introductory letter from yourself. Basically a letter with another letter inside. Or call them with your ARCUS beforehand. Or use a messaging system which utilizes the Orbal Net."

"Okay. And what is the purpose behind this alumni network?"

She told him.

It was the first time in a long while that he was left completely slack-jawed.