March of Elementary Questing
Irene woke up the next day feeling refreshed, so she spent more time in the morning practicing her meditation and the sword than usual. Julia elected to sleep in a bit later, so when Irene finished, she left to complete the requests she was tasked to handle herself, at least initially. Investigating the Old Schoolhouse would be best taken on with assistance.
'Aside from the Old Schoolhouse, there is Colette's request for finding her student notebook, George's request to help with deliveries, putting in the order for Lawrence's jacket at Le Sage, and something from Fred at the cafe. Probably easiest to start with the latter two.'
As she stepped out of the dorm, she paused, her breath caught in her throat as she watched the light of the morning sun wash over the town.
'Wow…it's such a beautiful day!'
The lino flowers were still blooming, and the white petals they dropped were still fluttering through the air like warm snow.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?" came a placid voice from next to Irene.
"Oh! Good morning Gaia," Irene started, turning to the side. "Apologies for ignoring you."
"It's quite alright," the Nord girl laughed from where she leaned against the outside of their dormitory. "It seems that this must be an unusual sight, even to an Erebonian such as yourself."
"Mnh!" Irene agreed. "These trees don't grow in Ymir, it's too mountainous."
"Not many trees grow on the Highlands at all."
"Ah! So a lot of the scenery is new to you too, not just the place and people."
"Indeed," Gaia affirmed. "I will say that the variation in terrain in the Empire is quite refreshing. I love my home, but one can only behold so much open plain before the novelty begins to wear off."
"Hehe, I feel similar about snow," Irene said. "In the winter, Ymir usually gets blanketed so that all you see is white. Looks real pretty, but it sure is a pain to clear or walk through."
"The weather and climate are one thing," Gaia mused, "the people are quite another. It's quite interesting to see how complex things are, even in a fairly small town such as this."
"I can imagine," Irene replied. "Has it been difficult adjusting?"
"Overall? No." Gaia shook her head. "For all your nation's reputation for being dismissive or suspicious of outsiders, I have mostly encountered curiosity or wariness at worst."
"It probably helps that Erebonia has never really had serious conflict with your people," Irene pointed out.
"Perhaps," Gaia agreed. "I did encounter some very unpleasant individuals, but their unpleasantness was directed against everyone, not me specifically. You'll find those kinds of people in every society."
"I suppose that's true," Irene agreed. "Though, onto a less grim topic, may I ask what, or perhaps who, you are waiting for?"
"I had asked Masha to show me around the bookstore or the library," Gaia replied. "I had never seen so many books in one place before, it made me curious."
'That's right! Given how many Nord live, they probably can't really keep that many books.'
"I can't imagine life without easy access to books," Irene murmured. "Reading about history is just so fascinating!"
"Your passion for that is evident in class," Gaia chuckled with a light smile.
"Hehe, is it that obvious?" Irene asked bashfully, before trying to change the subject. "You mentioned you wanted to go to the bookstore, right?"
"Indeed," Gaia replied. "As much of a Nord savage I may be, I have read books before, though I have never had the pleasure of having one I owned myself."
"Well we can't have that!" Irene declared, before pausing. "I would offer to go with you, but I don't think Masha would like me showing up uninvited."
"You could also just happen to be at the bookstore at the same time," Gaia pointed out, a slight smile on her face.
"That would be a little bit funny," Irene chuckled, "but I wouldn't want to ruin the mood." Instead she reached into her pouch and retrieved a five hundred Mira note. "Here, this should be able to pay for your first, very own book."
Gaia's eyes widened slightly. "You are giving me this, without any desire for repayment? Why?"
"I just think everyone should have at least one book to call their own," Irene replied. "Is that strange, ehehe?"
"Perhaps," Gaia answered slowly, taking the note. "But it seems a noble sentiment to me. I thank you for your generosity."
"It's no problem," Irene waved her off. "I hope you have fun!"
With that, she and Gaia parted ways and Irene headed for the boutique. After a short conversation with the clerk (also named Julia, as it so happened) and an utterly shameless pink haired student named Vivi, that task was done. Next, Irene stopped over at the cafe to speak with Fred, who needed help acquiring some specific spices, before heading towards the academy.
As she approached the bridge, she found it occupied by a purple haired young man in a noble's uniform, a cap, and wading boots of all things. He noticed her approach and greeted her with a wave.
"Hey there," he called. "Haven't met you before. You're Class VII right? What with the red jacket."
"That's correct," Irene confirmed, dipping into a brief curtsey. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Irene Schwarzer, and you are?"
"Oh geez, where are my manners?" the young man smiled awkwardly, standing up straight. "Ehem. I'm Kenneth Lakelord, pleased to meet you."
"Of the Lakelord family, then?" Irene asked politely. 'From what I heard, his family is quite fond of fishing. It would explain the boots.'
"Yup, part of the Imperial Fishing Club and all that." Kenneth relaxed, leaning against the railing. "You ever try fishing?"
"On a few occasions," Irene replied, a bit surprised by his casual manner. "I didn't ever really get the hang of it, unfortunately."
"That's a shame, it's a nice pastime, did you like it at least?"
"It shares some similarities with meditation," Irene replied. "So it was a calming activity."
"Well in that case, how about you take these?" Kenneth pulled a simple looking fishing rod and a notebook from the bag set against the side of the bridge. "I've got others, and it's always good to see new people interested in fishing."
"Oh, umm…" Irene stuttered, unsure how to respond. 'This is…quite forward.'
"What's–oh…oh!" Kenneth flushed, waving his hand. "I've been asking if anyone was interested in fishing, please forgive me if it came off as something else."
"It's alright, Lord Lakelord," Irene replied graciously. "I was merely surprised."
"Man, you're really formal about all this," Kenneth observed. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's still weird being called 'lord' though, that's my dad in my mind."
"I can refer to you otherwise–"
"Yeah, just call me Kenneth, it's less confusing that way."
"Very well, you may call me Irene in turn, and thank you for the gift."
"You're welcome," Kenneth replied, turning away and walking towards the academy. "See you around, I'll be looking for nice fishing spots."
"Could you wait a moment, please?" Irene called.
"Huh?" Kenneth started. "Oh sure, what is it?"
"Do you happen to know where Annabelle is?" Irene asked hesitantly. 'She ran away from school, and we haven't heard a word from her since.'
"No," Kenneth replied, shaking his head. "Last I heard was her running off after she was betrothed to my brother. I've got no idea what happened to her."
"I see," Irene sighed. "Thank you for answering."
"I'm sure she'll turn up somewhere," Kenneth reassured. "Probably at a good fishing spot. Who knows? Maybe I'll find her someday." With that, he walked off.
'I sure hope she's fine. But there's not much use thinking about that now.'
Putting aside worrying for her former schoolmate, Irene made her way to the Engineering building. As she reached the door, a sharp, off-key sound came from inside, almost making her flinch.
Not wanting to interrupt something important, she opened the door slowly and poked her head inside, spotting Elisha fiddling with what looked to be a radio.
"Are you almost done with that?" the portly upperclassman who had been with Towa on their first day called, covering his ears. 'His name was George, right?'
"I think so," Elisha called back. "It's working, but I don't think it sounds quite right."
"Obviously! It sounds totally off!"
"If it bothers you that much, George, maybe you could just tell me what the actual issue is!"
"Um…" Irene interjected. "Is this a bad time?"
"Irene!" Elisha yelled, waving a greeting. "Does this sound off to you too?"
"Yes…it sounds very off key."
"Huh, I figured," Elisha muttered. "Couldn't really tell for sure though."
"How?!" George exclaimed disbelievingly.
"I'm tone deaf, ok!" Elisha grumbled.
"You couldn't have told me that earlier?!" George yelled.
"How was I supposed to know that it would be relevant?" Elisha fired back. "Do you go around saying 'Oh yeah, I'm tone deaf!' when you meet people?"
"No, I meant you could have mentioned that when you tried tuning the thing!"
"I wasn't trying to tune it at all!"
"Then what are you doing now?!"
"Testing the sound output!"
"Well tune it then!"
"Sure, tell the tone deaf guy to tune something, that'll work out great!"
"Um…didn't you send a request for assistance with deliveries?" Irene interjected, trying to calm the situation.
"You…asked a skinny girl to carry stuff for you? Geez, George, just how out of shape are you?" Elisha snarked, throwing an accusing look at the portly upperclassman.
"Hey now! I sent the request to the Student Council, not her specifically," George deflected.
"So you asked the short, skinny girl, who delegated it to the taller and stronger, but still skinny, girl…" Elisha continued, not at all impressed. "What stuff do you need her to deliver anyways?
"Well, there's an orbal scale for the cooking club, an antique orbal lamp for Micht at the pawn shop, and a wrist watch for Micheal at Radio Trista," George listed off.
"Oh, not that heavy," Elisha observed, "so why can't you go and drop them off yourself?"
"I've got all this stuff I need to get fixed up!" George cried, gesturing to a fair number of orbal devices in various states of disrepair.
"Oh right, you're making time for Angie's project," Elisha concluded.
"That too," George conceded.
"Alright, I get it," Elisha nodded. "You got a tinkering date, so I can't really blame you there."
"It's not a date!" George spluttered. "We're not like that!"
"...right," Elisha said after a long pause.
"Do…you have the items I need to deliver ready?" Irene asked, having stood awkwardly to the side for most of the conversation.
"Oh! Yes, sorry about not paying attention," George muttered hurriedly, turning around to collect the repaired items.
"Say…you've got good hearing, right Irene?" Elisha asked suddenly.
"I s-suppose so?" Irene replied, giving him a questioning look.
"And you're not tone deaf, right?"
"I am not."
"Would you mind helping me fix this thing?" he waved at the orbal radio on the bench in front of him.
"I'm afraid I would be of little help," Irene replied. "I've hardly ever used one of these before, let alone fixed one."
"Nah, that's not what I was asking. I just need you to tell me if the thing's making the right noise," Elisha explained. "If it sounds wrong, I'll tweak it, tell me if it sounds better or worse, and so on. That make sense?"
"I suppose I have time…but how will I know what it's supposed to sound like?" Irene wondered.
Elisha pushed a button on the device and the notes of a song blared through it again. Unfortunately, it was not a song Irene recognized.
"This'll take awhile, won't it?" George muttered to himself, covering his ears.
It took some time before a song Irene recognized was played, but one song was all Elisha needed to get it working properly.
With that done, Irene took the delivery items and headed out towards the main building to deliver the orbal scale.
She approached the home economics classroom with some trepidation. When she did not hear any screaming or crazed laughter, she breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door–
Whoosh!
A flash of flame bloomed from a stove, before suddenly vanishing.
"Margarita!"
"It wasn't me this time!"
And sure enough, the ringleted girl was not the one who's station had combusted. Instead, it was the pan in front of Fion.
"Oops," the silver haired boy said flatly.
"Margarita!" Instructor Altheim sighed, "why did you teach Fion how to do that?"
"I didn't! He must have figured it out on his own!"
Everyone else in the club gave the unusual blonde noblewoman unconvinced looks.
"Yup," Fion nodded, examining the remnants of whatever he had been trying to cook, before using a fork to pop some of it into his mouth.
"Fion!" the instructor (who was also a blonde noblewoman) gasped in both surprise and reprovement.
"Tasty," Fion declared, chewing on the questionable food he had made.
Everyone else in the room stared at him.
"D-did I come at a bad time?" Irene asked, shuffling her feet a bit when all eyes in the room swiveled over to her.
"Oh! Hello Irene," Instructor Altheim greeted with a strained smile. "Are you interested in joining as well?"
"Unfortunately, I'm afraid I must decline, Instructor Altheim," Irene replied. "But I do have the orbal scale you sent to the engineering club for repairs."
"Already?" The brown haired leader of the cooking club asked, squinting his eyes at Irene. "George really works fast!"
"Oh, thank you for sending that out, Nicholas," Instructor Altheim sighed, shooing Fion away from his cooking station. "Fion, are you alright?"
"Yup." The silver haired boy seemed unharmed, and entirely unfazed by the near miss, face blank and as passive as ever.
"Wait, why were you stirring with a metal spoon?!" the club instructor exclaimed. "Is your hand ok?"
Fion raised a gloved, and unharmed hand. "Yup."
"Oh, thank goodness," Instructor Altheim sighed. "Please, Fion, if you aren't sure about something, ask."
"Ok." Fion nodded. "Why are there so many different spoons? Why so many different forks? Why are there dull knives when other ones are sharp? Why are there sticks in the utensil drawer?" Throughout his sudden barrage of questions, he maintained his flat, uninterested tone he usually spoke with.
Instructor Altheim was taken aback, "Err…not quite what I meant…"
"Ok." Fion nodded again, and stopped talking.
"Fion," Irene called, getting the silver haired boy's attention. "I believe Instructor Altheim just wants you to give her a chance to answer one of the questions before you ask the next one, not to stop asking questions at all."
"Yes, thank you Irene," the flustered blonde noble replied thankfully. "Oh, this group is going to be such a handful!"
"I resent that!" Margarita cried, but Instructor Altheim ignored her.
"Um…I can help explain the utensils to Fion, if you would like?" Irene offered, feeling bad for the harassed looking fine arts teacher.
"That would be wonderful, dear," Instructor Altheim breathed. "Thank you."
And so Irene set the other two orbal items down for the moment, and started introducing Fion to the rather confusing field of table manners.
It…went, not poorly, but not well.
"Butter is easy to cut, yes, but why not use the sharp knife?"
"You have a knife dedicated for the butter, so it can stay with butter in case someone else wants to use it."
"Wouldn't it be easier for everyone to just have their own sharp knife?"
"Maybe, but it would be rude, and a little unsanitary, to use your own utensil to manipulate food that could be shared with everyone."
"Is that how that works? I've never seen it work like that."
"Did your parents not teach you about this?"
"Nope. It was more grab all you can before it's all gone."
"...Oh. My apologies."
"Huh? For what?"
"...Never mind." 'Is Fion an orphan?'
The silver haired boy seemed to know nothing of table manners, somehow, but he was also extremely curious, even if many of his questions were perhaps excessive. Either way, while Irene was happy to help him, she was starting to see why Instructor Altheim looked so frazzled, and was so willing to pass off handling Fion.
Fion rarely spoke unless prompted. But as it turned out, he had plenty to ask when prompted.
After what turned out to be about half an hour but felt substantially longer, Fion finally ran out of questions about cutlery. Irene tamped down the urge to sigh in relief. This was the most she'd heard the young man speak, and she didn't want to discourage him from talking, even if it was a bit tiring to keep up with.
'What kind of life has he lived so far? The only other person I've seen as quiet as him is Kordell, but she is the complete opposite of lackadaisical–Oh! I have to deliver the other items!'
Making her excuses, Irene turned to leave, but paused when she felt a slight tug on her sleeve. She looked back to see Fion offering her…a student handbook?
"Found this on a couch when I went to nap," he explained. "You're the notebook lady, right?"
"Eh?" Irene blinked. "Oh! I suppose I was the one who gave Lawrence your notebook. Whose notebook is it? It isn't yours, right?"
Fion shook his head. "Not mine. Dunno whose."
Irene took the offered notebook and checked the front cover. 'Oh! This is Colette's notebook!'
"Thank you, Fion," Irene smiled. "One of our schoolmates said this had gone missing. This simplifies things a lot."
"You're welcome," Fion returned, voice bland as always, but Irene couldn't help but be reminded of Badeux whenever he retrieved a target during a hunt.
"Hehe, you're quite a thoughtful young man, aren't you?" Irene chuckled, absently giving Fion a pat on the head.
"I guess?" the young man shuffled his feet uncertainly, then turned back to the organized categories of cutlery.
"So many forks and knives…"
'It's strange to see such a young student here. Still, he seemed quite skilled during the orienteering exercise. Just what was his life like up till now?'
After that, Irene went to the Student Union, where she returned the notebook to the surprised and very thankful Colette. She also spoke with the chef there, a man named Ramsey, who happened to have a stock of the spices that Fred needed.
Now with all the items collected, Irene headed back into town, delivering the lamp to the rather grumpy proprietor at the eponymous Micht's and handing the wristwatch over to the rather excited Radio Trista DJ named Michael, who recommended their new radio show. Irene did not have a radio, so she just smiled and nodded.
With those tasks completed, Irene headed back to the Engineering building.
"That took a while," Elisha observed, looking up from his bench, where his gun lay partially disassembled. "Did the fatass saddle you with too much stuff to easily carry?"
"Hey!" George objected.
"No, they weren't that heavy at all," Irene quickly corrected. "I was just waylaid by a few other tasks."
"Man, the Student Council sure is busy," Elisha muttered. "Are people that desperate already? It's only been a couple weeks."
"Well…"
"They take requests from the town too," George pointed out, "so that can add a fair bit depending on the week."
"So the Student Council has pseudo-governmental responsibility over the town, or is the town government that incompetent?"
"More like the town sprung up around the academy," the portly engineer explained, "so the Principal kind of functions similarly to the mayor of the town."
"Huh," Elisha grunted. "And he doesn't even have to pay the Student Council for doing odd jobs. Nice."
"We do appreciate your work though, Irene," George added, giving the young woman in question a thankful nod.
"You're very welcome," Irene returned gracefully. "It's all just part of my new duties."
"You can also have the radio Elisha just fixed," the portly man offered. "We just got a new one here, so we don't really need it."
"Oh, I couldn't–"
"Wait, then why did you want me to fix it anyways?" Elisha grumbled.
"I wasn't planning on throwing it out just because we got a new one!" George yelled back.
"I c-can take the radio if that helps," Irene interjected.
"Yeah, take the radio Irene," Elisha agreed. "Make him pay you for your work!"
"All that aside," George sighed, "it helped me out a lot. If you need help with your quartz or any orbal device, feel free to ask me for help. I'm also supposed to be in charge of doing maintenance on your ARCUS units, but well…" He glanced over at Elisha. "I'm definitely not as familiar with them as one of the designers."
"Oh! You designed the ARCUS, Elisha?" Irene exclaimed, giving the blonde man an impressed look.
"Part of it," he replied, idly twirling his screwdriver. "Mostly the link part. Seems to work well for something hashed together by a guy with no friends. Also is it copyright infringement if your mother uses your work in something your family company makes without your permission?"
His voice was mild, but he definitely was not pleased.
"Oh…" 'Is it ok for him to be telling us that?'
"Eh, forget I said anything," Elisha shrugged. "Not like you guys had anything to do with Reinford Co shenanigans."
"I apologize if us using them bothers you," Irene began, but Elisha cut her off.
"I ain't got a problem with you guys," he corrected. "You seem all decent folk. I'm more concerned about who these things are intended for, after they are done with the test phase."
'That was a good point, actually…'
"That's kind of above our paygrade," George pointed out.
"I don't get exactly paid," Elisha shrugged. "But yeah, enough about that." He turned to Irene. "Is it true that you're going into the Old Schoolhouse again?"
"The principal has requested I lead a group there, yes."
"Got room for me? I have many questions."
"Yes, thank you for offering," Irene replied. "I was about to go ask around–"
"I got it," Elisha interrupted, pulling out his Arcus and putting it to his ear. "Hey Emmet, Irene's got an assignment to look into the Old Schoolhouse–."
"I'll be there," Emmet replied, then immediately hung up.
Elisha called another person, though this time they took longer to answer. "Hey Lawrence, you up for a run into the Old Schoolhouse?"
"Aye," came the prompt reply.
"Cool, see you in a bit," Elisha ended the call.
Irene blinked, not sure what to say.
"What?" Elisha asked, giving her a curious stare. "Three of us want to see more of that place, so this is as good a time as ever."
"I see," Irene nodded. "I just wasn't expecting you all to be ready on a moment's notice. Please let me collect some supplies before we head into danger."
"Sounds good," Elisha replied, reassembling his gun in no time. "I bet Emmet and Lawrence will be headed to the store as well, we might as well meet them there."
Sure enough, when the two of them arrived at the Student Union store, Emmet and Lawrence were there as well.
"Well met, Lady Irene," Lawrence greeted, waving.
"How many tear balms do you think we will need?" Emmet asked, skipping the formalities.
"I've got some recovery arts stored up," Elisha replied, "so no need to go overboard."
"I am of little use when it comes to arts," Lawrence admitted, "especially since I am still having trouble operating the ARCUS."
"Yeah, they weren't really designed with hands your size in mind," Elisha observed.
"We should acquire a few antitoxin and the like," Irene suggested. "Though if the Schoolhouse gets too dangerous, it may be best to retreat."
"If it is anything like our last stint down there, that might be a bit excessive," Emmet countered. "Something tells me that if there is an increase in danger, it is going to be more gradual." He shrugged. "It is still not a bad idea to err on the side of caution."
The four of them purchased the items they thought would be necessary, then headed upstairs to discuss the task with the principal. Since she technically was the one who was assigned the task directly, Irene knocked on the door to his office.
"Come in!" Principal Vandyck's booming voice called, and the group entered.
"Ah, I see that you've already assembled a group, Class VII," the principal observed, turning around to face them from where he had been looking out the window. "I suppose that simplifies some things."
The retired general was tall and broad shouldered, but at the moment, he appeared relaxed, waving the students over informally. Even so, Irene felt a bit hesitant approaching him, but ended up dragged forward as no one else in the group appeared to share her trepidation. Then again, Lawrence was even taller than Vandyck, and by a wide margin.
"I request that your Class investigate the interior of the Old Schoolhouse," the principal began. "It has long been a sort of campus mystery, and under normal circumstances, would be officially off limits, even if students always had a habit of using it as a test of strength."
"Normal circumstances?" Emmet inquired, apparently unafraid of interrupting the principal.
"We decided to test your class in the same way," Vandyck explained, before frowning slightly. "Although the trapdoor had not been part of the discussion, so that was purely the decision of your instructor."
"Of course it was," Elisha muttered, rolling his eyes.
"That said," the principal continued, "I do owe you all an apology for that. It was probably unnecessary, even if it was an effective way of demonstrating the kind of instructor Valestein is."
"An unconventional instructor for an unconventional class," Lawrence offered diplomatically.
"Indeed," Vandyck agreed, before pressing on. "To return to the topic at hand, there have long been many rumors about the schoolhouse, the gargoyle you faced being one of the more well known ones."
"It was certainly an unusual monster, if that is all it is," Lawrence mused.
"You might even consider it a 'demon' or 'fiend'," the principal added.
"You seem awfully cavalier about sending students into a place with such 'fiends'," Elisha pointed out. "Sure, we beat it before, but with how that place is, what if it comes back?"
"Very astute. From our observations, that gargoyle will indeed return to its original state if given enough time alone."
'Wait, what?! How?!'
"If that much is known about the Schoolhouse, why send us to investigate now?" Emmet asked. "Perhaps you have evidence to suggest that the current situation is abnormal?"
"We have our suspicions," the principal confirmed. "There have been reports of strange doors appearing and disappearing, and even voices in the darkness. However, we are not certain of the veracity of these reports, hence this request."
"Is there a reason that you are making this request of students, Principal Vandyck?" Irene asked with deliberate politeness. "Would not such phenomena be better investigated by agents from more knowledgeable organizations? The Church and the Bracer Guild come to mind."
"If there is indeed something dangerously amiss there, then yes," Vandyck admitted. "But as of now, with only rumors that may or may not be the result of a prank, we deemed it likely safe enough for you." He smiled, looking over the group. "Though I will say: with the skill you already possess, you are already quite formidable."
"Eh, I wanted a crack at some of the weird tech in there anyways," Elisha declared.
"Think of it as studying for our practical exam, Lady Irene," Lawrence encouraged, giving her a bright smile.
"I might as well count it as a club activity," Emmet muttered under his breath.
"I suppose it is a request for the Student Council," Irene sighed. "But with all due respect, Principal, I still question the value of this level of circumspection."
"Your concern is noted, Lady Schwarzer," Vandyck replied. "Only keep in mind that we hope to limit the spread of the rumors to avoid less capable students stumbling into more trouble than they can handle, especially without us being aware of their entrance into the Schoolhouse."
"I understand," Irene nodded. 'I am not sure if this will truly dissuade people from poking around, but at the very least we will be clearing out some of the monsters.'
"In any case," the principal continued, "you will be needing this." He offered the group an old, ornate key. "This is the key to the Old Schoolhouse. Best of luck, and stay safe."
Lawrence gave Irene a questioning look. 'I suppose this task was relayed to me, originally.' She took the key. "Thank you, Principal Vandyck. We will report back when we return."
"Rather optimistic, aren't we?" Elisha joked on the way out of the Student Union.
"I find it unlikely that the principal would send us there if he had serious doubts about our chances of survival," Lawrence countered.
"Or he believes we have good enough sense to run if things become too dangerous," Emmet suggested.
"There might not even be anything different than last time," Irene added. "Unless the whole place can just rearrange itself on a whim."
"Point," Elisha conceded, "probably still more monsters, but I haven't seen any work crews, so it's not them pulling a fast one on us like that."
"I would not be so certain," Emmet cautioned, straightening his glasses.
As they approached the Old Schoolhouse, they found, to their surprise, that Fion was waiting for them, idly juggling one of his pistols.
"That better not be loaded, young man!" Irene called reprovingly.
Fion shrugged, catching his gun and holstering it. "No, ma'am," he replied, rather unconvincingly.
Irene sighed, shaking her head. "What are you doing out here Fion?"
"Saw you guys gearing up for something," came the bland reply, "so I figured it had to be here."
"Well, I think your assistance will be helpful for this excursion," Lawrence declared.
"Would mean that we'd have one person left out of a combat link," Elisha pointed out.
"I'll probably scout ahead," Fion shrugged, "so no biggie."
Irene was tempted to object, but pushed it down, remembering how Fion had almost gotten through the whole dungeon before them, only blocked off by the gargoyle. "If you reach the end, Fion, please don't try to fight the gargoyle on your own."
"Wilco," the silver haired boy replied, "I'll backtrack if I find the exit. I didn't think the statue would come alive, so probably best to expect that something else's gonna pop up there."
"No harm in that," Emmet agreed. "That seems to track with what we've seen so far."
With one additional member to their party, Irene unlocked the door and they went inside.
The room looked the same as it did the last time they had been here, but when they pushed open the door through which they had been led after defeating the gargoyle the last time, they stopped short.
"Is it just me, or does this room look smaller than it did last time?" Lawrence asked, glancing around bemusedly.
"Yeah, maybe about half the size?" Elisha agreed. "There's also a charging station that was not there before."
"No gargoyle," Fion pointed out. And indeed, there was no statue, not even the remains of the creature they had fought.
"Strange," Irene murmured. "I don't believe there was a door there last time, either."
"With how seamless the wall is, there is no way this could have been accomplished without anyone noticing within two weeks," Emmet observed.
"It appears that the principal's suspicions are correct, there is something strange going on here," Lawrence declared. "We're not going to find any answers standing here, so shall we advance?"
"Hold on, I want to check on the charging station, maybe even take it with us," Elisha objected.
"Wouldn't it be easier to grab that when we leave?" Irene asked. "I don't know if it would be wise to carry something like that around."
"Assuming we can even remove it from the floor," Emmet pointed out.
And true enough, despite its appearance, the charging station would not budge, not even under Lawrence's efforts.
"What the shit?" Elisha cursed. "This makes no sense."
"Yes, this is odd," Lawrence agreed with a frown, eying the floor around the charging station. "I do not see anything fixing it in place."
"Let's get a move on," Emmet suggested. "We're wasting time."
They pushed open the new door, and paused yet again.
"That…is completely different than what we went through two weeks ago…" Elisha observed.
"The room is one thing," Lawrence remarked, "but it would be downright impossible to alter this whole dungeon so quickly, as far as I'm aware."
"This will definitely be something the principal will be interested in," Irene observed, closing her eyes and reaching out with her senses. "There are also monsters ahead, so we will have to be careful."
"Most likely different ones too," Emmet added.
"What makes you reach that conclusion?" Irene asked, giving the purple haired man a curious look.
"Just a hunch."
'He doesn't look as surprised as the rest of us. In fact, this almost seems…familiar to him.'
"What's that?" Fion asked, pointing to something not far from the entrance. It was clearly a device of some kind, with some sort of hemisphere set on top of a round table of sorts.
"No idea," Elisha replied. "Not like these things come with manuals."
"Is it perhaps a marker?" Lawrence suggested. "Or a map?"
"Could be," Emmet shrugged. "But I don't think any of us can decipher this at the moment, so there isn't much reason to gawk at it."
That was true, and so the party continued into the dungeon floor proper. Fion scouted ahead, alerting the main group to dead ends and monster group movements.
Emmet's conjecture proved correct, and there were indeed different monsters present than two weeks ago, including some sort of slug creature, poms, and amalgams.
He was also correct that the monsters did not prove major threats, especially with the five of them.
Irene wasn't sure when it happened, but she and Lawrence had formed a combat link almost without conscious effort, and the two sword nobles easily carved a path through any of the monsters that got within their reach. Lawrence's fell hand sent many of them staggering, leaving them open to Irene's precise, deadly cuts.
Emmet and Elisha linked as well, coordinating arts and gunfire to pick off distant enemies, prioritizing the ones more resistant to physical attacks.
To make matters worse for the monsters, many of the groups they encountered were scattered and confused from Fion's hit and run scouting, often allowing the main group to catch them unawares.
After perhaps an hour, they reached a long corridor with a set of doors at the end and paused to catch their collective breath. None of the fights had been that individually tiring, but there had been many monsters.
"That's the end of the floor," Fion reported. "Assuming those doors are the end. Didn't go through, but don't seem trapped."
"Thank you, Fion," Irene smiled at her young classmate, who ducked his head slightly.
"What's that?" Elisha asked, pointing at another object, which was similar, but not quite the same as the charging station.
"Dunno," Fion shrugged.
"Let's not go poking around in it quite yet," Lawrence remarked, giving Elisha a pointed look.
"There's also another one of the hemispherical objects," Emmet added, pointing to the side. "That's evidence towards it being a marker of some kind, assuming that this is indeed the end."
"You have a guess about what's on the other side of that door?" Elisha grumbled, gaze flicking from one device, to the other. "And do we even know if it can be opened?"
"Door opened when I got close," Fion cut in.
"By itself?" Irene asked in surprise. "These ruins have to predate the orbal revolution."
"If I were to guess," Emmet drawled. "There will be a strong enemy on the other side of those doors. If it's anything like the gargoyle, it might even have horns."
"Everyone ready?" Irene asked, taking a deep breath to center herself.
"Aye!" Lawrence declared, rolling his shoulder.
"You're already acting like he's right," Elisha grumbled, but he nonetheless prepared his gun.
"Yup," Fion said.
Weapons at the ready, the party stepped up to the doors, which slid open as Fion described, revealing a wide room lined with pillars. One with no other exits.
There was a flash and distortion of air in the center of the room.
A guttural roar filled the room as a vaguely humanoid creature announced its arrival. Its bulging arms and legs were covered in dark fur and its torso and head were armored in rusted looking armor. Notably, its head did have horns.
"I was correct," Emmet remarked with some satisfaction.
Lawrence roared a challenge in return, and the party converged on the creature.
It was strong, its large fist pulverizing stone as it struck out at them, too slow to catch Irene as she danced to the side, blades cutting into its knee.
Lawrence's sword slammed into its head with a clang of metal, its helmet crumpling under the force.
Fire struck it in its chest a moment later, but failed to inflict lasting damage.
It reared up, inhaling deeply–
Gunfire struck its helm as Fion opened up, causing it to flinch, sending dark mist harmlessly into the air, leaving an opening that Irene and Lawrence ruthlessly exploited, the former cutting into its other leg, the latter cleaving through its armor in a screech of metal.
Golden spheres slammed into its head, followed by a burst of compressed air as Elisha and Emmet fired off arts.
There was a loud bang, and the monster's knee exploded as Fion dashed away–
Lawrence rammed his sword home in its other knee, slammed into its torso shoulder first, and toppled the bull headed creature to the floor with a thunderous crash.
The students descended upon the downed monster like a pack of hunting dogs, Irene and Fion attacking its arms to prevent it from retaliating, while Elisha blasted its remaining leg to keep it prone. Lighting crackled to life on Lawrence's sword as Emmet muttered an incantation, and the tall noble slammed the blade point first into the thing's throat, before tearing its head clean off with a grunt of effort.
The thing did not bleed, instead vanishing in a cloud of energy.
"I suppose that makes sense," Emmet remarked idly, adjusting his glasses and dusting off his jacket. "The higher elements would be active here."
"You think that was some kind of space or mirage art?" Elisha wondered.
"It could also be time," Emmet pointed out.
"Ehem! Is anyone hurt?" Irene cut in, focusing on something of more immediate importance.
Fortunately, no one had anything more than scrapes or bruises.
"Weak," Fion observed.
"It did seem less dangerous than the gargoyle," Lawrence agreed, checking over his sword. "Though perhaps that was because we were prepared this time."
"I don't think it was prepared to fight this many people," Elisha suggested, "especially not one almost as big as it was."
"It seemed less intelligent," Emmet added. "It tried to go for whomever appeared to be the weakest opponent first, leaving it open to retaliation when Schwarzer dodged."
"I'm just glad that no one was hurt," Irene said, not particularly concerned about how easily the creature had gone down.
"I suppose it is time we report back–"
"Not yet!" Elisha cut Lawrence off, rushing out of the dead end room. "Wait, that thing is now glowing!"
True enough, the hemispherical object was alight with a soft blue glow.
"Quest complete?" Lawrence murmured. "That can't be how this works, right?"
"It might…for all we know," Emmet shrugged.
"What in Gehenna?" Elisha sputtered. "This thing can convert sepith into quartz! Very idiot proof design too. Hmm…" he trailed off, furiously taking notes in his notebook.
Fion approached the now glowing object curiously, but Irene held out an arm to halt him. "We don't know what that does, let's not get too close."
"It does not appear to be a trap," Lawrence remarked. "Far too obvious."
"Unless it's a lure," Emmet countered. "Though if it is, it's strange that it started glowing after we killed the main monster on this floor."
"Perhaps it seeks to catch you off guard after you feel you are safe?" Lawrence suggested.
"Map," Fion declared, pointing at the hemisphere, specifically, the lines carved into it, now more evident next to the glowing lights.
"Was that also on the other one we saw?" Irene wondered, not having committed that detail to memory.
"Perhaps," Emmet replied thoughtfully, "but as far as I remember, it was a smooth hemisphere. It could be that the lines are not evident until it is lit. And yes Fion, it does appear to be a map of the floor we just traversed."
"Hey Lawrence! Can you move this thing?" Elisha called from the other device.
Despite the large noble's best efforts, it would not budge.
"Even more evidence that these changes were not done by more mundane means," Lawrence sighed, taking a deep breath.
"Could it have been due to the higher elements being active as you described?" Irene asked Emmet, who shrugged.
"Can't say I'm an expert on that subject," the bespectacled man replied. "But I believe these modifications would be beyond the ability of most to make, even if they were incredibly skilled at Space arts."
"Shouldn't we leave?" Fion asked. "Not smart to stay."
"Mnh. That we should," Irene agreed. "We need to report these findings to Principal Vandyck. Elisha, are you ready to leave?"
"No! This thing is fascinating! I need more time!"
"We do not know if more monsters will arrive," Lawrence cautioned. "It is probably best we leave."
"Something tells me that you will not be able to uncover that thing's secrets in one sitting," Emmet added.
"True," Elisha conceded. "I probably should take a coffee nap before I really try anything."
"Now that you mention it," Irene said with a sigh, "I'm starting to feel a bit tired myself."
"With how much you've been running around the whole day, I'm not surprised," Elisha snorted.
"If you wish, I could carry you–"
"No! T-thank you for the offer, but I will be f-fine!" Irene squeaked, shuffling away from Lawrence.
"Very well," the tall noble acquiesced, with no sign of offense.
"Ok, now to look at the other device." Elisha strode over to the glowing hemisphere. "Huh, there appears to be some sort of control panel here. Very seamless. Very nice."
"Wait, Elisha no–!"
There was a flash of blue light, and Irene felt her stomach drop as she had just fallen into another trap door.
An instant later, everything righted itself, and the group found themselves standing around the first of the hemispheres they had seen, now also glowing.
"Huh, so that's what–ow!"
"What did we say about giving us a warning?" Lawrence grunted, gently slugging Elisha in the shoulder.
"I did give a warning!"
"Figures that this was its function," Emmet murmured.
"'Ooh, shiny!' is not a warning, Elisha!"
'Emmet seems to be really familiar with the dungeon. Has he been in other ones?'
"Everyone!" Irene called. "The principal is waiting on us."
"Yes, let's go," Fion added. "I'm hungry."
"Elisha."
"I get it, I get it. I'll give a better warning next time."
The five of them left the building, stepping out to see the setting sun casting the world in a red hue. Irene locked the door, then they started down the path back to the rest of campus.
Emmet paused for a moment, glancing back. Irene followed his gaze, spotting a beautiful black cat perched on the roof of the Old Schoolhouse. For some reason, it had a blue ribbon on its tail.
"Ooh! That's an adorable cat!" Irene gushed, voice higher pitched than strictly polite.
"Eh, looks like a cranky one," Emmet muttered. "Probably vain and annoyingly needy too."
"I take it you don't like cats, Emmet?" Lawrence asked with a slight chuckle.
"Birds are better," Emmet replied. "Smarter, more loyal, and actually make pleasant noises."
"…I guess they're both cute," Irene conceded.
"Let's just go," Emmet grunted, "don't want that thing begging us for food."
They returned to the Student Union and headed up to the principal's office, where they reported their findings.
Both Principal Vandyck and Instructor Valestein were surprised to hear about the changes to the floor.
"While there are many strange things recorded about the Schoolhouse, this kind of phenomena does not appear in the academy records," Vandyck mused.
"The whole floor rearranged itself while we were gone?" their instructor reiterated. "That never happened when I was poking around down there. I wonder what changed?"
"Were there any changes made since then?" Emmet asked. "Any stimuli that may have triggered these changes?"
The principal shook his head. "We have not sent anyone in there since your orienteering exercise.
"No one got sent, but did anyone poke their nose where they weren't supposed to?" Elisha suggested.
"That is an unfortunate possibility," Vandyck acknowledged, "but that has happened before, and the changes you described did not occur."
"So, with a dearth of other possibilities, that would suggest the cause of this change was the orienteering exercise?" Emmet mused, skepticism clear in his voice.
"How would that be different from a more traditional test of courage?" Irene wondered. "The most unique feature of our class would be ARCUS, but I don't see how that could cause this change."
"Unless this is some sort of dungeon from the old stories that is supposed to test the bonds of friendship," Lawrence muttered.
Emmet snorted in laughter.
"There are a few stories about Emperor Dreichels and Saint Sandlot training in something similar," Lawrence defended. "Though I was under the impression that those were largely embellishments."
"No, sorry, I wasn't laughing at you," Emmet apologized, reigning in his laughter. "It's just funny that 'magic dungeon from old wives' tales' seems the most reasonable explanation at the moment, since we can quite easily discard the ones requiring more mundane methods."
"That seems a bit of a reach," Elisha muttered.
"Maybe," Irene murmured, twining her hair tie around her finger. "But if there is truly no explanation within our grasp, then we must accept that the cause lies outside our preconceptions."
"For what it is worth, Castle Lohengrin has displayed somewhat similar behavior ," Lawrence added. "Nothing as extreme as entire floors rearranging themselves, but I have seen the doors to and within the castle lock, unlock, open and close with no explanation."
"...As weird as that sounds, there's no way a castle that old would have the orbal tech to do stuff like that," Elisha tacked on.
"On second thought," Lawrence mused, rubbing his chin. "The Schoolhouse does feel similar to Castle Lohengrin. It has been some time since I was in the castle, so it did not immediately spring to mind."
"Perhaps you could ask your father to compare notes?" Emmet suggested.
"As fascinating as this subject is, my father has many responsibilities," Lawrence hedged. "However, it is theoretically possible to send a request to Legram's Bracer Guild branch."
"I guess I could send Toval a message," Instructor Valestein shrugged before muttering something under her breath that sounded a lot like "lucky bastard."
Lawrence gave their instructor a long look, before shaking his head.
"I suppose that could be a potential avenue of investigation," the principal noted, "though that will be outside the purview of this assignment."
"I imagine we will need more information before you are willing to send out a request," Irene added. "There is very little to go on, even for Viscount Arseid or a skilled bracer."
"Indeed," Vandyck nodded. "As such, I would like your class to further investigate the Schoolhouse when you have the time. After your performance today, it seems you are certainly up to the task."
"Great, I get to add more notes of how this thing makes no sense," Elisha whooped.
"Trying to reverse engineer one of those devices?" Emmet snorted.
"I'm nowhere near that point," Elisha shot back. "I barely even know what those things are."
"So something from the Dark Ages can stump an expert at modern technology?" Instructor Valestein chirped. "Those times must have been something wild!"
"Is that how old the dungeons are?" Irene exclaimed.
"I suppose that would explain the gargoyle," Lawrence offered.
"That is indeed what the records suggest," Vandyck confirmed.
"Remarkably clean for a structure over a millenia old," Emmet mused.
"The schoolhouse clearly is not that old," Elisha pointed out. "So that's got to be a later addition."
"Correct," the principal replied. "That was built when the academy was first founded."
"...Can I go find food now?" Fion piped up, causing a few of the room's occupants to double take, having forgotten he was there.
"Hah! I suppose that is enough speculation for today," the principal conceded. "Thank you for your work, Class VII, and I look forward to what you manage to accomplish in the future. In that interest, you may keep the key to the Old Schoolhouse while this investigation continues."
"Thank you for your confidence, Principal Vandyck," Irene replied, curtseying politely. "And we can get some food if everyone is hungry."
"Woo…" Fion cheered.
"Going on a dinner date with all the boys?" Instructor Valestein drawled with a grin. "My, aren't you ambitious, Irene?"
'H-huh?'
"Your insecurities are showing, Instructor," Emmet remarked mildly.
"Hey!"
"W-wait no, that's not–"
"If you're that desperate you can come too, teach," Elisha suggested.
"Oh come on!"
"Have you eaten, Principal Vandyck?" Lawrence asked. "I am not sure you would be interested in the food downstairs, but I feel it would be rude to exclude you."
"Hahaha! You certainly have your hands full with these ones, Sara," Vandyck laughed. "It would be entertaining, at the very least."
"...Did I just get a date?" Instructor Valestein mumbled.
And that was how the whole group ended up eating at the Student Union cafe, but at least there weren't tables large enough for it to become too awkward.
After a rather tasty meal in the cafeteria, Irene and her classmates went their separate ways. Lawrence went to train, Fion to nap, Elisha wasn't sure what he was supposed to do and Emmet did not divulge his plans.
Irene returned to their dorms for a quick shower before heading back to the student council room to help Towa with her duties. This time, they managed to clear out the backlog, but the other student council members still didn't show, to Irene's confusion.
It was tiring, especially after the expedition into the Old Schoolhouse, but Towa's grateful smile was well worth it.
"Thanks so much, Irene!" the diminutive president cheered, a wide smile on her face as the two of them exited the Student Council room. "We've basically all caught up with your help."
"It's all part of my new duties," Irene demurred, a small smile on her own face.
"Well, look at you two busy bees," a lackadaisical voice called, coming from a young man in a commoner's uniform, running his hand through his gray hair held up by a headband as he leaned against the wall.
"Oh! Hello Crow!" Towa chirped. "Waiting for me?"
"Nah, I was just hanging around," Crow replied with a grin, standing up straight and walking over to them. "So this is your new assistant?" he commented, looking Irene up and down, "she's pretty cute."
"Crow!"
'I…really need to get used to dealing with boys, don't I?'
Irene smiled politely. "It's nice to meet you, Mister Crow…?"
"Crow Armbrust, Class V," he introduced himself, a sly grin on his face. "Hope you can take care of Towa before she gets buried in paperwork, Student Council newbie."
"I will do my best," Irene replied, glancing over to Towa, an image of the small girl literally buried in paperwork flashing through her head.
"Oh, you don't have to worry," Towa assured. "You've been a great help already!"
"It was no trouble," Irene replied. "You seem to be working far too hard already, it seems."
"It was just my job to do all this," Towa deflected.
"And it is now my job to help you," Irene returned. "And that includes helping you work through the backlog."
"Oh, Aidios! There are two of you!" Crow exclaimed, staring at the two girls with wide eyes.
"H-huh?" Towa stammered.
"I…don't understand what you mean?" Irene replied questioningly. 'We don't look all that similar, do we?'
"Geez, way to make a guy feel awkward," Crow muttered, shaking his head in amusement.
"I apologize," Irene said contritely, glancing at Towa in confusion.
"S-sorry Crow," Towa added. "I don't know what you mean though. Irene and I don't look that much alike."
"...I think I'm just gonna cut my losses and stop talking about that," Crow decided. "Either of you up for some grub at the cafeteria? With all that paperwork, your hands must be cramped."
"Oh no, I'll be fine–" Towa paused as her stomach growled, and her face reddened in embarrassment.
"Haha! Sounds like you're hungry after all," Crow laughed.
"Hehe," Irene chuckled from behind her hand. "We have been working for a couple hours, and I don't remember seeing you eat dinner, President Towa."
"Oi oi!" Crow exclaimed. "Do I have to tell Angie you're skipping meals again?"
"No, no!" Towa protested. "I had lunch!"
"I don't believe coffee and crackers count as 'lunch', Miss President," Irene countered evenly.
"Hahaha! Attagirl, Ireney," Crow cheered. "Don't let her get away with it anymore!"
"I-ireney?"
"Crow!" Towa whined, shaking her head furiously. "Fine, I'll come eat, sheesh."
"Have a nice meal!" Irene said with a smile, taking a step away from the pair.
"You can come too, Irene," Towa suggested, smiling brightly. "After all the help you've been these couple of days, the least I could do is treat you to a meal."
"Oh! You don't have to–"
"Well I'll be damned, Towa," Crow drawled. "I didn't expect you to copy Angie this way."
"It's not like that Crow!" Towa burst out, shaking her fists at him in a way that was more cute than intimidating.
Crow just laughed, while Irene just sighed and shook her head. "And here I thought talk like this would be scarcer outside of St. Astraia," she murmured to herself.
"Oooh, sounds like someone's interested," Crow snickered.
"Mi-ster Armbrust." Irene closed her eyes and smiled. "Cease."
"Okay! Okay!" Crow backpedaled. "Geez, you really found a mini-me, Towa." He glanced between the two student council members. "Well, not exactly mini."
"Crow! Be nice!" Towa insisted.
"Fine, fine! Let's just go eat."
Irene ended up eating dinner with a group of people as well. To Towa's consternation, Crow ran off without paying, but Irene decided to cover the cost.
After that, she returned to her dormitory for the evening, practiced some of her sword forms, then listened to Radio Trista's new program, perhaps uncreatively named 'Abend Time'. Still, the host Misty's voice was pleasant enough, so Irene figured that it would not be a bad program to listen to while working on her schoolwork.
And so ended Irene's first free day at Thors Military Academy. It had been rather hectic, but she had a feeling this was only the beginning.