Manifest Fantasy

The mouth-watering aroma hit them before they even reached the Central Refectory. Much like Carfley, the scent was overwhelming – in a tantalizing way. Passing a group of students exiting and bidding Arran goodbye, Henry pushed through the atmosphere of spices, meats, and pastries.

Though expected, the sight within was still something to behold. Hell, it was about as fancy as Carfley, if not more. Vaulted ceilings, clean glass windows – it mirrored something out of an Ivy League brochure, if Ivy Leagues employed magical constructs made of stone as wait staff.

Four-legged chest-high golems ambled about, torsos carved out to make space for trays. Honestly, they looked damn strange, yet practical at the same time. If anything, they kinda reminded Henry of those restaurant server robots he’d seen at that hot pot place back home, at least in terms of function. Design? Well, it seemed like the Sonarans had to make do with what they had.

The golems worked in tandem with flesh-and-blood waiters from a myriad of humanoid races. The constructs handled the heavy lifting and transportation while the living staff managed the finer points of service.

“Welcome to the Central Refectory, I am Head Steward Callan,” a voice blindsided them.

Henry turned around, finding himself face-to-face with an older man in an immaculate uniform and… bunny ears? He blinked, forcing his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression. It was bound to happen at some point, but man was it tough to get used to whatever passed as ‘normal’ on this planet.

“Please, allow me to seat you.”

The steward brought them to a prime table near one of the large bay windows overlooking the academy grounds. “Now, good sirs, we do offer two dining options.”

He pointed to several tables with food arrayed on top. “We have here our banquet tables, where you may sate your hunger with a single tap of your tokens. Should you desire a more bespoke selection, I suggest you choose by the bill of fare. Each dish therein also requires a single tap of your tokens.” He produced several menus with a flourish. “Please, peruse at your leisure, and do let me know when you are ready to make your choice.”

As Callan stepped away, Henry picked up a menu. Identifying the banquet tables as their version of a buffet was simple enough, but... “Bill of fare?”

“Dishes by the bill of fare…” Dr. Anderson studied his menu. “À la carte,” he translated. “ If I’m not mistaken, the concept emerged in late 18th century France, right before Napoleon rose to power.”

Ron tapped his menu. “Sonarans kinda got a head start then, huh? Relatively speaking.”

The Doc glanced at the kitchen area. “Not altogether surprising, I suppose. Our restaurants require proper infrastructure, don’t they? Fridges, ovens, stoves, cooks, fresh provisions… the Sonarans seem to have found a way to circumvent the logistical challenges through their magic. I mean, it was rather easy cooking breakfast earlier, didn’t you find?”

“Though,” he said, flipping his menu around to point at the various entrees, “I suppose you’d be more interested in the offerings than a lecture on the Ancien Régime?”

Henry looked down at his own menu. “Huh.” The Doc was right. The first item on the list seemed normal enough: Fenwyrm filet, seared rare with garlac butter. The rest, not so much. “Grilled tharne tenderloin… what the hell is a tharne?

Ryan shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Sounds expensive as shit, though. And hell if it don’t sound mighty scrumptious right now.”

“Prolly something that’s gonna pop up on our Tier 7 test,” Ron said. “What else they got?”

Henry went down the list. “Sautéed skarth tail in spiced wine reduction, steamed bren in herbal broth, braised halgorn with mild moss-berry… compote? Grilled whillow steak, meat-stuffed corrick caps, and roasted grusk ribs with smoky lumir glaze. Well, at least I recognize a few things: wine, broth, ribs.”

A devious smirk grew on Ron’s face. Oh boy. “Meat-stuffed. Glaze.” He jabbed his elbow at Henry.

It was enough to earn a few snorts; Henry had to admit that. After sharing a good chuckle, he moved on, “Hey, looks like there’s a note at the bottom. About the buffet. Apparently, they’ve got griffin roast and fenwyrm stew.”

Isaac leaned back. “Griffin, huh? Didn’t we have that at the Guild? It was kinda cheap too, for a mythical creature.”

“Not so mythical ‘round these parts, I reckon. Wonder how it stacks up to the Guild’s stuff?” Ryan wondered.

Looking around, it was clear to Henry that the refectory was indeed fancy, but that alone wasn’t reason enough to be confident in the buffet. “Who knows? So… What do y’all think? À la carte or buffet?”

“Why not both?” Dr. Anderson proposed. “We can all get one dish, then hit the buffet. The servings don’t seem all too large.” He inclined his head toward a table beside them.

“Hm, alright then,” Henry said. “Guess I’ll go with skarth tail. Gotta be something like lobster, right?”

Ron scoffed, “Yeah, or scorpion.”

Henry frowned, realization hitting him. Ron was probably right; the name ‘skarth’ didn’t exactly evoke seafood. Even if it wasn’t some kind of crustacean, it had to be good if it was served to nobles, right?

Just as they finished making their selections, Callan returned. “Have you decided, good sirs?”

Henry nodded and relayed their order, adding, “And we’d like to visit the buffet afterward if that’s alright.”

Callan beamed, finishing his notes on a loose sheet of paper before pocketing it. “Most commendable choices. I shall attend to your selections forthwith. In the meantime, please, take your ease and explore the banquet tables at your leisure.”

Henry led the way to the buffet area, the rest of the team behind him. Up close, the spread was something else. The section was larger than he anticipated; they couldn’t really see past the pillars and walls from their seat by the window. At one end sat a massive roasted griffin, not crispy and crunchy, but still looking finger lickin’ good. On the other, a cauldron of fenwyrm stew bubbled away, smelling even better than it looked, if that really was the origin of the incredible aroma around them.

“Well holy hot damn,” Ryan muttered. “That’s a whole griffin.”

Ron grinned, grabbing a plate from a nearby table, “What, you thought they’d serve it in nuggets?”

Henry readied his own plate, stepping up to the griffin. A cook stood ready with a carving knife.

“What’s your pleasure, sir?” the cook asked.

Henry fought the urge to ask where Master Wayne was. “Uh, I’ll take a slice, please.”

The cook nodded, carving off a generous portion. “And of the crackling?”

Crackling? Like pork rinds? “Uh, sure. A bit of everything, I guess.”

As the cook piled his plate with cuts from other meats, Henry glanced over at his team. Ron stood behind him, waiting for his turn to be served. Isaac and Dr. Anderson seemed to be interested in the sides, while Ryan was already in the midst of ladling stew into a bowl.

Thanking the cook, Henry moved on to the sides and greens. He grabbed a second plate, eyeing a sign bearing the label ‘mashed roonets.’ Potato, potahto; why not? He spooned some of the roonets onto his plate, drizzling some rather normal-looking gravy on it. Then, he placed a small bowl of stew right in the center. The rest of his plate was dedicated to a strange salad and a couple of thirsk rolls – standard dinner rolls in all but name. And probably taste.

Plates loaded, Henry started to head back. It was a daunting task, trying not to spill anything – that is, until one of those golem-tray hybrids walked up to him. It stopped, the hollow in its torso at just the right height for his plate.

Huh, that was convenient. He hesitated for a second, then shrugged and set his plates in the golem’s chest cavity. A small rune on its surface briefly glowed blue – probably a sign of acknowledgment? Might as well place a glass of juice in there to save a trip. Setting down some sort of citrus drink, Henry followed close behind as it walked towards their table. He glanced back to see the others had caught on, their own plates and drinks nestled in golem-trays.

Once they reached the table, the golem reached into its chest with spindly fingers, delicately transferring the plates from its trays to the table. Henry couldn’t lie, it looked a bit odd despite its convenience – as if aesthetics were merely an afterthought. Couldn’t the Sonarans have at least made it a bit cuter, like the food delivery robots that roamed the Space Force Academy campus?

Ron finally arrived, and he didn’t seem to care even one bit. “Ay bruh,” he smiled as his own golem set his plates, “these things are lowkey neat. Like, look at that!”

He pointed at Ryan’s golem, which skillfully dodged a student pushing his chair back. It was obvious enough that whatever controlled each golem was intelligent – probably enough to perform most menial tasks and maybe kickstart an industrial revolution, whenever the Sonarans got around to that point.

Henry nodded, watching as his golem plodded away. “Yeah, they’re… something alright.”

“Mm, now this stew’s somethin’ alright,” Ryan said, already halfway through his bowl. “All respect to the cooks back home, but damn if this ain’t summa the best grub I ever had!”

“That good, huh?” Henry raised an eyebrow and reached for his spoon. He dipped it into his bowl. The moment it hit his tongue, he understood. “Well, shit.”

The flavors were intense, a perfect blend of savory and sweet. The meat – fenwyrm – was tender enough to melt in his mouth.

“Told ya,” Ryan said through a mouthful of food.

Meanwhile, Dr. Anderson speared a forkful of the alien salad, eyeing it for a moment before popping it in his mouth. He chewed, lips pursing in appreciation. “Not bad. Reminds me of seaweed salad, sorta. Bit sweeter, though.”

Isaac picked up a cautious portion from his plate. “Looks uh… radioactive.”

“Well, we haven’t turned into ghouls yet,” Henry shrugged. He took a bite of the salad, the strange vegetables blending with the creamy dressing. Despite looking like it’d taste similar to Caesar salad, it really did taste like seaweed salad. “Huh. He’s right.”

Then came the dish Henry ordered. The skarth tail was, as Ron had unfortunately guessed, more reminiscent of an arachnid than a crustacean – an unsettling sight, but one that a flavorful bite could easily dispel. It tasted about the same as a cooked lobster tail would, earthiness aside. Pretty good, actually. Interesting, even.

Just about as interesting as the textbook sitting on the table across, which depicted… ‘elemental particles?’

Isaac also noticed. “You see how scientific these guys are? Kinda crazy how they know about states of matter. Real impressive for a medieval society, huh?”

Dr. Anderson swallowed a bite of his meat-stuffed mushrooms. “It does make some sense, I suppose. Having that level of elemental control would’ve likely given them a cracking pace of discovery, wouldn’t it? I mean, being able to conjure rain or freeze a glass of water at will would rather simplify the experimental process.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed. “No waiting around for nature to do its thing. Must’ve given them a hell of a head start on understanding how stuff works. That and the Baranthurian ruins lying around.”

“They got a great mindset outta it too. I mean, shit, Kelmithus and his Earth Artillery? Imagine what he could do if he took some classes.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “Explosion magic enhanced by chemistry. Now that’d be something to see.”

Ryan set his finished plates aside, then asked, “Ya reckon they could whip up somethin’ even worse than that? I mean, they basically jumped a couple centuries ahead with them fridges. Would be fuckin’ crazy if they figured out magic nukes.”

Dr. Anderson shook his head. “Unlikely, to be honest. Magic, as we’ve seen it so far, seems to be rooted in manipulating natural processes. Fission, let alone fusion – well, that’s a rather different kettle of fish than casting a better fireball.”

“Plus,” Isaac added, “where would they even get fissile material to work with?”

“Good point,” Ryan said. He leaned back, eyebrows still furrowed. “Still, more firepower’s just that – more firepower. Reckon Command’s gonna wanna keep tabs on their little exchange.”

“Hey, speaking of keeping tabs,” Henry said, lowering his voice. He discreetly nodded toward a table past Ryan, near the banquet tables. “On Ryan’s six. Isn’t that the professor from yesterday?”

Ron glanced over. “Huh. Valtor ad Stron, right? Looks like he’s working on something.”

“Yeah,” Henry muttered. It wasn’t such a weird thing to see a professor eating at a dining hall, but something about this Valtor guy specifically seemed… unsettling. “Can’t make out what it is from here though.” Dr. Anderson’s seat had a better line of sight. Maybe he could…?

The Doc read his mind. “Appears to be some kind of map or diagram. He’s rather absorbed in it, but otherwise seems… perfectly normal.”

Ryan, his back to Valtor, kept his eyes on the team. “Worth checkin’ out?”

Henry considered. Was it worth it to trust his gut, even if it was likely to be nothing? Absolutely. And from the looks of everyone else, it seems they too had the same gut feelings. “Yeah. Imma grab some dessert, get a closer look.”

He stood up, stretching casually. “Anyone want anything while I’m up there?”

Isaac shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Ron held up a hand. “One of everything?”

Ryan and Dr. Anderson nodded, confirming the same.

Henry grinned. “Back in a sec.”

He made his way towards the dessert table, walking straight through. It was tempting to take a more roundabout path, try to get as much intel as possible, but he didn’t want to set off any alarms. As he passed by, he let his gaze drift over, trying not to be too obvious about it.

Well, it was certainly a map of the campus. Henry couldn’t make out all the details without stopping to stare, but he caught sight of markings around what looked like the arena, the Ancient Magic Studies building, and the Central Tower. Interesting… wasn’t that one of the areas they couldn’t access?

He forced himself to keep moving, grabbing a slice of some fruit tart from the dessert table. He lingered there for a moment, filling up the plates his team requested, and risked another glance at Valtor.

The professor remained still, still hunched over his map, scribbling notes in the margins while his food cooled beside him. Whatever he was planning, it was clear he didn’t want to be disturbed.

Henry headed back to the team, another golem in tow. Splitting the plates, he explained what he saw. “It’s a map of the campus alright. Couldn’t see everything, but he’s got notes all over it. Lotta markings around the restricted areas.”

Ryan swallowed his food. “Hm. Odd choice of buildings to focus on.”

“Could be nothing,” Ron offered. “Playing devil’s advocate, guy’s a new professor, right? Maybe he’s just trying to get his bearings.”

Isaac lowered his head, smirking in disbelief. “Really, on restricted areas?”

Dr. Anderson’s gaze drifted back to Valtor’s table. “Perhaps that’s where he teaches his classes or has his office? Though, I do share suspicion.” He turned back to Henry. “Think we should alter our plans for the day?”

Henry took a bite of his tart, chewing slowly. Damn was it absolutely scrumptious. “Not sure, but I’ll probably bring it up to Elwes later. Maybe she’ll have some insight.”

Cleaning up the last of his desserts, he waved to Callan and made a writing motion in the air, as if holding an invisible pen. As Dr. Anderson had mentioned, the concept of restaurants was probably new to the Sonaran Federation, but thankfully the steward understood.

The man approached with a thin stone tablet, runes centered around a token-shaped indentation. It didn’t look like it accepted Apple Pay, but it seemed intuitive enough. Henry pressed his token on the indentation twice, two mechanical clicks sounding as the payments locked in.

“Grammercy, sir,” Callan said, bowing his head slightly. “Did your repast content you? Was there aught in your service that might have been bettered?”

Henry glanced around the table, then back at Callan. “Everything was great, thanks.”

“I’m heartily glad to hear it. Would you require aught more ere you depart? A draught to go, perhaps?”

“No, we’re all set,” Henry replied, standing up. “Um, many thanks for your service.”

“Very well, sir. Fare you well,” Callan responded with a bow before moving on to attend to the next table.

As Henry exited the refectory, he checked his watch and paused just outside. “Meet back at the dorm at 1800?”

“Yup,” Ryan replied, the others nodding alongside him.

As they left to head to the library, Henry pulled out his map. He’d gotten all the major landmarks memorized, but just needed to be sure. He led the way to the Ancient Magic Studies building, Dr. Anderson close behind.

The interior of the buildings was a different story. This one was new to him, but fortunately there stood a directory out front. Though the place was big, the layout was straightforward enough – typical university design with wings and numbered rooms.

“Elwes’ lab should be just around the corner,” Henry said, reaching the third floor. “Room 3045.”

Henry knocked on the door.

A moment later, it opened to reveal Professor Elwes. “Ah, Captain Donnager, Dr. Anderson,” she greeted them. “Please, come in.”

“Ma’am,” Henry politely returned her greeting.

They stepped into the lab. It was larger than Henry expected, with several workbenches covered in papers and strange-looking mechanical objects that looked quite out of place in relation to everything else – Baranthurian artifacts. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with books and binders. Despite the clutter, the room had an organized feel to it. Lots of objects scattered around, but like any other lab he’d been to, they were definitely sorted.

“Welcome to my laboratory,” Elwes said, leading them toward a large central workbench. “My thanks for coming in today. I gather you’ve had quite the experience in the Grenden Forest Ruins. Kelmithus spoke of your discoveries when I last saw him.”

Henry nodded. There were lots of discoveries, actually, though probably not many that would be best to share with a relatively nascent civilization like the Sonarans’. Maybe once they’d developed some more trust, but then again, wasn’t this part of it? “It was pretty enjoyable, I gotta say. I assume you asked us here to take a look at some artifacts?”

“Indeed,” Elwes said, tone barely hiding her excitement. “I daresay, you shall find it most intriguing. We’ve recovered it from one of the Mirrowen Forest Ruins.”

She gestured to the workbench, where an assortment of almost-familiar tools and components lay scattered. At first glance, it looked like an old electrical workbench – probably the Baranthurian version of the one he’d seen in his grandfather’s garage. At least a few of the items were distinctly recognizable: wires, tweezers, crimpers, and other basic tools. “I’ve been studying this for weeks now. Might you gentlemen have any insights to offer?”

Henry and Dr. Anderson leaned in for a closer look. The objects were clearly ancient, with a patina of age, but their purpose was easy enough to deduce.

“Those from without oft bring fresh perspectives, and I surmise that your background renders your insights all the more distinctive,” Elwes continued.

“That it does, Professor,” Dr. Anderson said. “Though, I must admit, these materials are still as foreign to me as they are to you – basic tools aside.”

Elwes picked up a familiar tool. Wire strippers. The jaws were made of a dark material – likely voidstone, depending on what they were designed to be used on. Like most other Baranthurian tools they’d come across, this too was etched with tiny runes. These looked sturdy, built to last – though certainly not enough to survive several millennia. Some kind of preservation magic, probably. “You recognize these, then?”

“Yeah,” Henry said, picking up the tool. “These are wire strippers. They’re used to remove the insulation from electrical wires without damaging the metal core.”

Dr. Anderson leaned in, examining the tool closely. “Interesting. This definitely wasn’t handcrafted. Industrial-era manufacturing, perhaps? Jigs and specialized tooling, maybe even early milling machines. I’d put this around the 19th century, quite frankly.”

Elwes swiped a book from the desk and jotted down notes as quickly as the Doc spoke. She probably couldn’t understand half of what he was saying, but it didn’t seem to faze her. If anything, it emboldened her. Kinda reminded Henry of Kelmithus whenever he learned something… useful for spellcasting.

Henry moved on, picking up a strand of fine, golden wire.

She picked up what appeared to be a spool of that same wire. “You know of this wire? We believe this to be orichalcum wire, though its precise purpose, particularly in relation to these other tools, yet eludes us.”

It wasn’t exactly the size Henry had seen in the Grenden Forest, but it looked similar enough. “Yeah, we came across some of it. I recognize a lot of the stuff here, actually. But I’m curious, Professor – what else have you been able to determine so far?”

Elwes sighed, twirling her short hair. “Not as much as I would wish, I fear. We have identified a few items, yet others…” she trailed off, gesturing to a set of tubes that seemed too large for the wires.

Henry eyed the tubes. No way – heat shrink? Here? He then noticed a gun-like object nestled among the wires and tools. Looked almost like a heat gun, but with those runes etched into the grip… “What’s this one?” he asked, nodding towards it.

Elwes followed his gaze. “Ah, that.” She picked it up, applying mana to it. “The runes would have it generate heat, though for what end, we have yet to discern.”

Henry picked it up. Pulling out his token, he held it firmly against the rune. “Mind if I try something?”

At Elwes’ nod, he grabbed one of the larger tubes. “Doc, hold this end, would you?”

The doctor obliged, and Henry positioned the gun over the tube. A faint warmth emanated from the device as he squeezed the trigger. The tube began to shrink, conforming tightly to the wire beneath.

“Well, I’ll admit,” Dr. Anderson said, watching the tube shrink. “I didn’t expect that to work quite like that. Rather impressive.”

So it really was heat shrink tubing. Wasn’t that a recent innovation – around the Cold War? Henry frowned. Maybe the situation was akin to the fridge – magic let them skip a few steps, giving the Baranthurians a completely different, nonlinear tech progression.

Seeing Elwes’ confused look, Henry explained, “It’s for insulating and protecting wire connections. Slide the tube over, apply heat, and it shrinks to fit.”

Elwes nodded, jotting notes in her book. “This certainly fills in some gaps in our understanding. Might I ask, what necessity lies in the insulation?”

Would it be alright to explain Ohm’s law and electrical safety? It’s not like they had a Prime Directive anyway. Fuck it, some insights couldn’t hurt if it at least built some trust. “It’s pretty damn important,” Henry said, gesturing to the exposed ends of the wire. “Keeps your wires from shorting out and starting fires, for one. Electricity’s not exactly forgiving when it goes where it shouldn’t. I’m guessing the same applies to mana.”

He paused, then added, “Also helps maintain the integrity of your circuits and prevents energy loss. You want your electricity, mana, whatever, going where it’s supposed to, not leaking out along the way. Though, I suppose all this depends on how much you know about electrical theory, and how accurate it is when mana’s involved.”

Elwes set her book down. “Studies of the Baranthurians have afforded us some understanding, though your knowledge proves far more enlightening. I daresay, much of what you’ve shared is beyond our current grasp.”

“Really? How far along are you in your understanding?” Dr. Anderson asked.

“We’ve had some success with recreating basic circuits,” Elwes answered, bringing them over to another workbench. “Light sources and simple motors as well, though nothing beyond the most elementary functions. Admittedly, these are but crude replications of what we’ve collected from their ruins.”

Henry tilted his head. Not bad, considering the leaps they had to make without knowing the basic principles. He glanced at the workbench again, taking in the replicated tech. “Crude, but headway nonetheless. Anyone else working on it? Other kingdoms or empires, I mean.”

Elwes nodded. “Oh, certainly. Elusive as they are, Baranthurian relics have found their way into many a kingdom, each fiercely hoarding what little they possess. The technology they offer, especially their ancient weaponry, is most coveted.”

Dr. Anderson frowned. “Coveted enough to conduct espionage for?”

Elwes’ expression tightened, a sigh more than enough to answer the question. “We have had no shortage of challenges over the years. Nobian spies, of course. Their zeal for Baranthurian knowledge knows no bounds.”

“No kidding,” Henry muttered. It seemed the Nobians stopped at nothing short of all-out war for their goals. How far were they willing to go for Gatebuilder knowledge?

“It remains a constant concern,” Elwes continued. “Just last year, a new student was caught attempting to steal research notes. And that’s to say nothing of the efforts to bribe or coerce our researchers.”

Some things were the same across all worlds, it seemed.

“I imagine that puts a bit of a strain on international cooperation, doesn’t it?” the Doc asked.

“Ha! Cooperation? From the Nobians? A fantasy, at best,” Elwes said with a shake of her head. “As for other nations, the challenge lies in exchange. There’s nary a faction willing to share their knowledge; they all expect something in return. Even yourselves.”

“I won’t deny that,” Henry said, smiling. “As long as it’s a win-win, y’know?”

“Mutual benefit indeed,” Elwes echoed. She then paused, head tilting. “Though… Captain, I wonder what’s stirred your interest in secret intelligence? Some matter that’s come to your notice, perhaps?”

This was it. “Professor Valtor ad Stron,” he answered. “Something about him seems off.”

Elwes’ eyebrows raised slightly. Henry could barely tell, but it seemed hardly out of surprise. “Oh?”

“When we first arrived, I noticed him acting a bit suspiciously. Kept to himself, doing who knows what in the arena. Watching us. And just today at lunch, we spotted him working on something – a school map. Had notes all over. Circled the arena, this building, and the central tower.”

Elwes crossed her arms. “Hmm… Valtor is new, having joined us scarce a term ago. Though he satisfied our inquiries at the time, I daresay he still seemed… well...”

“Could be nothing,” Henry admitted. “He’s new, maybe just familiarizing himself with the campus. But given what you’ve told us about Nobian spies, I thought it might be worth mentioning.”

“Thank you, Captain, for apprising me of this. I’ll make quiet inquiry into the matter. We cannot suffer potential Nobian spies to be privy to our research.”

“What about Dean Lyrus?” Dr. Anderson mentioned. “Shouldn’t he also be informed?”

Elwes sighed. “Lyrus can be… trying. He’ll not stir without solid evidence. I’d prefer to collect more evidence ere I lay this before him.”

“Alright, then. We’ll let you know if we come across anything new.” Henry glanced back at the workbench with the Baranthurian electronics. Manatronics? “And thanks for showing us all this, Professor. It’s given us… a lot to think about.”

Elwes offered a soft smile, glancing at Dr. Anderson as she responded, “I am pleased it proved stimulating. Intellectually, of course.” She cleared her throat. “There remains much to uncover. Might we not take up this discourse again, when you’re next free?”

Dr. Anderson smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yes, I’ll see about clearing my schedule. I shouldn’t like to miss an opportunity to be stimulated… Intellectually, of course.”

Henry and Dr. Anderson bade farewell to Elwes, leaving the lab to link back up with the others. Apparently, they'd found a book about Guild tests. The best part about it? It contained everything they needed. Everything from old Tier 1 quest pools to Tier 9 written exams were lumped into the book - Quizlet in another world. They definitely wouldn't have found this anywhere else. Hooray for... noble academy privileges?

The rest of the afternoon flew by as they pored over the book, jotting down notes, listing down all the Tier 7 and Tier 7-adjacent monsters that could pop up on the real test. All the other test subjects – alchemy, biology, geography, local geopolitics, and even math – were for other days. Not that any of them would need to take a look at math, though. Actually, a quick skim would suffice – in case the Guild threw anything crazy at them.

Dinner was a lax affair; lots of food to try and lots of info to process. They ate at Carfley again, comparing the food to Central while catching up on the Baranthurian tech, Elwes’ reaction to Valtor, and now this goldmine of Guild test info. At the very least, everyone was still on the same page about the new professor’s vibe. And the incredible taste of the Tier 7 River Taska filets.

Returning to their apartment, everyone else settled in, cracking open a cold not-Gatorade or sharing their pocket Chegg for another study session. Henry instead decided to relax a bit – take a nice comfortable bath.

Finally, after toweling off, Henry donned his home clothes and sat down at his desk for the highlight of the day: his video call with Sera. Opening his laptop, he initiated the call. After a few seconds, Sera’s face appeared on the screen, her hair slightly damp as if she’d just showered as well.

“Captainnnn, come to gauge my progress, have you?” Sera greeted him with a grin.

Henry returned her grin. “Yup. How are you holding up so far, Sera?”

“I fare well enough, Captain. Though I confess, the tedium of this ‘training’ is beginning to chafe already. Surely you’ll not have me sit through many more lectures as those of ‘protocols’?”

Henry chuckled. “Well, that depends. Have you familiarized yourself with them?”

“I suppose I should thank Sola for my gift of memory.” Sera briefly summarized her morning, recapping what she’d learned and where she’d gone. It reminded Henry of listening to a friend complain after having to deal with a Karen at work – though perhaps not quite as colorful.

Then, her expression flipped. “Ah, you know, I did chance upon some peculiar sights. Scarcely enough to whole banish tedium, mind you, but I daresay it was a sight better than naught.”

“Yeah? C’mon now, what could be more fun than a lecture on military structure?” Henry teased.

“Ha!” She waved her hand with playful disdain. “Mayhap I painted too dreary a picture. Well then, dear Captain, if you must know, I encountered one of those wondrous flying contraptions you spoke of: a ‘fighter jet,’ was it? Though I confess, it behaved most oddly, nary a white like your descriptions. It moved more like… a ‘helicopter,’ though lacking rotors. Kovács called it a ‘thirty-five’ or some such befuddling nonsense.”

Huh, so Armstrong finally got them? F-35Bs were a curious choice, though it did make some sense given the lack of a fully developed runway, and the fact that they didn’t have any harriers on hand. “Ah, an F-35B?”

“Indeed, that very one. Oh, its mere visage! No doubt it would give even dragons pause. And those tanks you spoke of! Why, they were larger than I fancied. I scarce thought to behold a contraption more imposing than your UGVs. Alas, I stand corrected.”

Henry smiled. “Anything else stand out?”

“Well, we had lunch. They presented a curious fare called a ‘cheeseburger,’ though made with Rillifane meat and cav cheese. It was possibly among the best dishes to ever grace my palate.”

Damn. Rillifane cheeseburgers? Of all the things he could have missed, it had to be this. And the way Sera described it - fuck, his mouth was already starting to water. "Aw, man," he said, deflating.

"Oh, it was truly a delicacy to behold!" Sera pressed. "Why, such a dish might grace the royal table itself!" Henry shook his head; Sera was having way too much fun with this. "But surely, you've had your own wonders at the academy?"

“Ehh, I guess. Ain’t gonna lie, everything was top notch. I was just hoping to try that burger.”

“Well now, perhaps we ought to hunt another rillifane when next we meet?”

Henry felt his stomach growl at the mere thought. “Hah. By the time you’re done with the courses, you’ll probably be able to hunt a whole pack solo.”

“Why, if O’Connor’s words hold true, I might master such a feat ere long. Oh, you should have seen his face during training! It was a sight to behold.”

“Yeah?”

“O’Connor sought to gauge my mettle, so we began with basic tests: running, push-ups, that manner of thing. He bade me perform each twice – first with magic, then without.”

This must be good. Sergeant O’Connor was a recent name, having popped up right after they got back from GB-2. That meant he’d yet to see all Gaerra had to offer. “How’d it go?”

“Well, with magic… it would be fair to say I might have bested a few standing marks,” Sera said, her lips curling into a prideful smile. “O’Connor dropped his clipboard and regarded me as though he’d never witnessed magic before! Wait… maybe he truly hadn’t. Anyway, despite his initial shock, he showed keener interest in my feats unaided.”

“Huh,” Henry said. Come to think of it, he’d never seen Sera’s limit without magic. Hell, he’d never seen her function without magic at all. “And how was that?”

“Fair enough, I’d say,” Sera replied. “It has been ages since I’ve trained sans magic, but we did our share of such during knighthood training. O’Connor supposes I’ve a solid foundation already.”

Henry nodded. “That’s good. Anything surprise you about the tests?”

“Naught of note, truly. At present, I await the Sergeant’s judgment; he spoke of needing a couple days to craft a curriculum for me. I know not what to expect.”

"Hmm, going off what you told me, I'm guessing he'll put you through a simplified course since you already have a hang of all the basics. In any case, I'm glad you're enjoying things so far.” Henry felt a nefarious smirk creep up. “Since you're faring well enough, maybe we gotta toss in some more lectures..."

“Oh, spare me your lectures, Captain,” Sera laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’d sooner wrestle a chimera than endure another of your droning discourses on military minutiae. Mayhap I should school you in the finer points of courtly etiquette, hmm? I wager you’d be begging for mercy ere we finished discussing the proper way to address a viscount’s third cousin twice removed.”

Well, that was a concerning thought. It was probably just Sera’s usual sarcasm, but… “Is that… really a thing?” Henry asked.

“Mercy me,” she giggled, shaking her head. “Of course not! Well, not precisely as I’ve put it, at any rate. Though I daresay some of the actual rules of etiquette are scarcely less absurd. Why, I once saw a minor lord throw an absolute fit over being seated three chairs too far from the salt at a banquet. Can you imagine?”

Henry raised an eyebrow. At this point, he couldn’t even tell what was real. Hopefully that was something the Doc could handle instead. “Yeah, uh… I’ll take your word for it.”

“Why, you never know when such knowledge might prove vital! Imagine encountering some baron’s insufferable whelp on campus. Oh, you’d be utterly lost!” Sera clutched her heart, wallowing like a distraught Juliet in the shadow of Romeo’s demise. “The scandal, the social ruin – oh, the abject calamity of it all!”

“Fuck, that’d be a nightmare,” Henry laughed. “Doubt it’ll happen, anyway. It’s been nice and boring so far over here. Toured the battlemage training complex, had lunch, met with one of Kelmithus’ friends. Professor Elwes. Ring any bells?”

Sera stared up as she thought. “Hm, I’ve heard the name.”

“Yeah, so she showed us some Baranthurian tech. Electronics, actually. Wanted to get our opinion.”

Electronics?” Sera cocked her head. “Like this computer?” She pointed a finger at the camera.

“Kinda. It was real basic stuff. Nothing compared to what we’ve got, but still impressive for their time. Maybe you’ll learn about it in your science lectures next week.”

Sera frowned. “More lectures?”

“Ah, you’ll like these ones. Trust,” Henry reassured her. If anything, it’d be because they could literally upgrade her magic. “They’re more… uh, practical. You can ask Kelmithus. A few books and friendly chats with our scientists and bam! He’s Tier 9.”

Sera smiled at the prospect. It was an easy sell. “Now that piques my interest most thoroughly.”

“Say,” Henry said, recalling the rest of his discussion with Elwes, “Have you ever heard of a Valtor ad Stron?”

Sera paused, thinking.

“Nah? No bells?”

Sera shook her head.

“Hm, that’s odd,” Henry mused. “Guy’s a professor at the Academy. Teaches advanced combat magic and tactics or something. He’s filling in for some of Kelmithus’ classes.”

Sera furrowed her brow. “How odd… While I shan’t claim acquaintance with every noble lineage, I have never heard of ‘ad Stron’ at all. And an advanced combat magic professor? Surely such a personage would have garnered at least some whispers.”

The more he learned about Valtor, the more suspicious he seemed. Was it just confirmation bias, or the realization of what his instincts had been hinting at? “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Elwes seemed pretty concerned as well.”

Sera leaned closer to the screen. “Have you told Kelmithus about this?”

“Not yet. Still working on my report for the General. Could you relay the message?”

“Of course,” she confirmed. Then she smirked. “Why, look at you, already neck-deep in academy intrigue. And here I thought I’d be the one having all the adventures.”

Henry waved his hand dismissively. “Pfft. This is more like… murder mystery type shit. I’d much prefer a good ol’ dungeon crawl.”

“A man after my own heart,” Sera approved. “Yes, there’s naught quite like a good dungeon crawl.”

“Yeah,” Henry chuckled. “So, same time tomorrow?”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it,” Sera responded. “Goodnight, Henry.”

Henry smiled warmly. Wait, was it his smile that was warm, or the blood rushing through his cheeks? “Goodnight, Sera.”