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Chapter 38 - For the Record
🕑 Added 2023-12-30 01:50:40 +0000 UTCAfter another un-exciting… uhh excitingless… exciteless? What’s the word?
(Boring, maybe uninteresting?) Nyx offers.
Sure, we’ll go with that. After another uninteresting night spent moving the nightstand in and out of my dimensional storage, my paladin’s morning alarm finally makes a racket, and she leaps out of bed to turn it off.
“Good morning,” I say. She turns and gives me a groggy smile for a moment before her wits catch up and she takes a sharp breath. “You wake slowly. You should stop trying to hide it, everybody knows.”
“Oh,” she replies, rubbing her eyes.
I dematerialize enough to float up from the bed and drift to stand, then use my dimensional storage to swap between my pajamas and daily wear, and then look at her expectantly. Yeah, she’s definitely still asleep.
I wave one hand in her face and say, “Your turn. Show me.”
“A-ah?” she sputters. I’m getting used to this. Her quirks, I mean. She backs away until she bumps into the dresser – a piece of furniture we definitely don’t need, but she insisted we have – and then starts tugging at her clothes as though she’s going to strip, eyes locked on me and starting to blush.
“No, no. Not that,” I dismiss. “Dimensional storage. I showed you how to change with your dimensional storage. Show me.”
…
We’re getting nowhere here.
“Fine, I’ll turn around. Or should I leave the room?”
“No! You don’t have to… f-fine, just… turn around, then,” she finally says.
My patience is waning.
(She’s a fragile maiden, you know. Despite the armor. Give her time, she’s not used to this,) my Assistant interjects.
Yeah, I know. Human things. I’m pretty sure you all were born naked too. Whatever.
I say nothing and turn around. I put both hands behind my head and arch my back so I’m looking where the wall meets the ceiling, a habit I picked up from… somewhere. I’m not really sure where. Behind me, I hear the sounds of Izahne flailing and her clothing hitting the ground.
I lightly sigh. “I’m guessing you need more practice?”
Other than a muffled “mmph”, she doesn’t answer, but I give her a few moments to reassemble herself. After a while of rustling fabric, I feel her tug at the edge of my uniform jacket.
“Good then? Good.”
“Yes, I’m good.” Ah, she’s finally found her voice. Her eyes aren’t clouded over with sleep either. Mostly.
I wait for the others to feed themselves. Omorth seems to have taken over cooking duties entirely, a task he once shared with our former rogue.
“I told you, I can help with that!” Pearl shouts, waving her hands in the air for some reason.
The big human just smiles and says, “You know that’s a terrible idea. You experiment, even more than Abaris.”
“What!? The recipes are boring though!”
I’m starting to develop appreciation for the barbarian’s level of patience.
But he just keeps smiling that placid smile of his. “Recipes exist for the same reason as spells, to ensure an expected result.”
Abaris appears to be watching them from the corner of his eye, though otherwise focuses on that tea he always brews in the morning. I’m not sure what it is, he hasn’t said and I haven’t cared enough to ask.
Meanwhile, my paladin is chewing on a piece of burnt bread again. I’ve noticed she seems to have a taste for it without anything on it, but I’m not sure which is the strange one – her for plain burnt bread or Pearl for burnt bread slathered with enough brightly colored sticky stuff to coat her body.
When the party finishes feeding themselves, Omorth asks me to gather the belongings from Elobahn’s former room since my dimensional storage is the largest of the group – especially since it’s been growing due to my nightly practice.
Nyx chuckles. (Do you understand irony?)
Nope. Something about metals?
(I swear, I have no idea what you do and don’t recognize. There’s no pattern to it,) she says with a sigh.
I’d say I’ve gotten used to it, but considering it’s all I’ve ever known, it wouldn’t be saying much.
Anyway, it doesn’t take me long to fit the academy furniture in my storage, and after everyone does a brief check that they’re not forgetting anything, we leave my lair.
The walk to the transport terminal doesn’t take long, and the line to travel planes is similarly short. The party chatters about inconsequential things, what Nyx calls ‘small talk’. I mostly don’t participate unless they ask me something directly.
Like when Abaris randomly asks, “Do you have plans for the use of your home’s upper floor?”
“No.”
Ah, maybe he was expecting a longer answer.
“Not at present. Nyx used to keep most of her equipment in storage devices, so if I understand right she only used the space when she was actually working on projects.”
(Yes, that’s right,) my Assistant confirms. (Good to know you do listen sometimes.)
Must you?
(YES! I’ve literally got nothing else to do! This is the most boring job I’ve ever had, and I was an apprentice once! Polishing runesteel is boring!)
Okay, sure, I believe you.
I opt to ignore her further sulking and instead look around and… huh. It seems an awful lot like the crowds are less crowdy today… or, at least near us…
Wait.
“Hey, can everyone around us see my identify?” I ask no one in particular.
Abaris chuckles, and Izahne simply says, “Yes.”
“Red with a nasty aura of malevolence!” Pearl adds.
Aha.
“So that’s why people are avoiding us?” I posit.
“Definitely,” my paladin says.
This could be a problem. Don’t get me wrong, I could probably consume most of th-th-rgh! Come on! I’m thinking defensively! Defensively! This is obnoxious!
I sigh a cloud of fine ash. Oh, hey, it has little red sparkles in it, that’s new.
When we arrive at the academy, we scatter in the directions of our respective classes. I never really noticed before, but they all go in different directions entirely.
(It’s probably broken up by Class or Magic Affinity.)
Fair enough.
I’ve already got everything I need in my dimensional storage, along with Izahne’s since her storage is so much smaller. We make our way to my first lecture, what I like to call boring 101. Yesterday my paladin spent the entire time between looking bored and poking me if I looked like I wasn’t paying attention, and then whispering that it’s important. Whatever.
The rest of the day goes much the same. Boring, pay attention, the humans need to eat now, more boring. We’re starting toward my fifth lecture, last of the day, when a bird made of paper flies directly into my face and then hovers in front of me.
“Paper messenger. You should read it,” my paladin informs me.
I take it out of the air, and as soon as I have a solid grasp on it, it unfolds itself into a sheet of paper rolled like a parchment. It has a wax seal with a rabbit on it. Why did he bother sealing it if it was a folded up or whatever paper bird thing? Who’s going to see what’s on it if –
(It’s so the recipient can confirm the sender. Idiot.)
Oh.
Anyway, I break the seal and read the contents. It’s obviously a missive from the headmaster, considering the seal. Looks like it’s to inform me that he’s going to call an assembly to –
I’m interrupted by a thought transmission. From the look of the other students, they’re all receiving it too.
“Good afternoon, students and staff. In an effort to keep all present properly informed, I am calling an assembly. Please report to the west arena in an orderly manner. Thank you.”
There’s even a little tone of some kind at the end.
Huh. Why did he bother sending me the bird thing if he was just going to do a thought transmission? I’m missing something. So, I look at the page again.
My foolish student,
This afternoon I will be calling for a general assembly. I will expect you to arrive in a timely manner.
Okay, sure, but he already told me that. I keep reading.
As a result of my recent decisions, I have been repeatedly approached by concerned parties regarding your presence.
Did he just say he screwed up?
I will be presenting you to the staff and student body. Ensure that you remain presentable.
- Headmaster Owyn
Hmm, hmm. It’s good he told me this.
(So you can prepare?)
No, that he has a name. Everyone just calls him headmaster, headmaster, the headmaster this or that or the other thing.
