Tao Wong
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Aeres Academy - Chapter 17 preview
🕑 Added 2025-04-29 13:00:30 +0000 UTCAuthor Note: Preview chapters are rough/first drafts. These chapters have not been edited, expect that there may be errors - however, feel free to point out consistency issues!
For something I had been striving for two years and some uncounted days, the actual entrance into Aeres Academy was rather lackluster. In fact, other than the single welcoming statement, the woman offered no further congratulations. Instead, she got right down to business.
“Greetings, all. For those who might not know, I am Brianna Atem, head of the academy and final arbiter of any and all decisions about your career. Now, for those of you who need this reiterated – we are a delving academy. We are here to train you in the methods and manners required to survive a dungeon, and most importantly, to make the most of your time within. We believe that everyone is capable of becoming a delver, and thus train based off that principal. Which means that we put particular emphasis on your skills.”
She paused, waving a hand to the group of other teachers at the front of the hallway. “These are your teachers. You will be introduced to them in time, but if you are here, you likely know who they are by reputation. We are, most of all, a practical academy. At least once a week, you will delve the fault. At least once a day, when it reopens, you will spend time in the fault or dungeon, putting what you are taught into practice.
“There are no grades in Aeres. You either pass or you fail. But to help you judge your standing, these are winners of the Recruitment Day challenge:
“Rayzan, a legacy noviate whose hard training before the day brought him great success.”
Hard eyes swept the room and a finger pointed to a dark-haired boy standing right near the front, a good half a foot taller than me and thus towering over the class. He was built like, well, Christopher Reeves back when he was Superman. Broad in the shoulders, tapered waist, a massive wrestler’s build. He tilted his head up, the kid – barely twenty if a day – somehow managing to project arrogance with that simple motion.
“In second place, Kira, an astounding new Elementalist whose control of flame and knowledge of the fault allowed her to wipe out multiple swarms and has put dungeon recovery a whole day behind by herself.”
Kira flushed a little at that mention, the familiar redhead keeping her head low at being called out. To my surprise, there was a difference about her now as buzzing around her were three wisps, floating red embers that kept others at a healthy distance. The wisps burned and faded, but never went out, and even the boldest chose not to approach her.
“And finally, Bai Lin. A dark horse, whose story I’m sure many will be curious to hear.”
I shifted under the scrutiny, a little bit happy at having won my bet. A lot unhappier that I was so publicly signaled out, and even more that I was third. What had those two done?
“As you know, a session at the academy begins and ends with the turning of the core. Each turning is approximately twelve months long. There are, of course, seasonal variations but you will find that even with a longer period those months will never be enough.”
Around her, the other teachers were nodding. Professors, maybe? I was not entirely certain what they were called, or if the word had the same weight in Tionerth as professor did on Earth. There were not really any universities around, at least not in the twentieth and twenty-first century sense.
“—not be surprised, there are on-going fees. Every week, you will be expected to pay for your presence here. The cost, if you make use of our facilities and services including room and board, totals a core each week.” There were more than a few startled faces, some looking like they had swallowed a bug – Yorrick over there, the kid shaking his head– and others, happily nodding. Lady Fire was one of the happier members. “You may, if you find yourself unable to graduate at the end of one turning, stay for another without taking part in the registration process.”
Silence for a beat before she continued.
“But you will not get a third chance. We – Haeros, the academy – have no use for those who could not pass even with the advantages we provide.”
A cough by the side drew the woman’s attention and she frowned. She bent low, listened quickly to the fop and then straightened. “I’ve been told I should remind you of who I am.” Her hand twitched. “You might not know my name, but you might know my moniker. Seven Words.”
There was a minor susurration when her title was given, mostly from those who had not taken the time to study up on the academy. It still surprised me that even here, among the thirty or so who had graduated, there were a few idiots who had not looked up even this most basic piece of information.
Seven Words was her title. It was also her legend – that she had taken down the hundred-floor boss not with fists or steel or fire but with seven words. Just seven, and her legend had been born. The only real surprise was that she was here, in Aeres, rather than still delving.
“Your classes over the session will involve combat, skill mastery, monster, artifact and component crafting and identification and survival skills. Classes will rotate between academy and fault locations, on the traditional four-one, four-one basis until the week is over.”
Everyone was nodding along, though, of course, someone had to stick a hand up. It was a big beefy guy, the kind who had a thick layer of fat over well-developed muscles so that they would be described as stocky rather than muscular by many, and for the uninitiated, or your Saturday night drunks, someone worth picking on. Until, of course, they lifted you with one hand and threw you through a plate glass window.
“No crafting?” he rumbled.
“Take up those professions on your off-day. We’re a delving academy, not a craft one. If you’re looking to improve your professional skills, there’s others out there. There are even academies who have a more balanced rotation, but we’re not it.” Atem waited a beat, then raised an eyebrow. “Going?”
“No.” Mulish, the big guy crossed his arms.
I wondered if he – a blacksmith would be my guess with those arms – was going to be working every off-day or if he would take at least one off. The four working, one rest day rotation was the traditional set-up for this world, with two of them equaling a full week. Four weeks made a month, a full ten months a year. Made for just over four hundred days, with the balance of four fifths of a day saved over each year till the fifth year. At which point there was a five-day long holiday. I’d yet to experience one, though the next one was scheduled in two years.
“Two more things. Those of you intending to reside in our dorms, talk to an attendant. Food and drink and basic services are covered if you choose that route. If you do not have enough to pay for it now, you may pay for it on credit, though all earnings on delves will go to your debt first.” Another beat. “Lastly, because of the strain from this day to the fault ecology, the first week of classes will solely be held in the academy. Classes start at second bell and will be held at the arena.”
I mentally translated that time to around eight-thirty or so in the morning and winced. The way time was told in this world was via a system of bells and candles. First bell indicated the start of the day and rang when the sun rose. Ten bells for the day, equally apportioned by the amount of sunlight. Candles did the same, but for night.
It was not, of course, at all consistent – though the tilt of this world and subsequent seasons and amount of light we got was rather low compared to Earth. It’s why winter, when it did arrive, was so moderate comparatively and seasons relatively unvaried.
If they had just a little less of a tilt, they probably would have made their entire calendar system rotate around the turnings of the core below.
“Is that combat then?” Brand asked, speaking up from not too far ahead of me. I was not particularly surprised by his presence, not with the way he had been farming wasps. I did make note to speak with him after, though.
I had a bet to collect.
“Yes. Any other inane questions?” Atem asked, obviously ready to leave and less than enthused about the entire public speaking thing. A little amusing, considering her skill and her position, but who I was to comment. No one was asking me to talk to a bunch of strangers, many of whom had just spent the day fighting and killing and were looking just about ready to fall over.
Receiving no answer, she clapped her hands together. This time, it was not skill empowered, so while loud, it did not cause pain.
“Good. Then let’s eat.”
Not bothering to explain, she dropped off the podium and stalked for the doors, leaving the new noviates confused. It took another of the teachers, a tall, well-dressed fellow in a short cloak, blousy shirt, large floppy hat, and what I swore was mascara, to step up to the stage to explain things.
“There’s a feast for all noviates. Follow Seven Words and eat well. You’ll need it.” A slight hesitation, before he continued. “Just make sure to get your rooms sorted first. We don’t particularly enjoy stumbling over our new students in the morning just because they didn’t know how to hold their drink.”
So saying, he stepped off and joined the other teachers as they left the room. I admit, I had been expecting a little more formality. More paperwork. More ceremony. More, overall.
Then again, I guess, expecting Earth formalities and rituals was my fault. After all, I wasn’t in Kansas anymore, was I, Toto?
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Jonathan Griffith
Tyftc!
