Chương 27: Chapter 25

The longer Shaya walked around campus, the more she forgot she was on Mount Arcadia. The residential quarter was tucked along the outer ring, divided into various sections by high walls and slate-locked gates. Over the walls, Shaya saw large trees growing within the districts and tall, stone-shaped hexagonal towers clustered together. The squat, box-like design reminded Shaya a little too much of a prison complex she had seen in the lower districts as a youth—luckily, only from the outside.

Deeper into the quarter, upon higher slopes of the plateau, she spotted towering manors and spires of various aesthetics, likely belonging to the professors the Academy employed full-time. Those she could make out from this distance ranged from humble to ostentatious, from inviting to foreboding. Shaya held up her student slate against a similar-looking plate built next to the gate to the district, and watched as mirrored glyphs glowed gold on each magical device.

Moments later, the glow intensified and the gate clicked, letting her push it open without resistance and step through. She turned to watch the gate, waiting for it to shut itself, but it didn't. She pushed the gates shut and there was another click as they locked, though she still tested the gates to make sure. Satisfied she hadn't breached any security protocols yet, Shaya walked deeper into the district, looking for the tenement that contained Lance Seven's apartments.

A main road of the mountain's red stone ran through the district, with smaller paths leading to buildings, yards, and parks. Many students still walked about despite the setting sun, with raucous sounds of merriment coming from a few of the buildings she passed. Looking closer, Shaya noted that more than a few of the students stumbled about in a drunken haze, taking her back to her orphan days in The Blight again.

Men and women called out to one another in embarrassing displays of "courtship," but none of them bothered Shaya. None of the people about took interest in her lack of divine blood and she assumed her lack of feminine or even strong masculine qualities meant she wasn't worth hitting on. That and many of the students were wearing clothing that showed off their qualities more than Shaya's ragged brigandine.

I don't think I've ever been so happy to be around drunk people, she thought to herself with a small smile, though it's probably a good thing Quill isn't with me. I can't imagine he'd tolerate drunk fools wanting to pet him. Him. How weird to think of Quill that way now. Finally, Shaya checked her map one last time, then turned down a small path toward her tenement composed of three connected hexagonal towers.

Her home for the next four years, along with the Lancemates she'd be working with closely for the same period. Shaya thought back to all the people who whispered about her as she walked through campus and hoped that no one in her Lance was like that. Just remember, more people took no notice of you than the other way around, Shaya, she reassured herself. Focus on the facts and not the negative points that stand out.

Her identification slate opened the front door to the building and a small plaque at the entrance told her that Lance Seven was housed on the upper floor, far end. Within the building, the walls were painted an off-white, with paint chipping and peeling—especially in the stairwell. Arrow-slit windows allowed some of the fading sunlight to enter the hallways and stairwells, providing Shaya's keen eyes enough light to move by.

She climbed the stairs two at a time, passed by one entrance and kept climbing until she reached the top floor. Long legs carried her across the hallway quickly, until she stood at a heavy wooden door. Her new home. With the most delightful scent of spiced, seared meat and roasted vegetables wafting through the door to her.

"Gods," she prayed, salivating, "please let there be enough for me too." After a moment of hesitation, Shaya decided to knock on the door, then unlock it with her slate. She stepped through without ducking, thankful that everything here seemed to accommodate people of her height and width. Shaya had imagined her living quarters to be a huge longhouse filled with bunk beds, foot lockers, and instructors screaming at hapless youth who failed to make their beds to perfection.

She was pleasantly surprised to discover she was very, very wrong. The entrance to her apartment was a large foyer, with a closet next to the door separated into six shelves. The apartment continued straight ahead into what appeared to be a large dining room, but also had a set of stairs on the right that led up to another floor to her unit.

"Welcome!" a large woman shouted as she trotted down the stairs. She was taller and broader than Shaya, her kitahm-blood not off-set by having a short, lithe parent. Her sleeveless white tunic showed off chiselled muscles and the heavy belt she wore helped accentuate a figure that still remained feminine despite the muscle on her. A pixie cut swept over part of her freckled, pale face, but her Astorian heritage turned the typical red hair associated with giant-blood into a metallic copper.

Green-blue eyes the colour of patinaed copper lit up when she noticed that Shaya likewise possessed giant-blood.

"Oh-ho! I'm glad I'm not the only kitahm on campus!" Shaya grinned back at the woman.

"Right back at you." She suppressed a pang of jealousy in favour of giant solidarity and extended a hand to her.

"Shaya Heirosoth, I'll be your Amber mage for our time together."

"Briariel Mathadro, Ruby mage, but everyone just calls me Bri." She clasped Shaya's forearm with a powerful grip. At this range, Shaya couldn't help but notice Briariel's bronze badge, marking the woman as a Second Circle mage.

"Glad to have you here, and for more than just your height! I'll give you a real quick tour, then you can get settled in before dinner. No offence, but you look exhausted." If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"I feel it too, believe me," Shaya said, following Bri into the next room. Beyond the entrance foyer, the main floor was a single large room that served as both dining room and—to Shaya's astonishment—a full kitchen. Shaya's nose drew her eyes into the kitchen first, following the overwhelming scent of delicious food.

A petite woman with a delicate build stood in front of the stove, wrapped in a white, silk robe with teal accents that contrasted against her full-bodied, deep purple hair that fell to below her waist.

"Shaya Heirosoth, I'd like to introduce you to Samorn Lakael, our Lance's Azurite mage." Samorn turned to look up at Shaya with ice-blue eyes. Angular features and sharp cheekbones cemented her as a nephilim of Cirithill—and not many generations removed from Her either. Despite busying herself in the kitchen, Samorn still wore make-up that drew the eye, but sun-tanned skin and a silver badge suggested she wasn't only here for domestic reasons.

A shy smile touched her full lips as she gave Shaya a formal curtsy with the quicksilver grace expected from a nephilim of her stock.

"Enchanted to make your acquaintance, Shaya."

"A pleasure," Shaya returned, bowing her head politely and looking like an ox in comparison to Samorn's smooth movements.

"I hope the food I'm smelling isn't one of your illusions, Samorn." Samorn's chuckle was as musical as her voice.

"It's quite real, I assure you. And I made sure to make extra in case you arrived today."

"Samorn's thoughtful that way," Bri added, turning Shaya's attention to the other person in the room.

"This is Shepherd, our Amethyst mage. They're also a chaplain of Vynderwynd, though hopefully you won't need their services any time soon." Shaya didn't miss the emphasis. Chaplain…I think they relinquish parts of their identity, like gender and name, to better shepherd spirits into the afterlife peacefully or something. I get people who choose to identify that way for personal reasons, but religious reasons? Well, to each their own.

"Just Shep is fine." They smiled up at Shaya, the emotion touching their scab-red eyes. While Samorn's face was angular in a pretty way, Shepherd's features were sharp as knives, giving their smile a sinister cast that didn't seem intended. They were short and wiry, with blue-grey skin and pure white hair cropped short in military style. Joints rippled unnaturally under their plain black robes, their silver badge standing in stark contrast against them, as they shook Shaya's hand.

Shaya grasped their forearm and was surprised at the strength behind the chaplain's grip, suppressing a shiver as she felt hands with one more knuckle than usual wrap entirely around her forearm despite the size difference between them. Shep's skin was warm to the touch and so thin Shaya could feel every muscle as she gripped them.

"I didn't realize Lythranians, especially those descended from Kassarah Themselves, would take up worship of Vynderwynd." But given that the first Kassarah was executed and one of Their bloodlines hunted into oblivion or exile, maybe it makes sense no one wants to revere Them.

"Oh," Shep replied, blushing a deep purple, "I am only a minor nephilim and, well, death can come for us all, no? Regardless of where you are from, it helps to beseech the Lord of Death and Time to ease that passage."

"Fair enough," Shaya replied.

"Can you set another seat for dinner, Shep?" Bri asked.

"Of course."

"Alright then, let's get you upstairs so you can settle in," Bri said, smiling again and walking past Shaya towards the stairs. Shaya gave Samorn and Shepherd a nod and followed her tour guide. The upper floor emphasized the hexagonal shape of the tower, with the small, central section illuminated by glowing orbs ensconced in iron cages. Around the edge of the room were seven doors—six bedrooms and their shared bathroom.

Most of the doors were open, except for two that stood across from one another, but Shaya could tell at a glance that the rooms were positioned just as the colour wheel: her Amber-marked door across from the closed Sapphire-marked door. The bathroom was open, with steam pouring out of it as someone took a hot shower. Shaya cocked her eyebrow at that, her ears twitching as she heard the water pressure behind the shower as well.

"Is the shower magic?"

"You wouldn't believe how magical it is," Bri laughed.

"It conjures water of whatever temperature you want and could scour a clay golem off you." Shaya could never have imagined something like that where she came from. But now that she could…

"That sounds like…the best use of magic ever."

"Well, let me show you to your room, then you can jump in there if you want." Bri walked towards one of the closed doors on the other side of the shower.

"There are multiple showers, though you may want to wait for Cyren to finish. He is… well, you'll see in a minute." Bri gestured to a magical plate next to the closed door and Shaya swiped her slate across it. She stepped into her room, slack-jawed. It was enormous, larger even than her room back in Kelahk. The four-poster bed was enormous, the wardrobe could contain more than ten times the clothing she owned, and armour and weapon racks even lined one half of the hexagonal room.

A large window let in the last rays of sunlight as dusk settled in and Nadrendir's moons rose into the sky.

"Gods…"

"Yeah," Bri said, patting her on the shoulder, "I had the same reaction. Don't worry about it, I'm pretty sure only Samorn and Oraeus conceivably downgraded here. Though," she continued, looking over her shoulder towards the bathroom again, "you have the poor fortune to share a wall with Ren." Shaya looked at her in confusion, then blushed.

"…Oh dear."

"Mhm." Bri crossed her arms as she leaned in Shaya's doorway.

"Feel free to settle in and get changed. I'll kick Ren out of the bathroom so you can freshen up without him around."

"That bad, eh?"

"Yup." Shaya closed the door after Bri left, dropping her pack on the bed. She took off her brigandine and set it on an armour rack, then unstrapped her sword and rested it upon a weapon rack. That done, she quickly changed out of her travelling clothes and put on a fresh tunic and breeches of black with red and gold trim. The tunic bore the Heirosoth heraldry, and she looked down at the rampant red gryphon gripping its three golden arrows with a smile.

"It's finally happening," she whispered with wonder in her voice.

"I need to send a letter back to everyone in Kelahk to let them know I arrived in… relative safety, at least." And everyone in my Lance seems so nice so far—this might not be so bad!