(I) Campus

-Master Vera Lowe, Phoenix Academy Aluma210 (I)

Campus

Even after arriving at the Jump Tower, it still took a while for Irons and Shiv to reach the university. Along the way, the Deathless noted some very interesting features in the surrounding communities.

They were much further away from Flame Crown Castle and the Yellowstone Supervolcano now. A dense net of mana keeping the prisoners suppressed could be barely seen over the horizon, shimmering like a distant conflagration in the night. The people here were also unburdened by fear. Much like the worshipers at the morgue, they continued on with their lives and laughed and lived with such lightness that it took Shiv by surprise.

Most buildings in this district were flatter and wider here. They were mostly residential, and Shiv counted one mini-mansion after another. That was already enough to convince him that he was in a place festering with nobility, but that wasn't all. There were also charging stations on the street, large electric slabs with two jutting prongs meant to provide any passing automata with all the sustenance they needed, free of charge. The pavement was clean, the grass even greener, the flowers ever brighter, their fragrance practically euphoric. Even the air tasted crisper, to the point where one could get addicted to breathing it in.

Between the mansions were larger complexes. Some of them were malls, places where countless shops were clustered together. These complexes were multi-story, with bridges running in between and people, so many people, clustered within. In fact, there were more people out and about around here than there were in Blackedge.

Aside from the malls, there were also playgrounds where children wrestled and play-fought without any hint of worry. Beside the obstacle courses, there were junior marksman ranges where anyone was free to demonstrate their skills in daily competitions or monthly tournaments, as denoted by signs, open-air wrestling rings for casual sparring, and racetracks running in long paths behind the mansions.

Then there were cafés of all sorts on the ground floor. Tables and chairs lined the outsides of these establishments, with Pathbearers debating each other about the news or current events between exchanges about popular philosophies or other esoteric ideals.

As Shiv looked to his left, he saw a child wrestling with a brutally built automaton, trying to push it beyond the limits of the ring. To his right, the rich aroma of coffee and tea mingled as the ceaseless clamor of clicking tongues and echoing speakers filled the air. On the second level of these cafés were study halls.

Shiv saw Pathbearers seated before wide windows, looking outside with a mug to their right and a mess of documents sprawled before them. They worked, they read, and they incubated their life of physical and emotional leisure, leveraging this cushion for intellectual rigor.

And then, something else struck him. There were so many children here, and so many new mothers. Diminutive bots and toddlers chased each other without care, giggling as their families looked on. The adults here gave off an air of privilege and authority. More than a few of the Pathbearers were Masters, and they made it known through the breadth and density of their mana fields. Some were clad in heavy armor, their regalia expensive, their weapons decorated with crusted gems or delicate relics. Such was the show of will, wealth, and skill.

But it was also a level of opulence he found off-putting. He had known wealthy Pathbearers in Blackedge, and they'd left a sour taste in his mouth with their habits, the way they felt entitled to everything they wanted, and how demented their appetites had become.

He despised them for their softness, because just as a Pathbearer could adapt to extreme violence and struggle, without it, they grew weaker, they grew fragile.

And the very idea of weakness filled Shiv with .

Such was what he learned working at the Swan-Eating Toad. There had been Master-Tier warriors there too. They came in demanding every meal possible, complaining about the smallest details, throwing their thorny, impassive exploits around as if a hammer to wield against the servers. Georges hated them, and because of that, Shiv inherited the same loathing. He hated them for the way they acted, for how fat they got after years of supposedly being specimens sculpted for performance in war.

But there was a difference between the wealthy and privileged at Blackedge and in the Capitol. Here, few were so decayed. Arrogant, yes; the stench of entitlement remained. But they all clung to that aesthetic of the battle-ready Pathbearer, of the wise and all-knowing scholar, of the faithful acolyte.

"This is the reward for many people," Irons said. Shiv looked at the Captain and noticed how the man spoke without looking at him. Instead, Irons had his eye on the same things he did: the people, the children, the houses. Shiv felt like the man also saw them, but perhaps in a different way, perhaps for different reasons.

"You don't like this much either, huh?" Shiv asked. It was a question meant to provoke a response so that he could drag out more of the man's personality.

The Captain didn't answer for a while, and then he simply sighed. "No, I have no issue with them. I simply think they're wrong."

"About what?" Shiv asked.

"They think they've earned a final reward. They think it's over."

"That what's over?" Shiv continued, probing.

"They think they've ." Irons finally turned to look at him. "But I know there is no victory. There is no 'done.' You have to keep going. If you don't—”

“Eventually, the world eats you." Shiv finished his thought. “It's because they have too much.”

Iron frowned. "Too much of what? Wealth? Leisure?"

"No, peace. Nothing's attacking them. Nothing's tearing into them. The System isn't forcing them into another ugly brawl." Shiv sighed, but it was a half-hearted one. Despite feeling envy for what these people had, all the leisure they got to experience, he had the weight of arrogance and privilege of his own. He couldn't be struck down, and he enjoyed the battle. He enjoyed struggling; he enjoyed hardship. And if these people fought the war to flee from effort, then he would enjoy telling himself that they were weak.

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Psycho-Cartography:

They continued on through the academy district. More houses, more bazaars and malls, more schools, more clubs, more cafés, more smiling faces, the shoulders below them loose, devoid of tension, empty of stress. The people here were living in a different world.

It was not long until they arrived at the front gates of Phoenix Academy. To call it vast was a woeful understatement. The shadows crawled over Shiv long before the fullness of the walls even came into sight. It was like standing at the foot of a mountain that rose at a 90-degree angle.

There were turrets sticking out from the wall in a regular pattern, as well as non-human observers gliding along its length, scouring the land for any unseen threats. But among the Divination dimensionals, there were students, automatons, and Prismatic Guards.

He was close enough to also feel the overwhelming mana flooding out from the layered spells coiling around the academy. A storm of crashing hail bombarded the academy grounds, and large chunks of ice fell in a brutal downpour. There were still students that dared to take flight through the air, dodging and weaving between the projectiles.

The heavy front gates to the Phoenix Academy loomed open, the gateway running twenty meters wide and twice again as tall. Right above, there was a vast face carved of stone carved into the wall, with eyes made from gliding focus crystals that channeled floodlight beams of Divination onto the ground, sweeping through every path that flowed beneath. The traffic flowing in and out of the academy was crippled right now, with barely more than a few students coming out and a singular convoy of what seemed to be hungover students currently staggering back in.

The sound of heavy bells ringing let out a trailing jingle that began at an extreme pitch, squealing high before it skated down to a drumming low.

"Evening approaches," the stone face carved into the canopy walls rumbled, its voice that of a collapsing landslide. "Do not be late for your classes, and do not be fools either. For if you slip away from your classes, you deprive yourself of growth, of becoming the Pathbearers you were destined to be."

"You tell 'em, Scowl!" one of the drunken students called out. Shiv looked at her as she threw her head back and laughed. A series of hiccups escaped from her, and she stumbled, nearly tripping on her own trailing robe, before two of her friends caught her, almost falling over themselves as they did.

She wore an updated uniform compared to the one Shiv had on earlier. Her boots were more polished, fitted with a set of slacks, and she had a long and flowing skirt pinned with clattering badges, buttons, and glistening elixirs. Then there was her coat. It flowed in three parts, with blue streams of fabric trailing off her side, and then black and gold. A wide, vertical line that lined her back was decorated with the representation of a woman holding a vial high while aiming a strange implement that seemed to be a tuning fork. Shiv recalled seeing her among the Ascedants in the Rubix Well.

Shiv reactively shifted his position, placing Irons between him and the drunken idiot, seeing that the cult of Maiden ran deep even in the academy.

"Oh, Captain Irons!" the large stone face said cheerily, its demeanor shifting in an instant. "You've returned, and with a new face in tow. Who is that, I must ask? An acolyte of the Genius?"

"New student," Irons said without raising his voice, and suddenly the scowling being carved above the massive gate let out a booming laugh.

"Another one! Good, good! The more nested behind these walls, the better! I welcome you, sproutling, to Phoenix Academy. Your journey has likely been long, and your struggles must have been grave. I congratulate you. Though know that they were only the beginning, so steel yourself."

"Yeah, uh, sure," Shiv said, not sure how he was supposed to respond to the stone-faced entity. He leaned in closer to Irons. "What is that thing, anyway?"

"This 'thing' here?" the stone face asked, interjecting without any hint of offense. "I am simply the awakened spirit that guards this great place's exterior. I am what happens when a masterful craftsman erects glorious structures, and when those structures are imbued with enough investiture and mana over the course of use. Like a cauldron brewing a medicinal concoction, I dreamed, then I thought, and thus I became."

"Huh. Wait, so walls can awaken just like weapons do?"

"Of course," the stone face replied. "Walls can also be excellent at hearing and possess high levels of awareness. You must be very new here, at the heart of our civilization, to lack this knowledge."

Shiv had no idea what the wall was getting at, and reading the confusion on his face, the strange being that wasn't entirely a wall elaborated. "Before Phoenix Academy was an academy..."

"Oh, here we go again: the illustrious military history rehash," a heavily armed and only moderately drunk student drawled, making a show of stifling a yawn. Between his flapping coat, Shiv saw the glint of reinforced steel armor and a partially rusted broadsword swinging from his hip. "Love hearing it every other day, Scowl."

The stone face’s violet gaze fell on the student, its expression flinty. "In that case, you might also like it when I tell your beloved Clarice about the other girl I saw you wanderin' around with, Vincent."

The armored student choked and straightened his back. "...Doesn't mean I can't listen to it every other day!" he finally managed.

“Then I will be glad to remind you once more," the stone face continued. "Before Phoenix Academy was an academy, it was a fortress, the first of its kind, meant to protect the outskirts of the then-nascent Yellowstone City. It was a harsh age then, with threats coming from all sides. Mutants from the north, the scarred ones from the south, monsters from all corners, from the skies, from the seas. We were besieged constantly. And so, the Ascendants, only recently made gods, were in need of instruments—natural, unnatural, or in-between—to support their efforts. And I was one such wonder.”

Shiv noted that the stone face spoke with no small hint of pride, and he was interested in hearing what it had to say.

"Between Enoch's brawn and Maiden's genius, I was constructed to serve as not only an all-seeing set of walls to guard any Pathbearer that passes by from invisible threats, hidden foes, and circumspect circumstances, for in dire circumstances, I was also meant to serve as a mighty shield, wielded by Halsur's blunt blows that could flatten the entirety of the horizon."

Then the stone-faced thing laughed. "Against the Storm King's minions, I endured. Against the Phoenix of the inner flame, I prevailed. Though my stone melted, and though I gained many scars, I grew until finally I grew thoughts. And thus I was, and I remain still."

As the stone-faced guardian finished his boast, Shiv focused his Farsight on a crack in the wall and saw something that caught his attention: chains of divine spellstuff slipping through. Their shapes were minute, like breadcrumbs dotting the space within the stone of the academy walls, but they were there. The power of the Ascendants lurked here as well. he thought to himself. Then he jolted as he remembered he was supposed to be a new student who came from a far-flung place with lesser wonders.

"Whoa!" Shiv said, exaggerating the awe he felt.

"Indeed, student. Whoa." The stone guardian let out another booming laugh just as Shiv and Irons passed underneath the gate. "Anyhow, welcome to Phoenix Academy. I will get to know you in time, young one, and perhaps you will learn to understand me as well. But that depends on whether you wish to have a conversation with this old protector." The stone face sighed. "Quite a lonesome existence being bound here."

"Ignore him," Irons said flatly. Despite this, the corner of the man's lip twitched, and there was almost a smile on his face. "If you humor him as I did, you will eventually learn he can manipulate you into doing his bidding."

"Slander! Slander and lies!" the stonewall grumbled.

"He has a taste for opals, onyxes, and other precious gems. He will offer to tell you secrets if you feed him, but his secrets are mostly meaningless pieces of trivia and gossip."

An exaggeratedly offended gasp came from behind them. "Foul! Disingenuousness! You offend me, Captain Irons! Do not listen to him, student. He simply seeks to keep my favor bound only to him."

The Captain shook his head as they came out on the other side of the gate. Just then, a large piece of ice slammed down on the ground. It impacted with the force of a falling boulder, and a wave of explosive shrapnel tore through the air.

A few pieces bounced off Shiv's body. Irons didn't react at all, and neither did most of the other students. Some of them were flung off their feet, but rather than being injured, their bodies came aglow with mana, and ripples of Dynamancy bled out from them. They whooped in glee as they spun weightlessly through the air.

That was when Shiv felt the collective chain of spells lining the sky above him like a mess of interlocking constellations, imposing its will upon the earth and the students. The massive chunks of hail weren't falling without control. They were imbued with it, and every single person struck went flying to an exaggerated extent. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novelhall.com

A notification appeared before Shiv's eyes.

You are now within Phoenix Academy.

You are currently listed as an unknown guest.

Limited voting privileges and on-campus options assigned: Options unavailable