《May He Be Forgiven, Please.》 A trip that ended as it begun There was no wind on the day Arthur had disappeared, there was no one to mourn him, no one to remember him, and 29 other had disappeared along with this anomaly. Arthur sighed for the umpteenth time today. He had been forced onto a school trip as a student of the acclaimed International Diplomatic Academy. But his situation wasn¡¯t like the others. Political Prisoner. A word foreign to most that attended. And yet it described Arthur Smith¡¯s situation with a flowery embroidery. He didn¡¯t have a choice in attending this prestigious school, and he didn¡¯t like it one bit. Arthur, sighing again, leaned against the bus window. ¡°Aw, cheer up buddy.¡± said a towering youth, who would¡¯ve been mistaken for a lumberjack in most settings, sitting to his side. He nudged Arthur a bit and flashed a bright white smile. Gustav was a fast friend of Arthur¡¯s and never seemed to leave his side. Even now when Arthur was mopping about at the back of the bus. ¡°The trip won¡¯t be nearly as bad if you embrace it just a bit.¡± said another youth, sitting off to the edge of their seat. Jeanne, another student of the school, but not a member of their class. He had been put onto their bus when his original bus overfilled and had opted to sit next to the only people he knew. Sitting only one seat ahead of them were the remaining two members of their merry band. One of them, a redheaded girl asleep against the window and the other a tall, stern looking girl that kept a frigid stare pointed directly ahead. Neither of them had spoken this entire trip, and the other three expected it to stay that way. Their group was formed haphazardly for this school tour when Arthur and Gustav fell into the pool of leftovers. So they didn¡¯t have the slightest idea of what to say to them, not to mention that they hadn¡¯t known their names until they were grouped together. An awkward situation for the four of them, with an additional foreign member tacked on for good measure. This was par for the course for most of Arthur¡¯s academic career. Even though he wasn¡¯t particularly bad at sports or academics, the elite groups that made up most of the school never accepted him. And Gustav was met with much of the similar treatment for hanging around him. This was the reason they funneled almost by instinct to the back of the bus with the other two social rejects. He didn¡¯t like the status quo by any means, but he still accepted it in silence to keep the peace. A trait he learned well from his father. Arthur drifted away from the conversation as it lulled into small talk and glanced at the two girls in front of him again. He had wanted to give an introduction at least, but for one there was never a scant moment where Deidre, or at least that was what he vaguely remembered her name to be, wasn¡¯t asleep. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.And the much taller girl with the frigid face, Mikoto, wasn¡¯t about to leave any openings for him to speak. Just a few meters away from their sorrowful corner of the bus was a much livelier and adolescent scene you¡¯d expect from any bumbling field trip. Although many of the students were wearing brand bags and watches you wouldn¡¯t ever see on the financially aware. They were still like many students you¡¯d see anywhere, watching movies, reading books or having frivolous conversations. As mundane as a rich kids¡¯ travel bus could be. Arthur abandoned his hunt for new conversation partners and went back to leaning on the window. I really shouldn¡¯t be forcing a conversation. I¡¯ll just let it play out naturally. We¡¯re together whether or not we like it, anyway. He groaned inwardly at his overly self conscious monologues. Looking up from his self lecture, he was face to face with Mikoto. A bit too close as well. Her glasses could¡¯ve swiped the edge of his nose if they were to fall forward. And she didn¡¯t seem the least bit concerned about their sudden amicable distance. ¡°Yes?¡± The girl wouldn¡¯t break eye contact. An arbitrary reversal to the group state, and he was now in an impromptu game of staring chicken, and Arthur was more than willing to lose. He looked back out the window. ¡°What¡¯s so special about you?¡± Her question was a surprising punch of nonsense to Arthur. ¡°My father mentioned you¡­ As a notable man of sorts, but he must¡¯ve meant your father.¡± And she finished him with a kick to the back of his head. This girl had brought up land mines in her conversation opener and set them off in the same breath. She had even kept her signature gaze steady throughout. He couldn¡¯t tell if she was more straight laced or socially inept. An unsavory concoction using the worst aspects of its ingredients. She didn¡¯t seem to mind, though. ¡°So? Are you hiding anything?¡± ¡°Hey there, sorry to cut in-¡± ¡°No. Not you.¡± Jeanne¡¯s attempt at mediation was cut to ribbons. The frigid queen was uncontested. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say I¡¯m hiding anything, but I¡¯m not giving it my all. Does that work for you?¡± She nodded and turned around. Gustav could barely hold in his laughter when Arthur started blushing. As Arthur went to punch him in the gut, Gustav¡¯s face went white. He couldn¡¯t turn around fast enough to see what he had reacted to. A semi-truck running through an intersection. Directly at them. He only heard his classmates begin to scream before everything went black. # * * * An Unfamiliar Wardrobe The bus occupants woke up all at once in complete darkness. Panic creeped through the atmosphere as they realized they weren¡¯t dead. But where were they? Arthur had no clue himself, but he did like the feel of the luxurious pelt he woke up on. Feeling around, he groped for what seemed like hangers, making him think he was in a closet. Which looked to be the case as his class shoved their way through the darkness, pushing open the wardrobe doors by chance. Light filled the wooden box to illuminate various fur coats and hats. He continued to fondle these extravagantly soft attire as his class filed out unbeknownst to him. ¡°Where are we?¡± said a girl to no one in particular. ¡°How would I know!¡± said an unhelpful boy to a girl in particular. The group murmured in confusion as they looked about a vast white room without a ceiling. There were no lights in the room, yet it was perfectly lit below where the ceiling should be, and had a jet blackness above it. Everyone in the room focused their gaze on one point. A gargantuan bare man with gills that had the head of a lion. A mismatched fashion nightmare in terms of genetics, but no one dared laugh. His presence demanded their attention in a way they had never felt in their lives. It wasn¡¯t fear or confusion that enraptured them, but awe. ¡°I welcome you, humans of the lesser plane. I say this sincerely.¡± He raised both of his wrinkled sagging arms, each an opposite undulating skin tone. ¡°Now, since you¡¯ve made your way here, I have a job for you all. This is what humans would call a deal. I will revive the lot of you in return for a single favor.¡± The class stared at him, unmoving. Some were thinking words without cooperation from their vocal chords and others¡¯ brain receptors had churned to a halt altogether. The patchwork deity let this continue for a minute before slamming his palms together in a fiery clap. ¡°Well?¡± Without hesitation, nods and whispered agreement filled the room. Their gazes glued to the lion. He clapped again with a lighter finesse that signaled the floor to split apart. All manner of mystical objects floated out of the ground, arranging themselves neatly into a gallery in front of the students. From brilliant swords to raging pyres, the variety was beyond compare. The patchwork deity began speaking again when the students hesitated to move. ¡°As your host, I¡¯ve prepared gifts. Any item you fancy here you may take, and by doing so, its powers as well.¡± Three boys sprinted as those words left his lips. Soon, the other students reached the same conclusion. Hope and dread clashed in the room as they struggled through their varied reactions. Some were already fighting to get a leg up over their classmates. Arthur had heard none of this. He found himself in a daze. An unworldly fatigue gripped him while the others attended their post mortem lecture. No one had realized this, and no one cared to realize this. Fantastical items were seized, and other applicants rejected by the artifacts they coveted. A guiding force seemed to lead each student to the single item that spoke to them. And this was further enhanced by them believing it was their own choice. Despite coveting the more impressive items, each person found satisfaction with their destined partner of sorts. They didn¡¯t question the origins of these items either. Curses or prices unknown to them didn¡¯t cross their minds this moment. ¡°As for my request. It is simple. Free my daughter, who¡¯s fallen under my former disciple. In her bid for revenge, she fell along with him, and has been bound to him in cursed matrimony. Each moment they spurn on in eternal un-death, he defiles her spirit and flesh as they meld together in his mockery of me. They¡¯ve become a deathly bundle untouchable by me. So I request you destroy that infernal traitor and bring my daughter back to my grasp.¡± The lion headed man, previously serene and calm, shifted his tone as he described his predicament. And to accompany that tone shift was a searing change in temperature unexplainable by modern physics. The students were sweating through their shirts with their hairs on end just listening to him. ¡°Will you return us home afterwards?¡± said a familiar frigid queen. ¡°No. I simply restored your flesh here. I have no jurisdiction nor desire to return you. ^&#@* take care of them.¡± A winged, amorphous apparition appeared and disappeared with the twenty-nine students This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.outside of the wardrobe. Leaving just one student behind. ¡°You there.¡± His striking voice reverberated through the wardrobe. Arthur stumbled out to meet him drowsy and wide eyed. With a softer reaction compared to his classmates. He was embarrassed for falling asleep, but he wasn¡¯t in awe of this monstrous being of charisma. They stared into each other on meeting, one through the other, and one into the other. ¡°Is there a reason I¡¯m here alone?¡± Arthur broke the silence with little thought. ¡°None where you¡¯re concerned.¡± The lion sniffed Arthur¡¯s direction. ¡°Though you have a use still. It¡¯s been cycles since a mutt such as you arrived.¡± The lion opened its jaws in a mimic smile that looked more like it was miming chewing. ¡°And what would that use be, sir, lion?¡± ¡°To make a choice.¡± ¡°And if I refuse?¡± ¡°You may.¡± He wasn¡¯t expecting such a cryptic answer, though he wasn¡¯t expecting much of what happened today, anyway. The mundane world he hated was gone. He wasn¡¯t bound by the institution that kept him as a prisoner. He was free. Or only as free as this supposed choice would allow him to be. He could already feel the reins of his life falling back into his hands. He wouldn¡¯t stop here, after death, and with nothing left to lose. ¡°Tell me sir, lion, what must I do?¡± ¡°Accept the miseries your kind has abandoned, in that you will find strength, lost to all but you.¡± Arthur had never been a whimsical fellow. He always rose to the occasion when it mattered most. This moment would be no different. An unease clenched his heart. He knew something would change in this moment, the crossroads in his life had arrived. And he leapt. ¡°I accept it.¡± ¡°In this choice, the world rejects you. Your strength overwhelms giants, your body unbreakable to stars, your abilities a worthy rival to the twice hanged of Helheim. Your power is the cruelty of your kin made true. Its only match is an absurdity that rises as an unyielding tide to meet it. Your will has become extant, but your hands will be forever bloodied.¡± His words reverberated into Arthur¡¯s head. Each word echoing six times in multiple pitches. It was a thing of beauty to him. Like the first time he had sat in a Latin choir with his father, he was brought to tears. Only to be brought to his knees quickly after. A memory played out in front of him. Arthur was in a hospital room, one he¡¯d seen dozens of time before in his life. And his mother laid in the center of the room, on a hospital bed and pierced with all manner of needles. ¡°Grow stro-¡± An interruption. The scene in his mind was utterly foreign to him. A film that had been shredded was taped haphazardly, reforming his memories images. His mother was no longer in front of him. A crinkled wrapper. White bed sheets stained in viscous liquid. An empty hospital gown laid atop it. ¡°What did I¡­¡± His mind went blank, but the monstrosity in front of him watched, he watched Arthur smile. An uncanny rush of emotion situated between an adrenaline high and nausea, he felt sick to his stomach as if insects were rummaging through last night¡¯s dinner. Whose feelings were these? Arthur yearned to know if they were his, or an unexpected visitor¡¯s. For a moment, his skin became a porcelain white. A newly wiped canvas ready to be stained. His limbs stretched at the protest of his every muscle fiber, tearing without restraint. He resembled a crumbled note being forced against an upright nail, each repetition leaving him with less unmarked canvas. Arthur suffered his new form all at once. And immediately receded, his limbs reset and his skin colored. His breathing stayed labored as he forced his gaze towards the deity standing over him. ¡°You may be worthy, but you are weak.¡± The patchwork deity sneered. ¡°Much alike a duck drowning in water, I dare say this pleases me more.¡± Arthur could only hope to utter a whisper in response. ¡°What has happened to me?¡± ¡°A passing remnant only. Your forefathers abandoned it. But failed to hide it.¡± The lion headed man took a seat, having a chair appear below him before he could fall. ¡°A word of advice for my favorite of the thirty. Save my daughter with the greatest urgency, or you may suffer some unwanted desires. I¡¯ll send you ahead to my servant¡¯s gathering. I expect much of you, ashen one.¡± His face became a blur as he waved Arthur off his plane of existence. *** Purification Arthur felt a refreshing breeze when he opened his eyes next. Now in a well lit chamber overlooking an emerald sea with multiple paneless windows, he awoke in a change of clothes: first, a white robe that touched his ankles and a simple belt made of rope clung to his waist. Looking down, he saw a pair of well made straw sandals. A voice came from nearby when he seemed to have risen. ¡°^&#@*¡¯s humble self greets the last arrival.¡± Arthur didn¡¯t see the origin of the voice, but nodded in its general direction. ¡°Where are the others?¡± ¡°Just ahead, one of the great master¡¯s disciples shall begin orientation when all of you arrive. Great luck upon you all.¡± # Arthur dragged his feet in slow paces through the stone hallways lit by this new world¡¯s midday sun. Engravings of giants without faces decorated the walls, each giant a distinct flavor from the last. Some were tree-men, others bearded and one-eyed. Passing through, Arthur found himself behind some familiar faces gathered in front of a steaming pool, about 100 square feet in imperial terms. ¡°The last has arrived. We will purify you all before we continue on. Enter the pool,¡± said a man who looked no younger than eighty. ¡°What exactly are we being purified of?¡± said Mikoto, standing firmly in the middle of another clique who she¡¯s never once spoken to. The man lifted his left sleeve, revealing purple gashes resembling chemical burns coiled in tight swirls from his nails to his shoulder. On closer inspection, his collarbone had the same complexion. ¡°This is the price you pay for bringing the old world with you. The mana of this world attacks foreigners like antibodies. Does anyone have more questions?¡± A boy Arthur recognized as Collin spoke up first. ¡°We¡¯ll leave the questions for after we¡¯re purified. I¡¯m assuming none of us wants to be cooked alive before we even know what¡¯s going on here.¡± He had an unusually deep voice that carried itself well in open spaces. Most people in the class would recognize him in an instant if he called out to them across the street. Not to mention, he could easily be picked out from a crowd at the same distance, standing eye to eye with Gustav. The man waited a beat before continuing. ¡°Then once again, enter the pool.¡± He gestured towards submerged stone stairs covered in the murky turquoise liquid filling the entire pool. A smell that seemed like something between damp herbs and smelling salts wafted towards If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.the group, blasting their nostrils in conjunction with copious amounts of steam. One by one, the group submerged themselves, sinking up to their necks with their robes weighing them down. When Arthur joined them, he felt a tingle shake through his spine. Shivers overtook him as he started attritting liquids from every pore on his body. While the fluids were vaporizing, the liquid wasn¡¯t anywhere close to a temperature to put his body on heat alert. Many of the students were in the same predicament, losing liquids at a rapid rate. ¡°Don¡¯t linger for long. Cross before you empty yourselves!¡± A little late for that! Arthur kicked up splashes of the turquoise fluid all around him, scrambling to push forward a second faster. The pool was turbulent, with the rush of his classmates obscuring his vision forward. Even with his adrenaline in full swing, he felt a strange lethargy over him. Each step became a chore and his bones ached. He struggled to even keep his eyes open. First out of the pool was Deidre, flopping onto the floor a short distance from the stair emerging from the liquid. The robes clung to her as she lay sprawled, accentuating a trained physique with an upper back caked in muscle. As her breathing steadied, she let out a gagged gurgle. Black bile flowed from every orifice on her face, splattering onto the floor. Forced into a coughing fit, she curled into a ball on her side, gasping for air when the last sputter left her. All who followed had their body exorcised similarly, each left gasping on the ground, clenching themselves for a fragment of support. Arthur walked out of the pool, refreshed. Something missing from him had returned, something he never knew was absent. ¡°Oh? It seems you take to mana well,¡± said the Man guiding them as he finished his detour around the pool. ¡°I can¡¯t wait on you all for long. Take a brief rest, then we¡¯ll begin your orientation.¡± The man walked past those on the floor into the next room, past the short hallway connecting to the pool. ¡°Glad to see you¡¯re doing alright,¡± said Gustav, face first on the ground next to Arthur¡¯s ankles. He wiped a black smudge off his lips as he tried to regain his footing. Arthur naturally pulled him up as he got off the floor. Many still laid flat, decorating the stone floor with a new splattered checker pattern. The short respite consumed them for a moment as they found their bearings. ¡°Lets go see what that Lion¡¯s quest really entails.¡± # * * * Orientation With no rhyme or reason to their seating arrangements, the usual cliques reformed. The groups varied between sitting on the ground or standing since no seats were set out for them. Most of the students were soaked and stained with black streaks. Arthur scanned the place as he walked to the front with Gustav. The room was circular, with steps leading down to a podium. The area was fashioned like an auditorium with windows near the ceiling letting in gratuitous amounts of natural light. The old man from before stood squarely in the middle, observing the students as they made their way into the room. ¡°We unfortunately have no more time to dawdle.¡± He raised his hands and made a clenched fist while muttering. The students¡¯ soaked clothes emitted bursts of vapor, drying in an instant. ¡°First, you¡¯ll find that mana now surrounds you. Some of you may even see it now.¡± Arthur himself couldn¡¯t see anything resembling mana, but felt a tinge of electricity running across his skin. It wasn¡¯t anything resembling stories he¡¯d read in the past, and he certainly didn¡¯t feel any stronger than when he was in his original world. ¡°And now I¡¯ll request for your protections to be removed, brace yourselves.¡± ¡°kilam taratisla nim kildaf ''qilta katayamih.¡± Seconds stretched themselves into hours. Their perception became their undoing. Unlike any naturally occurring sense, it assaulted them all at once. Some unlucky few fainted for a moment. The overload of mana was short-lived. The flux ended as quickly as it started, the students felt their grip on reality tighten back into order. Labored breath and pained gasps filled the room. The mana invisible to them just moments before, forced itself to be known. A constant barrage to their new sixth sense. A similar sensation to gaining the ability to taste, and then dunking their tongue in a basin of salt. Not fatal but unpleasant nonetheless.To some, unbearable. Arthur¡¯s eardrums were ringing from the strain. If you had told him lightning had struck the podium, he would have believed you. A burning sensation crawled into his psyche as the initial wave passed over him. He felt charged with an unfamiliar sensation. The world clicked into place for Arthur. Sunlight filtering in through the window seemed to take on new hues, and some puddles of liquid on the floor were emitting wisps. This was the form mana took to Arthur¡¯s eyes. Everyone around him had similar revelations, rubbing their eyes and gasping in disbelief. Yet just moments ago, they were completely blind to the phenomena of this world. This newfound Awe took precedence over their short lived agony. The students resembled tourists as they took in the room anew, dyed in the shades of mana for the first time. ¡°I see you¡¯ve opened your eyes; I can safely say you all won¡¯t need protection from mana. But this is only the beginning. The king of the curtain may have granted you all gifts, but that won¡¯t be enough here. You¡¯ll need to awaken your mana.¡± ¡°Awaken? We¡¯re not from here. How are we supposed to use mana?¡± asked Collin standing to the front of the podium. The old man chuckled and rubbed his chest tenderly. ¡°Fortunately for you all, the King left a gift inside you. An additional heart, or as it¡¯s called by mages, your primary mana core.¡± Arthur took a hand to his veins and found his pulse irregular surely, but he doubted he had a second heart. Though he wasn¡¯t the most stellar student at his academy, he knew it wasn¡¯t possible for two hearts to work in sync. The human body cannot accommodate two regulators for its pulmonary system. As far as he knew, they may not even be human anymore, or at least the type of human that lived in his own world. Amidst the murmuring, the man took out a slate with markings arranged in an oval covering it. The mana in the room had an instant reaction to its presence, drawing towards it like moths to a bulb. As each portion of mana touched it, it began emitting a pale blue glow that grew with each bit of mana it took in.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°This will serve two purposes for you all, firstly to ingrain the feeling of outputting mana from your core, and secondly to determine your affinity for paths of mana. Line up here.¡± He motioned to the front of the podium and the students began making a queue. Collin, being closest to the podium, was the first to go. Reaching out his hand, the tablet pulled him like a magnet. He felt his hand attach to the tablet like a suction cup as it began to glow. He gasped. Ice began forming at his feet and his breath became visible. The temperature dropped rapidly around him, enclosing him in a wintry circle. ¡°The first is water. Next!¡± The queue moved quickly, each student successful in drawing out their mana for the first time. With a large array of paths manifesting between them all, it varied between seven mainly. The first to manifest Water, then following it with Fire, Earth, and Air. Besides those four were Nature, Astral, and Death, as the man called them. No one was necessarily restricted to one path, either. In the man¡¯s words, it was possible for one to take up as many as they had the time to pursue, even without the talent for it. When it came to be Arthur¡¯s turn, a look of recognition flashed across the man¡¯s face. Arthur felt the weight of his expectation in his gaze as he offered his hand like all the others. A sound like static filled the air, and a dim light formed an irregular shape around Arthur. ¡°Astral, how fitting. Unsurprising though, you may want to take an additional path. Most Astral practitioners do the same.¡± Finishing his turn with the tablet, Arthur stood aside for Gustav, who ended up awakening a mana aspect towards Earth. Arthur thought it was quite fitting for him, though he wouldn¡¯t mind also awakening an earth aspect himself. The man had mentioned to him as such, so he started configuring combinations in his head. Although he hadn¡¯t really understood what exactly Astral was, he interpreted it as some sort of relation to the stars. Could he conjure meteors with a second path in earth? Or was it more of a metaphysical path? Could he interact with concepts? Ideas raced in his head as the awakenings closed. ¡°I¡¯ll be frank with you all now. While being a mage is an accomplishment for the residents of this world, you¡¯ll die like dogs as you are now. Gifted or not, all of you are untrained in combat, and unaware of the depths of the magic you possess.¡± Silence pervaded the auditorium. These students, little better than children and still in the middle of their education, had died and been thrown into another world. None of them asked for this and yet they were expected to save the daughter of a being indistinguishable from a god to most. Impossible. What were they to do? If they wanted a chance of getting back home, if there was even a way back, they knew they¡¯d need to get stronger. If there was an opportunity in front of them to escape this world, they needed to be able to seize it at a moment¡¯s notice. There wasn¡¯t any time to waste. ¡°We, under the King of the Curtain, are few. Eroded by pretenders playing at God, we¡¯ve been left with only a single church far from the coast of the middle continents. All but the most loyal and powerful have been killed in wars for scraps of territory. We who remain are the legacy of all who fought to keep this ground you walk on unsoiled. Please enter, esteemed teachers.¡± An enormous set of wooden doors at the rear end of the auditorium swung open. Revealing seven figures in white robes, each embroidered in a different color reflecting their path of mastery. They were a varied group, both old and young, with a nearly even split of men and women. One master in particular had pointed ears over 6 inches in length, with porcelain skin that almost seemed to let light seep through it. Next to them, in stark contrast, a man whose age defined him more than any of his other features could hope to, sagging to a point almost in defiance of death itself. They each stood in a line with a sizable gap between them. Mana coalesced above their heads, representing their paths. ¡°Masters Saga, Hussam, Kamron, Gulale, Iris, Hestia, and Maat will be the ones to guide you. Your duty is to learn under them, all other things will come with it. ¡± The leftmost master, the long-eared individual named Saga, glowed a dull white above their head, similar to the glow Arthur experienced during his awakening. He made his way over to her as he brushed shoulders with a familiar face. Jeanne, right next to him, was walking to the same mentor. Caught up in the chaos of their transfer, Arthur hadn¡¯t said a word to anyone except Gustav. Not entirely close or distant with Jeanne he nodded at him and flashed a smile hidden behind fake enthusiasm. Jeanne returned the gesture, but Arthur had no way of telling if his was any more genuine than his own. When all the students had finished sorting themselves, Arthur noticed that he and Jeanne were Saga¡¯s sole disciples. Arthur glanced at the other groups and locked gazes with another mentor, the old man Hussam, who seemed to look at him with a tinge of pity before he continued sizing up his new disciples. When Arthur looked back at Saga, she flashed a bright smile as she looked down at them. Saga, a solid six and a half feet, had no trouble doing so. ¡°Kneel and grovel, you mongrels.¡± Said Saga. A New Life When Arthur had lived in the academy, he lived in the dorms by himself, with a bathroom attached to his room. Although he had always attended the academy begrudgingly, he never complained about his accommodations. In truth, he thought it was almost more than he deserved. Now, he lived in a shack that seemed to have previous inhabitants of the livestock variety. The hay they slept on clumped together with bits stuck to it, which he could only hope weren¡¯t droppings from those previous occupants. Still, he couldn¡¯t ask for more. His master had cast him aside, along with Jeanne. The disciples under the other masters lived in their own personal rooms. Watching the other disciples retire to their rooms each night as he made his way to the stables made his blood boil. Still, he held his temper; he didn¡¯t see any point in lashing out at the other disciples and he had nothing to say to the masters without a death wish. For now, he would bide his time. At least he had company. They woke in the early morning about an hour before sunrise each day. Brushing off hay sticking to his face, Arthur rushed to ready himself before the sun rose. His first duty of the day was drawing water from the creek that ran through the center of the island, then waiting for his master to send the day¡¯s instruction. Gustav would wait outside the stable before Arthur woke most days, apparently his training required preparation before the sun rose, though he would never say exactly what he did. Ever since they separated, he¡¯d stuck to Arthur whenever he got the chance. He¡¯d tried getting him to sneak into his personal room to sleep twice, but Gustav¡¯s master was running low on patience. Now he just settled for helping Arthur and Jeanne with their chores whenever he wasn¡¯t doing his own training. No sooner than having finished a fresh pour outside the main annex, they felt a prod in their heads. ¡°Run.¡± Jeanne and Arthur exchanged exhausted looks with each other as they received the same instructions as they had for weeks. Taking off their sandals they used for day-to-day activities, they wrapped their feet in shoes with thick leather soles for running. As thick as they were, the soles would be replaced within the week. Finishing their preparations, Gustav waved them off and sauntered off to the Earth disciples. On their run, they passed by the other disciples, doing their morning duties. Specifically, Mikoto and Collin beating the other water disciples with clubs. As their master explained it, Water mana was drawn to senseless violence. So, each day before they would begin to draw in mana, they would crowd around the waterfall bordering the creek and beat each other half to death. After a brief scuffle, the mana would rile itself up from the waterfall and gather around the disciples, although the mana wouldn¡¯t stay for long if there wasn¡¯t a winner. The other disciples had already dropped their clubs in preparation to meditate while Mikoto and Collin squared off. Both of their clubs were mangled soft wood covered in light blemishes of blood, twirling around in their hands as they fought a silent battle of positioning. The first strike was Mikoto¡¯s¡ªshe went straight for the neck, always on the lookout for the killing blow, even during a spar. Collin struggled to match her, trying to deflect her swing, but the slippery surfaces of the wood led them to bouncing. Mikoto stayed on the attack, keeping proper distance all the while. Despite having an obvious advantage in height and reach, Collin struggled to approach her. She held a much more slender, long club and gripped it like one would hold a sword. She batted away any attempt at stopping her all out offensive stance in a practiced display of space control. Collin, growing tired of this one-sided beating, forced his way forward. Mikoto, in one fluid movement, struck his outstretched knee, and Collin keeled. Collin dropped his club and offered his hands to the air in surrender. This wasn¡¯t a fight to the death, and he didn¡¯t seem keen on proving himself to bloodthirsty mana. Their fight concluded, He and Mikoto both sat to meditate with the others. With the victor decided, Water mana settled around them, dyeing the clearing under the waterfall in a deep glimmer of azure. This mana would stay gathered here until sunset, letting the Water disciples intake mana for the majority of the day. Watching them pull the blue light of mana into themselves was a mesmerizing experience for Arthur. He couldn¡¯t stop his eyes from following the flow that streaked through the air, leaving traces of blue behind it. The process left ice crystals forming in the surrounding water, and their breath became visible as well. He wanted to dip his hands in the water to see if the mana was making the temperature as cold as it appeared, or if it was just a visual byproduct of water mana. But unlike the other disciples, Arthur and Jeanne would not be intaking mana anytime today. Instead, continuing to run until the sun set. Their bodies, remade now with a second heart, had a far greater capacity for cardiovascular fitness. Yet, they would still run until they puked. Their master, unlike the other six, had no desire to dispense her techniques to vessels unable to hold them. In her eyes, they may as well have not been her disciples at all. More like dogs, she let run outside until they exhausted themselves. This routine had been ingrained in them since their first meeting, where she had them grovel in front of the entirety of their class. A month had passed, and they continued to run. At first, they had seethed at their luck, watching others learn the basics of magic while they heaved chunks on the ground. Now they were numb to their daily routine. If they had still been on earth, they would¡¯ve been tearing their bodies apart at the seams. But here they could feel their muscles easing into the routine, making each lap faster than the last. They weren¡¯t the only ones not developing their mana, though. A small group from their class stayed separated from the other disciples sitting in a small grove adjacent to the beach. Arthur recalled many of them had been Death disciples. Looking at them now, they were like husks of who they were on the bus here. They refused to train, and they didn¡¯t entertain the idea of going along with anything that Lion had said. He still saw them eating from time to time, so they weren¡¯t a completely lost cause. ¡°Come to my library, now,¡± Saga¡¯s voice echoed abruptly in their minds. The second unique command they¡¯d ever received. # They prostrated themselves in front of the library doors. Head on the ground, eyes forward, like a key turning a lock, the door opened. Their master was a stickler for appearances, mostly resulting in an intimate relationship between their foreheads and the ground. This was their first time in the library, despite their daily route taking them through the entirety of the rest of the island. It was a quaint building carved into the side of one of the cliffs that populated most of the island. Compared to the giant structures decorated with intricate engravings of giants that housed the other facilities, the entrance to the library was unassuming; some would even call it lacking. Peering inside the library, Arthur saw halls that flowed to what looked like the end of the coast. There wasn¡¯t a hint of the scale of the library from the outside, hiding itself behind a mundane cover. Arthur and Jeanne scurried through the shelves like mice in a pantry. Everything that decorated the shelves of this library looked ancient and priceless, ranging from stone tablets to books bound by twine filled with parchment. Some glass cases stood between the shelves containing items with functions they couldn¡¯t guess and described by plaques with words they couldn¡¯t read. As they ventured deeper into the labyrinthine library, they caught a glimpse of the same dull light symbolic of the path of Astral magic. Dozens of small orbs no bigger than pearls floated in a dome with their master at its epicenter. She lifted her spectacles and looked at the two, like she felt their presence entering the dome. ¡°Let¡¯s not waste time. I give you two permissions to sit and speak.¡± They wasted no time on taking her offer. Seating themselves at two of the many posh chairs decorating her small nook of the library. Arthur saw she also had tea prepared, but the only teacup was resting between her fingers. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Tell me the gifts you received.¡± She sipped on her tea as she sized them up. If Arthur hadn¡¯t known better, he would¡¯ve thought this was the first time she¡¯d ever seen them. Her demeanor exuded genuine curiosity, in contrast to her previous indifference. Though he still wouldn¡¯t test her patience despite the turnaround. Before Arthur could speak, Jeanne dropped a rock in front of him, and it stayed there, floating. ¡°I call it poltergeist. It¡¯s like an invisible helper.¡± It was a recurring help during their routine. Holding buckets and taking stray straw out of their hair. Arthur had noticed nothing especially powerful about it, or at least Jeanne hadn¡¯t shown him any reason to believe so. She nodded and looked at Arthur. ¡°My gift isn¡¯t as straightforward.¡± Gesturing at his body, Arthur continued, ¡°When I met your god, he didn¡¯t give me a gift. He said he awoke something in my blood.¡± Arthur felt something stroke him. Something resembling invisible hands covered his body, making him feel smothered in an instant. Even his insides weren¡¯t spared, with a tightness forming in his chest. This wasn¡¯t Jeanne¡¯s poltergeist. The level of force it could exert was nowhere near this strength he felt now pressing on him and it couldn¡¯t penetrate solid materials as of now. Arthur glared at the likely culprit. ¡°A cruel joke,¡± she squinted at him, soaking up her observations. ¡°You¡¯d sooner tear yourself apart with a body like that.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± She closed her eyes for a moment and Arthur felt the pressure on his body lift. He could finally breathe again. Jeanne had a mix of confusion and anxiety plastered onto his face, but sighed in relief when he saw Arthur¡¯s breathing return to its natural rhythm. ¡°Humans normally are perfect containers for mana. They take in mana faster than sponges take in water, and they can replace it internally after their core takes to their path of mana. To this point, your body fits the mold. But in expelling mana, there¡¯s a drastic distinction. Most humans use mana like a watering can. Your body skips this step entirely, as if you cut a hole in the can¡¯s bottom instead of using the spout. In simple terms, your capacity to expel mana is vastly larger than other humans.¡± She glowered for a moment and continued, ¡°That can¡¯t be right¡­ Never mind.¡± Arthur had known his gift wasn¡¯t all flowers and rainbows. He hadn¡¯t expected it to be an active detriment to himself, though. His master couldn¡¯t be telling him everything, either. The same could be said for him, but he didn¡¯t exactly trust the psychotic alf whose favorite pastime was stepping on humans. ¡°Your gifts will do. I¡¯d like to stimulate your cores now, but you humans have a glaring magical defect. You¡¯ll be taking on my crest, the same alfish crest wars that wars have been fought over, a privilege few can even dream of.¡± She stuck out her arm and a shining emblem of light appeared over the top of her hand. An amalgamation of twisting branches curling around an orb of light. Its writhing tendrils shivered as it continued its twisting around the orb. Cradling it as it were a baby, it gingerly pulled the orb back into her hand. ¡°I am the high priestess directly under the lord of curtains. To become my true disciples, you¡¯ll need to pay the same price I have.¡± Arthur and Jeanne swallowed as they met each other¡¯s gaze. When they first came into the library, they were at most interested in their master¡¯s magic. Now they were completely enthralled. Waiting for weeks, training their bodies day after day, had left them eager to dive into the world of magic. They were like starving beasts with raw meat thrown directly at them. ¡°An alf¡¯s crest, and by extension their own magic, requires a binding vow. Do you know the price for staring into the depths?¡± Saga¡¯s eyes reflected an authority etched into her for eons, ¡°Everything, I paid all I could possibly imagine and still it took more. I was born as the seventh daughter of the seventh son. For alfs this event was centuries in the making. Our god gifted me a talent beyond compare, a path of magic paved in a rainbow.¡± Looking at her library, Arthur didn¡¯t notice the presence of any other path. Not even the constructions that functioned independently hinted at any path other than Astral to Arthur¡¯s inexperienced eyes. If she was as talented as she said, Arthur thought there should¡¯ve been some sort of indication for it. Surely her light sources could¡¯ve been more efficiently cast with fire mana. She could¡¯ve at least ventilated all the dust plaguing the library with some clever placements of air magic. ¡°I will follow no other path. I sacrificed all of my potential for magic for a single path forward. I cornered myself into the journey to mastery. The king of magic that overpowers all other mages with pure force, the dynasty of stars, Astral.¡± Arthur noticed a slight smirk creep onto the perfect contours on her face. Was she looking down on them, or on the other paths of magic? ¡°Master, we understand the power of your path, but how do we decide our own vows? Do we have to sacrifice something?¡± Jeanne nodded vigorously along at Arthur¡¯s question. ¡°You humans typically only have two ways to decide: give up power or give up the potential for power. Xenos of the setting sun took a vow of silence, while Labryelle of the forgotten deep took a vow of the unsleeping. Humans need a vow heavy enough to crush them, or better yet, cripple them.¡± Her advice wasn¡¯t all that useful to Arthur. As he didn¡¯t want to crush nor cripple himself. But it was a step forward. He didn¡¯t know the exact details of vows, but it seemed the heavier the restrictions, the larger the impact. He might not be able to dedicate himself to never walking again, but not using his left hand in combat could be an option. ¡°Sorry, Master. Do you know if other restrictions could be as powerful? Maybe a vow to never eat meat at night?¡± She looked at him as if she expected this line of reasoning before he even brought it to her attention. ¡°The strongest vow I know is a vow of dedication. I will avenge my poor, poor sister and kill their murderers. I will stop the tyranny of the king who starves us peasants!¡± Her tone was halfway between mocking and cold. ¡°All the same, in the end, humans exchange their potential for magic for an unnatural connection to the throne. Other Alves are all too eager to snatch up the scraps when they inevitably die after giving everything for this goal.¡± Waiting for her to finish, Arthur meets her eyes. She dared him to try the same as the others. He felt it, but his senses told him there was another reason she told them this. Another method to use this crest. ¡°My disciples need not worry, I offer you another way, a labor. As you surely recall, our lord is in a predicament regarding the daughter of curtains. If you swear on your vows to accomplish this labor, your vow will be strengthened by its intensity. Though, if you fail, you¡¯ll lose your crest entirely.¡± On first glance, this was Arthur¡¯s preferred method. Or at least it beat being crippled. He wasn¡¯t sure if a labor was usually as intense as saving a god¡¯s daughter in this world, but back on earth, he¡¯d read as such in all kinds of myths. A single labor in comparison to Hercules¡¯ twelve was a bargain. ¡°I will warn you all that once you take on this vow, you¡¯ll have ten years at a maximum to complete it. And if my disciples were to happen to fail a labor to our lord, I¡¯d prefer them dead at a minimum, so please do hurry.¡± She held a sneer at them, but Arthur struggled to maintain eye contact with his master, and he felt it was becoming a habit. Her tendencies to look down on humans was one part of it. One major part of it. But there was something behind that veil, like a snake lying in wait for the slightest movement. When she saw weakness, she struck without fail. Arthur and Jeanne didn¡¯t leave time to second guess themselves. They didn¡¯t know if there was going to be another chance to step into the world of magic, and this vow seemed to align with their initial goals, at least. They each set out their hands, mimicking the movement of their master. ¡°I vow to free the lord of curtains¡¯ daughter.¡± Arthur felt a singing feeling on his hand. As if branded with a hot iron, white tendrils appeared on his hand and manifested themselves. Unlike his master¡¯s tendrils that seemed to lovingly cradle whatever it held, his were forcefully lashing out to take its own orb prisoner. In scant a second the tendrils latched onto the new white orb that appeared with Arthur¡¯s vows and dragged it into his hand. ¡°Good, I can finally anoint you two as proper disciples. I only need to stimulate your cores to accommodate astral mana to circulate your channels. This may take a moment--¡± Interrupted, Saga raised her hand to her ear. ¡°Yes hello?¡­ No, come back later. I¡¯m busy¡­ Now? ¡­ Well, did you make enough for both of us? I¡¯ll just flood them. Wait there.¡± She turned back to Arthur and Jeanne, indifference plastered on her face. ¡°Change of plans. My disciples wouldn¡¯t die from the likes of this.¡± An intense heat scoured through what felt like Arthur¡¯s veins as his master raised her hand. He collapsed to knees, falling from his chair. Looking to his right, Jeanne was faring no better. His master was already making her way to the entrance as his body broke out in spasms.