《Cat Boy Travel Diary》 Chapter 0: A Cat In Its Box Chapter 0: A Cat In Its Box A roar of flames blew past F¨¦lis. He swore he could taste the embers. He leapt aside as a second fireball scorched the place he was standing a moment ago. ¡°Bright light, strike!¡± F¨¦lis called. A small circle of light materialised before him and a beam of light ripped through the third fireball. He danced backwards while the attacker took the opportunity to close the distance. That wasn¡¯t good. ¡°Let phthalo burst forth!¡± A beam of blue light exploded at the attacker¡¯s feet and slowed his advance, allowing F¨¦lis to create distance, where the speed of his magic would be most effective. ¡°O brightness, fall at my command!¡± He cried. Consecutive lines of light traced the attacker¡¯s path as he raced across the field, moving with surprising speed¨Cfor a man of such size¨Cand throwing himself behind an outcrop of boulders. F¨¦lis took a moment to consider his next move. He didn¡¯t know what spell the man was casting, but it was best to strike first. He needed to create an opening. ¡°I call upon light, strike my foe!¡± A ray of light shot from the circle hed manifested, past the boulders and hit the ground explosively. Rocks and dust flew into the air. F¨¦lis began running towards the outcrop, simultaneously trying to open up an angle of attack. Several fireballs flew over the rocks like artillery fire, striking at random. The attacker had estimated his location and was carpet bombing the whole area. He was blowing craters in the ground with sheer power alone. What destructiveness. F¨¦lis dodged and weaved through the assault, sweat dripping down his forehead and stumbling over roots before making it out of the barrage. A quick glance over his shoulder showed crackling flames and mini craters dotting the land. Running up past the rocks, he turned, readying a spell and¡­ No one was there. He twisted, but too late. Something struck him in the side and threw him to the ground. He gasped as heat coursed through his body and the aggressor stepped up beside him. He groaned and panted slowly, breathing through the pain, which was not all that bad, considering how his runes were blunting the damage. The aggressor pulled off his own hood, revealing a rugged face, grey hair and emerald green eyes. He had a well trimmed beard which didn¡¯t cover the scars running across his face. ¡°Not bad. I see you¡¯ve been working on your cast speed,¡± the stocky man said, holding out a hand. F¨¦lis grabbed it and stood shakily, ¡°yes¡­ you don¡¯t pull your punches, father.¡± The man, Nobalte Allariste, chuckled heartily, ¡°you say that every time.¡± The two laughed goodnaturedly and started off towards the building in the distance. F¨¦lis removed his headwear¨Can embarrassing cat patterned mask, a pair of steampunk looking goggles and a clasped riding helmet with protrusions on top for his ears. He breathed in the fresh mountain air as the heat and adrenaline from the sparring match wore off. His hair was all ruffled and his ears were twitchy from being squished by the riding helmet. He attempted, uselessly, to straighten out his hair, but it was honestly futile. It was so messy and disheveled that mother would call it a bird''s nest, or a dryad¡¯s cave, if she were here to see it. He could see his breath in the cold, mountainous air. They were trekking along the side of Mt. Obelisk, a stratovolcano located in the province of Arkel, Ulverich. Despite its once volatile nature, the upper half was coated in fluffy snow that shone pure white in the morning light, almost painful to look at. A kilometre or so ahead stood the Allariste estate, a large mansion situated halfway up Mt. Obelisk. It was double storied, with a courtyard of wintry exotics and long casement windows lining its walls, glinting like stars. The windows, located on the second storey, overlooked the town of Arkhangel¡¯sk, a small mining town of about 12000 people. The houses were mostly timber from the surrounding forests and were the classic trapezium construction. One building stood out, however. It was the church, with the signature symbol of a triangle with a sun, placed atop a tower that poked out above the smaller, residential buildings. It always stuck out like a sore thumb. A short while later, F¨¦lis sat on a lavish four poster bed in a tastefully decorated room. Heavy tomes covered the bookshelf that spanned the back wall and a small couch sat before the windows, framed by diaphanous curtains. A book was laid near the foot of the bed, and he was flipping through the pages contentedly. It was marked 150 Years as The Leading Institute of Magical Development: Riyem Academy, by A.J. Khor. ¡°The unique selling point of the Academy lies in its circular culture of students being taught by alumni, and those students returning after many years in their careers, as alumni, to become Professors. That is the story of many of my contemporaries, who return to the Academy from a sense of loyalty and respect for its hallowed halls.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Those Professors understand the way the Academy is run and are empowered by that knowledge to apply their expertise in the most efficacious manner. When I first arrived at the Academy 14 years past, many months were spent acclimatising to the very eccentric philosophy that is a central pillar of the institution. The alumni staff cohort also provides a secondary benefit, which is an intimate understanding of the learning experience and the perspectives of the students. That insight is the crux of what has been coined ¡®circular professorship¡¯. It means most professors are equipped with an understanding of how students would feel in different situations, what their needs are and how to most effectively provide it. Tuition aside, there is an obvious cultural influence of circular professorship, which is to say, a familiarity with your colleagues. Despite its name, the Academy is first and foremost a research institute, and Professors are very comfortable collaborating for scientific research. It allows for rapid innovation that would be impossible otherwise. It is through this innovation that, for example, we improved upon previous Synergy Techniques, pioneering the 5 mage spell circle.¡± F¨¦lis flipped through the pages, yawning. He was interested in magical history and development, not how Embalphaux Academy worked. He might have been talented, but he wasn¡¯t touching that prestigious place anytime soon. He knew all the major academies sent scouts out around the world to find young talents, but he doubted anyone would have come to this backwater village in one of the remotest places on Earth. They sometimes had academics coming out here to check on the mines, but that was the extent of it. He had been surprised when Grim Baunfield, the train company, had built a station in Arkhangel¡¯sk a few years back. It had to be terrible for business. There were maybe six people getting on or off the train every time it pulled into the station, nowhere near enough to cover the costs of sending a 1000 ton train through the dense acres of forest surrounding the North. He closed his book. He¡¯d lost interest anyway. He wanted to get out of this place. It was cold and lonely and nothing ever happened. He was so bored that he¡¯d be jumping with joy if a huge herd of mammaloths decided to stampede, just for some semblance of excitement. He looked at the squarish houses through the window, and stuck his tongue out at them. ¡°Blep.¡± ¡°The letter¡¯s from who?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already told you. It¡¯s from Andrey,¡± his father said, massaging his temples. ¡°As in, Andrey Jeralt Khoroshiydevochka, the one that wrote Reflecting Upon The Fall of Neyfhwa and 150 Years As The Leading Institute of Magical Development?¡± F¨¦lis interrogated. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And why do we have a personal letter from Doctor Khoroshiydevochka?¡± ¡°Because your mother attended the same academy as him and they¡¯ve been good friends for years,¡± he had his head in his hands. ¡°And WHY did I never know about this???¡± ¡°Because you never asked?¡± He answered weakly. ¡°You know I love history, and Doctor Khororshiydevochka is one of the most renowned historians in the Northern hemisphere!¡± ¡°Alright, alright. Calm down. Don¡¯t get your tail in a twist.¡± He fumed silently. ¡°...fine.¡± A brief pause as they looked at each other. ¡°What does it say?¡± F¨¦lis asked. A curious, but even, tone. ¡°Here. Read it,¡± his father answered, handing over the envelope. F¨¦lis opened the envelope and pulled out a letter, a gold lined ticket and a metallic card. Dear Nobalte and Alice, I pray you are doing well, and apologise for the recent lack of correspondence. As you can imagine, there really has been no lack of work for people like me in these circumstances. On a far more exciting note, I know that your child, F¨¦lis, became 15 years of age as of Une. As such, it is my pleasure, as a Professor of Riyem Academy, to formally invite F¨¦lis Jean-d¡¯arc Allariste to attend Riyem Academy. We, the faculty, would like to congratulate your child¡¯s admittance to one of the most prestigious magical academies in the world, and we hope that the next three years will be of immense value and grandeur. Your child will begin attendance on Tember 4th, in 2 weeks time. We have prepared transport and accommodations for the first semester. We look forward to seeing your child on campus. Sincerely yours, A.J. Khor ¡°Huh,¡± F¨¦lis muttered, ¡°no way.¡± His father didn¡¯t smile, exactly, but as F¨¦lis looked up, he could feel the smugness radiating off him. ¡°Did you pull some strings?¡± F¨¦lis questioned, vaguely accusatory. ¡°I heard the Academy granted the request after a special recommendation from Professor Khor.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ Well, thanks,¡± F¨¦lis admitted, a little bashfully. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. Go thank your mother.¡± A mock salute. ¡°Yessir. On my way!¡± One very gratuitous letter later, F¨¦lis was perched on the dining room table, basking in the sunshine and watching the maid bring out a plate of boar meatstrips, encircled by various grapes, hafnas and mango slices. The plate landed on the table with a little clink and he launched himself at the food with a cute ¡°meow¡±, ripping apart the meat like it was cotton candy. What could he do? Magic made him hungry. His tail swayed contentedly as he swallowed the food and bent down to grab the edge of another piece, tossing it up and opening his maw to catch it. He paused halfway to find the maid staring at him with a strange look in her eyes. The meat landed on his nose with a wet ¡°plap¡±, making him jump and twist with an angry howl, flinging the meat halfway down the table. He landed deftly and glared at the dumb little meat. Out of his periphery, he saw that the maid had a hand over her mouth and was giggling like a little girl, wavy hair bouncing and sweet laughter ringing out. F¨¦lis decided to glare at the maid instead. He stood up on his hindlegs and waved his paws angrily, hissing at her to stop laughing, until he remembered no human understood Cat. Curse me! He briefly pondered transforming into human, but it took some effort, time and left him in a vulnerable state. He instead stalked across the table to pick up the meat and swallow it, ignoring the laughter like clinking glasses echoing through the hall. He finished the rest of his meal in languid silence and was playing with two small mango balls when Father walked in, wearing a fluffy purple robe and holding a book in his hand. Upon seeing F¨¦lis, he broke into a grin, ¡°I knew you¡¯d be here. Stop playing with your food and listen up, I have something to show.¡± F¨¦lis ate the balls and strolled up to the head of the table, where he earned a scratch on the back of the head. He pushed his head against the hand and let out a purr of pleasure. Father¡¯s hands were warm, like an oven left on. Father showed him a brown hardcover journal with the word ¡®F¨¦lis¡¯ stencilled into the spine and a moe style cat face on the front, both a rusty sort of gold colouring. He could tell it was high quality artistry. The artistic choices though¡­ He poked it with a paw, looking up at Father with a questioning tilt of the head. ¡°It¡¯s your journal! Your mother and I talked it over, and decided that a journal would be the perfect parting gift for you.¡± He laid the book on the table and unclipped it, opening up to the first page, where there was a picture of a beautiful woman stroking two cats, one bigger than the other. The woman had long silken hair and a stern look on her face, while the cats appeared to be sleeping, one on her leg and the other on the armrest. F¨¦lis stared at it for a moment before father riffled through the pages. ¡°When I was serving, they gave us something similar. You¡¯ll be able to record your experiences at the Academy.¡± He went up and rubbed his head against the cover. It was scratchy. ¡°I¡¯m glad you like it.¡± ¡°Mrrp.¡± Chapter 1: A Sea of People Chapter 1: A Sea of People 10/2/2 Friday Sunny This carriage was quite luxurious. Red leather seats, ashwood furnishings and a big window to admire the view. Lavender curtains were drawn half-closed against the harsh light and pillows were stacked against the seat. I had a book laid open, half reading, half watching the scenery blow past. The train had left the forest a couple hundred clicks¨Cwhich is military speak for kilometres¨Cback and was now coasting through flower dotted plains. Past the valley on the other side, and I would be venturing into somewhere I¡¯ve never been before. It wasn¡¯t an altogether comfortable thought. The book clapped shut with a clomp. My shorts rustled against the seat and I pattered to the door. A squeak. In the corridor, there wasn¡¯t another soul. The mansion back home was never quiet. It was annoying. There would always be maids and footmen bustling about, and if you listened hard enough, you could hear swords clanging in the courtyard. Father always had a penchant for swordfighting. Nothing wrong with swordfighting, but I had to move to the Eastern atrium just to get away from the clanging. But now¡­ eerily silent. I couldn¡¯t even hear the trundle of wheels past the soundproofing. It was a strange feeling, and I didn¡¯t quite understand it. Towards the front of the train was the dining carriage, with a single waiter standing at the end. They strolled over when I took a seat, and handed me a menu. ¡°How can I help you this wonderful morning?¡± Uhh¡­ I could feel their eyes burning holes into my head. My ears flattened in worry. What do I do? Instead of trying to think up a coherent answer, I focused on the menu. The train served a variety of items, from sandwiches and muffins to sweets and beverages. I pointed at the image of the pancakes. ¡°This,¡± I squeaked. ¡°You want pancakes with syrup and berries?¡± The waiter asked, leaning over to take a look. I nodded eagerly. ¡°And any drinks?¡± He flipped the page over to reveal a dizzying list of beverages and cocktails stretching across several columns. I imagined my eyes going swirly and spinning around at the sight of it. I skipped past the alcoholic ones, they tasted like catnip on fire. And also anything with caffeine. It wouldn¡¯t do any good for my stomach. That left the fruit juices and¡­ hot chocolate, right next to all the coffees. I pointed at the hot chocolate. ¡°Chocolate.¡± He said, ¡°and one hot chocolate. Regular or large?¡± I looked up, and suddenly all my thoughts flew out of my brain. Intense brown eyes. Staring. Oh no. But they weren¡¯t pretty, it was just that eyes were scary. ¡°Regular or large?¡± ¡°Large.¡± ¡°Okay! Anything else?¡± I shook my head frantically. He turned away and I breathed a small sigh of relief. Then I noticed the symbol emblazoned across his left shoulder. Isn''t that the Academy shield? I didn¡¯t know the Academy had ties with Grim Baunfield. A few minutes later, he returned with my food, and I noticed now he was quite tall and lean, like a beanpole. It made me want to laugh. I went for the pancake first. It was amazing. I loved how the honeyed syrup flavour mixed the fruity blueberry tang. The chocolate, on the other hand, was a nice milky texture, but wasn¡¯t quite sweet enough. Nothing 4 packets of sugar couldn¡¯t solve. We pulled into Emba station a couple hours later. I had my face glued against the window, staring at the high, arching lines that ran across the station roof. Emba station was a testament to architectural genius. It was iconic. I¡¯d always wanted to see it in person, because I¡¯d heard visitors talk about the refurbished station. And it was awe-inspiring. Tall spires stretched into the ceiling and supports spun out like many metallic spiderwebs. Very geometric. Very cool. Despite the marvellous architecture, it did look like the whole thing would topple over at any moment. I was surprised that anyone allowed such an unbalanced looking design. It had three central supports reaching up along the North-South axis and awnings stretching out and downwards across its several platforms. The whole thing looked like a deformed umbrella. I giggled. My giggling stopped when I stepped onto the platform minutes later. Riyemba city was sweltering hot. I pulled off my jacket immediately. Then hugged it to my chest because wearing only a shirt made me feel naked. Outside the Western gate were taxi ranks and escorts. I looked for a ¡°stout man with a bushy beard¡±, who I was told was my chauffeur. I found him at the far end of the road, smoking a cigar while leaning on the bonnet of a fancy looking car, dressed in a khaki coloured shirt with the top button undone. I recognised him as Johanne, one of Father¡¯s bodyguards. Father must have sent him here to protect me. So unnecessarily overprotective. I¡¯m not going to get robbed out here. We exchanged greetings and headed off. It was wonderful to ride along well paved roads. The ones back home had little potholes everywhere, and would always jolt you when you least expected it. We drove around Lake Barka, away from the city and into a more suburban district. I was surprised by how close the Academy was to the city, since a military academy had to require a lot of space. We arrived at Gilbert¡¯s Hotel, a grand place with tall doors, wide sweeping stairs and a flashy chandelier. The hotel sat at the foot of the hill below the Academy, about fifteen minutes from the central business district by tram. Convenient. I presented my student card to the receptionist and she led me to my room upstairs. The room was comfortable and cozy. There was a window on the back wall, a small bed on the right hand corner, a wardrobe opposite and a door to the bathroom beside it. I threw my suitcase on the floor and myself on the bed, savouring the soft covers and the fluffy pillows. As I lay there, I thought about Father, and his retreating figure as the station became smaller and smaller. It felt like the emotions hadn¡¯t quite set in yet. The reality of leaving home. I twisted to the window. It was still light, so I got up and left the hotel. I should spend my afternoon getting to know the city. Johanne told me that there was one tram that ran by the hotel every ten minutes, and getting off at the fifth stop would take me to the edge of the urban area. The fifth stop, called Tania¡¯s Crossing, was a crossroads with a large road separating the market and residential area. Directly across from me was a city square with a giant fountain. It had the Sun Plaque¨Ca symbol of the sun in the center of a triangle¨Cbut this one had several bigger triangles rotating around it, creating a trippy optical illusion. I took a closer look. The fountain was at the centre of the city square, so there were plenty of people even at to-evening. Looking down into the wide base, I could see glittery coins lying at the bottom. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. I tilted my head, wondering why there were coins lying at the bottom of the fountain and whether I should call the soldiers to find the owner. I must have been staring at the shinies for too long, because someone stepped up beside me. ¡°Are you wondering why there are coins in the fountain pool?¡± Hm? I took a moment to process what I heard. No way. A mind reader. I didn¡¯t even sense any magic. How are they doing that? Ranged Telepathy is a third level spell and they would need to be at least two levels higher¨C ¡°Yeah, a lotta tourists from up North are confused by the Holy Fountain.¡± I silently cursed my over dramatic imagination and turned to her, finding a confident, tallish girl with jet black hair slouched beside me, roguish smile making her look a little snake-like. ¡°You look foreign,¡± she remarked. I looked down at myself, then gave a questioning tilt of the head. I looked pretty normal, as far as I could tell. Darkish shirt and baggy shorts. It should fit right in. ¡°Seriously?¡± She remarked, ¡°you¡¯re paler than a street sign. You look like a goddamn lighthouse!¡± She laughed. It was a throaty sound, like a cackling crow. Looking at my hands, I realised she was right. I was white as a sheet, whereas everyone else was tanned from the hot Verlaisian sun. I suddenly found myself very conscious of my hands, so I shoved them behind my back. Seeing that, the girl cackled harder, before finally stopping and wiping away a tear. ¡°You¡¯re hilarious. I¡¯ve completely forgotten what I was talking about¡­ That¡¯s right, the fountain. Yeah, the coins are an offering to the Triad and a prayer for good fortune. Sort of a ritual to toss a coin whenever you enter the city, I guess,¡± she said and put her hands on her hips, as if satisfied with her explanation.. I thought I understood. An offering for good fortune. I guess I should offer the most valuable coin I have then. I reached into my coin pouch and fished out a gold coin, with its six petaled flower imprint. She gave a start and quickly folded my hand around it. ¡°Hey, what are you doing, trying to toss a goddamn Auber into the fountain?¡± she asked in a shrill whisper. My ears shot up. I tensed, and stared at the hands covering mine. It was cool. I could feel rough calluses. My breathing quickened. Not good. ¡°Hey, you alright?¡± She asked, sounding distant. She let go of my hands and shook my shoulders, jolting me awake. ¡°Hey, kid, you good?¡± I seemed to be, so I nodded. Thankful for the messy hair covering my eyes. ¡°Your face is all red, you sure you¡¯re good?¡± ¡°Mhmm,¡± I nodded frantically, stepping back out of her grasp. I took a deep breath. And another. And when I felt a little better, I turned to the girl, whose name I still didn¡¯t know. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ okay,¡± I squeaked. I tried to hide my hands again, but remembered the gold coin was still inside. It was so glossy I could see my flustered complexion, the golden hue giving me a jaundiced look. The coins in the fountain were all sinks and cunis, with some agems smattered about. I supposed Aubers were quite valuable. The gold went back and I tossed a silver agem instead. It made a pretty little splash and we watched it sink to the bottom. She stared a little longer. ¡°Kid, you gotta watch out, yeah? Foreigners like you get eaten up like river fish in the ocean in a city like Riyemba,¡± she said, and left with a quick wave. I stared after her, a little dumbfounded by the speedy goodbye. Within moments she was swallowed by the sea of people. Were there more than before? I sighed. She was like a whirlwind, just whipping through a conversation with no thought to spare. I set off deeper into the city, wandering from stall to stall, admiring the local goods. Not long later, my stomach was grumbling. I¡¯d just strolled into the food court and my nose couldn¡¯t resist the delectable allure of meat. I locked in on the closest source of meat, which happened to be a kebab stall with a pot bellied man. I waved away a plume of smoke and approached him. He had a singlet and was wiping sweat while turning kababs with a pair of black tongs. ¡°Gavon¡¯s Kebabs! Whaddya want?¡± He called in a gruff voice. Gavon, presumably, had about twenty mouth watering meat sticks spinning around, so I pointed at the three juiciest looking ones. ¡°Two lambs and a steak kebab! Thats 6 sinks.¡± I held out an agem, it was the smallest I had. Gavon¡¯s eyes went wide. He took the agem and gave me three kebabs, so I bit into one. Immediate regret. Wayyyyy too freaking hot. I doubled over, tears in my eyes, sputtering and gasping. ¡°Boy, you good?¡± The stallholder asked, leaning around the furnace. I spat out the little chunk I¡¯d ripped out, and seeing the piece of meat on the floor, died a little inside. I raised a shaky thumb¡­ And stood up, fanning my mouth. He had seven cunis in his hand, and was grabbing another two sinks. ¡°Leave the change,¡± I murmured. He raised his head, ¡°what did you say?¡± ¡°Leave the change,¡± I repeated, a little louder. The man almost fell out of his chair. ¡°No, no, no, you take it. I¡¯m not taking a tip that''s eight times the original. Keep it, go buy something yummy,¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Like more kebabs, or¡­?¡± ¡°Sure, if you manage to finish those, come back for more.¡± I took the change. Clearly he didn¡¯t know how much meat a cat could eat. I gently bit into the oily delicacy, gasping at the burst of spice and tammamine, and wandered off through the Riyemban streets. By the time the street lamps turned on, I was walking along the edge of the crowded courtyard and chewing on a chili squid kebab. I knew I¡¯d regret eating the spice later, but it just tasted too good. Suddenly, something crashed into me, sending me stumbling forward. I turned around to find a small, hooded figure running off. They had my pouch in their hands, dropping coins as they ran. ¡°Curse me!¡± I muttered, and ran after the thief. I shoved my way through the crowd and weaved between stalls, ignoring the angry shrieks coming my way. I was faster, my long legs carrying me over crates and benches and around corners. I was closing in. I raised my right hand and took aim while manifesting my spell. Just a little longer¡­ ¡°Lightstrike!¡± The thief turned a corner as my Lightstrike fired. It only glanced off their shoulder before they stumbled into cover. I ran to the opening, another spell ready, but the thief was leant against the wall, hood down, clutching their bleeding shoulder. ¡°You, where¡¯s my money?¡± I hiss. ¡°Don¡¯t have it,¡± he huffed. A Lightstrike slammed into the wall beside him, sending stone cracking. ¡°I asked a question, runt.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he whined, ¡°I gave it to Eric two blocks back.¡± I stared at him. He was trembling with fear, cowering away like a rat on a wall. If what he said was true, then I wasn¡¯t getting my money back. ¡°Take your cloak off.¡± ¡°Wheh?!¡± I charged some magic, and that cloak came off faster than I could devour a meatstick. ¡°Turn around. Arms up.¡± I patted him down. Nothing. As I thought, the runt hadn¡¯t been lying. His shoulder was bleeding, but I didn¡¯t have much sympathy for him. He would be fine anyway. It was a shallow cut. ¡°Turn around.¡± He obeyed. I took a good look at him. Flickering brown eyes. Dark skinned. Dusty hair. Thin frame, probably from malnutrition. He looked about six years younger than me. Scrappy clothes, and now, a cloak with a rip down the shoulder. I did feel a little bad for him¡­ I gave a mirthless laugh, ¡°if I had money, I would¡¯ve given you some.¡± The poor thing was quivering like a wet leaf. I patted him, then grabbed his head and said, ¡°the next time I see you, you better not be sticking your fingers down my pockets. I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re robbing someone else, but stay away from me. Now scram!¡± I let go and the runt ran off. Suddenly I felt all of my energy drain out of me. I wanted to slump against the wall and cry. Bawl my eyes out. The runt was gone, so that¡¯s what I did. Ears down, tail limp, my face in my hands. Fuck. I¡¯d just been robbed of every cent I had, on my first day in Riyemba, and I had taken out my anger by bullying a nine year old child. I briefly considered staying here and sulking all night, but that was just begging to be robbed a second time. I thought I knew the way to the tram stop, so I trudged back down the street. The smell of food made me want to puke. In fact, I was surprised I hadn¡¯t puked already. I felt sick. Hollowed out. In a way I was. I wanted to get away, to escape from this dreadful place, but I felt like I was moving through water. Step. Step. Step. Kicked a pebble. As if that would change anything. Watched it roll into the gutter. Kindred spirit. I somehow found my way back to the tram stop and board. And get off. By now I could see the luxuriant Hilberry Hotel, now far more inviting with warm magilights shining along the path and the windows illuminated from within. I moved a bit faster. My boots clicked along the foyer floor and I ascended the stairs quickly. Without even looking, I threw open the door and launched myself onto the bed, intending to curl up and ignore my problems, only to land on something hard and rough. I groaned, rubbing my stomach and standing up to look at¡­ my coin pouch. There it was, with its silky brown stitches, gold and silver coins peeking out, and its string cut apart. As real as the throbbing pain in my stomach. Chapter 2: Riyem Military Academy I must be hallucinating. I must have drunk one too many tequins while meandering around the night market, and now I¡¯m lying in a ditch drunk on acid, dreaming about having all my money back. I pinched myself. It hurt. Half dazed and half shocked, I took the pouch by the mouth and picked it up. It appeared almost the same as the last time I¡¯d held it, albeit slightly more scratched and perhaps¡­ I weighed it in my hand. It was quite a bit lighter. I spent a while longer staring at the thing in my hand, turning it over and listening to its soft clinking. But how¡­? I scanned my room: wardrobe, shut; en suite door, closed; bed, a little rumpled; window, half open; the door behind me was locked when I entered. The window, then. It was left open from when I decided to let some air in, this afternoon. I examined it closer: it had a simple windup opener, and was open about one hand width. An intruder could reasonably reach in and wind the spinner until it was wide enough to allow entry. However, below the window was 15 metres of flat concrete. There was no way anyone could scale that wall, not to mention hold on while using one hand to wind open the window. There was a small window above the lavatory, but a mesh covered the opening. The rest of the bedroom also yielded nothing. I turned to the coin pouch, and glared at it, as if glaring hard enough would reveal the answers. I sighed. It did not reveal the answers. I slumped onto the bed. I supposed I should be happy, since I had gotten my money back, but the elation was counterbalanced by the possibility of someone breaking into my room. I took the pouch and laid the coins out. Aubers and agems, with a few cunis and sinks I¡¯d gotten with my purchases. They were all hexagonal, about two centimetres wide, with small circular holes in the centre. I ran my thumb over the flowered imprint, six petals an auber, five an agem and so on. I was suddenly brought back to building coin towers as a child. I would stack them up into walls and fortresses, hundreds of them, loving how they fit together so snugly. Holding my little wooden sword, even though my lack of talent for swordsmanship always dismayed father. I shook my head. Why was I thinking such things? I¡­ was tired. Am tired. I don¡¯t know where I found the energy to pull out my diary and write, except maybe from a need to record these things¡­ These once-in-a-lifetime moments¡­ Father always talked about his army days. He had this fiery glint in his eyes whenever he did. ¡­What will I feel when I reminisce about these times? 10/2/3 Sunday Rainy I spent Saturday morning examining my room and the hotel. Did they disguise as a cleaner to get in? Did the thieves return the money out of good conscience? But it was no use. I never did get anywhere. I had a million possibilities running through my head¨Cstill do, but none of them are believable enough to write. So I put it out of my head, uneasily. I am not stupid. If pondering gets me nowhere, then I won¡¯t waste my time with it. I did split my money into three separate bags and keep one hidden under my bed at all times though. I spent the better half of Saturday lazing around and reading The Sister Cities of Commerce, Van Wiederbelt. I wasnt being lazy, it¡¯s just my catboy nature! Just look at my fluffy ears and swishy tail. The laziness is purely genetic. And yes I can hear and see better than any average human. And yes I hate that light magic also sears my eyeballs every time I use it. ¡­What was I saying? I visited Riyem Academy on Sunday, but they were closed. There were three metre tall brick and hedge walls, so I couldn¡¯t see anything either. I did manage to find a small gap between the branches and peeked inside. There was a lush green campus with criss crossing stone paths, plenty of shade and many benches with tables around. The open space made me want to transform and zoom across campus¡­ Then I tried on my uniform. There was a white shirt, a grey blazer jacket, shorts and strappy black boots. I admired myself in the mirror. The boots made me look punk, and the blazer was fitted nicely. The charcoal grey matched my lighter grey hair, sort of making me look like a photograph, save my emerald green eyes and the subtle blue trims. Taking a closer look, I found runes of protection scribed artfully over the blazer, both the active runes, with their two concentric outer rings and passive runes, with their two overlapping ones. Runes are one of the mandatory subjects of the Academy, and would come in very useful in combat. Most of the other students probably didn¡¯t know what the circles with erratic symbols meant, but father, being the military man he was,drilled all the essential runes into me. Maybe it would finally be put to use, here at the academy. I also found lead weights in the boots. I had no clue why any sane mage would add weights to their boots. I removed them and replaced them with the sugar packets I stole from the train. That was twenty minutes ago. I¡¯m going to take a nap and wake up around dinnertime. 10/2/4 Monday Clouds! I¡¯d intended to sleep about two hours, but I slept 15 hours to wake up 7 AM today¡­ Catboys with their cattributes, I suppose. I had about two hours until the ceremony began, so I rolled around in bed for an hour and a half and was almost late. At campus, I was directed by staff into the gymnasium, where a speech was being held. There were grandstands set up against three walls and crammed full of students. I had to stand by the doorway to listen. ¡°I would like to welcome every student in this hall to another year at Riyem Military Academy,¡± a sonorous voice stated. ¡°To the students returning, I hope this year proves even better than your last, and to those who join us for the first time today, I am certain the Academy will not disappoint.¡± He continued to speak for a while, before allowing the students to make their way to their forms. Our student cards had our class number in the bottom corner. A number for our year level, followed by a symbol or letter. According to some theories, the school organised its forms to create very specific alignment balances, and your symbol represented the way the form is organised. I had a 1 followed by a stylised d. I wondered what it meant, if anything at all. I looked around as he spoke. The students seemed to be grouped by year level, with each year level taking one grand stand. The first years wore identical blazers to mine. Looking over, I didn¡¯t see many students with muted blue trimmings, at most fifteen, out of perhaps three hundred first years. Shame. The colour of the trimmings represented a mages alignment, and mute blue was for light mages. Beyond that, there are innate magical signatures marked into a person¡¯s equipment, which can also be a sign of alignment. A build-up of excessive magic power, which can sometimes cause side effects. One reason why borrowed equipment isn¡¯t preferred. I¡¯ll need to keep that in mind if I ever lose something. The second years had knee length coats and darker undershirts, which looked extremely badass, while the third years had floor length cloaks that looked extremely nice to curl up in. After the speech ended, we were rounded up and directed to our classrooms to ¡®bond with our classmates¡¯, which, for a cat like me, is the most terrifying thing ever. My classroom was somewhere on the second level, and I simply knew I would get distracted by all the birds flitting about the treetops. Like that robin there. Staaaaare¡­ The classroom was clean and bright, but very bare. Chalkboard at the front, a stage and lectern for the teacher and wooden desks arranged neatly, facing forward. A very militaristic setup. Students were filing into the room and chattering nervously. There was an air of apprehension, about the form mentor, each other and simply starting at a new school in general. I took a seat by the windows, backrow. It¡¯s very important to claim your seat early, and as much as I would have liked to take the windowsill, I doubted the Academy would appreciate it. ¡°Form one delta, calm down, take a seat,¡± a sonorous voice called out. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. A tall, imposing fox woman stalked into the room, metal hands clasped a clipboard and heels clicked against the linoleum floor. She walked straight backed, steps measured, like a soldier. Students hurriedly took their seats and quieted down. Our mentor scanned the room, brown eyes bore into me, as if she could sniff my deepest secrets with a well measured look. ¡°Form one delta, I am Major General Zecir-¡± she began. ¡°Please do hurry up, Soph! We¡¯re going to be late for our first class!¡± Someone from outside whined. ¡°Oh relax, our mentor probably isn¡¯t here yet,¡± drawled a second, lazy voice. A tall, ponytailed girl with eyes like hawks pushed the door open. To find General Zecir glaring at them: the two students who had interrupted her speech. Because hiding behind the ponytailed one was a short girl with cyan coloured hair. A moment passed where they all glared at each other, each daring the other to speak first. ¡°Oh my God, please just hurry up and take a seat,¡± muttered the cyan haired one, basically dragging the taller girl over to a chair and shoving her into it. The taller one, presumably ¡®Soph¡¯, simply chuckled and leant back in her chair. "As I was saying, I am Major General Zecir of the 8th magic brigade. I will be your mentor for the next three years at Riyem Military Academy. I am your first point of contact with the Academy and should you have any issues, approach me,¡± she said, looking, to me, very intimidating and unapproachable. The Major laid down some ground rules and basic expectations, then told us that we would be attending a demonstrative spar between the third years, followed by a meeting with our primary magic instructors, and an early finish. The whole thing felt like a briefing. Brisk and to the point. So form one delta filed out into the hallway and to an open field, where the sun shone gently and there were no trees nearby. There were seats set up in rows on one side, and that¡¯s where we were led. ¡°Form, line up in front of the seats. I will conduct a uniform check,¡± announced the Major. I found myself at the very end of the line, looking right as she moved, ticking items off a clipboard¨Cwhere¡¯d she get that from?--and adjusting blazers and skirt lengths. When she got to me, she asked, ¡°F¨¦lis Allariste?¡± ¡°Yes Major,¡± I replied quietly. She looked me over, ¡°your collar¡¯s crooked. And do something about your hair. It¡¯s too messy.¡± I cocked my head, because her tone sounded different from earlier and I couldn¡¯t figure out why. ¡°F¨¦lis, stop looking at me funny and fix your collar.¡± I hurriedly straightened it out, then tried, uselessly, to tidy up my forever messy hair. I sighed. When I was in cat form, my fur would always be perfectly pruned and fluffy, but for some reason, when I reverted to human form, it would lose its orderliness. At least it was still fluffy, I guess. Then we sat down. We were the first ones there, so I had some time to go over the Major¡¯s speech. But I found my thoughts turning to the dark haired girl, Soph. I had been preoccupied earlier, but the delinquent girl seemed familiar. Had I met her before? Glancing discreetly at her hunched form, I couldn¡¯t quite place my finger on it. Other students had arrived and were filing into the rows behind us. Before long, all the first years were sat at the edge of the padded area, and the air was brimming with excitement. Finally, an white robed instructor walked to the centre of the stage, and a magically enhanced voice boomed out, ¡°please quiet down, first years.¡± Despite his bent back and grey hair, he stood confidently, with the composure of a hawk, squinty brown eyes lively and attentive. This was someone important. The crowd went silent, and he continued, ¡°first years, welcome to this demonstrative sparring match between third year duos. This will be your introduction to magical combat, so watch attentively. Additionally, these four will be involved in some of your assignments in the first semester, and during the field expedition, second term.¡± Four figures entered from behind us, waving and smiling, full length cloaks draped over their shoulders like waterfalls of silk. They must be the ones who would be sparring. From a glance, one pair was a dragon and an angel - I could tell from the shape of their wings, and the other a petite little elf and a human. I couldn¡¯t help but feel a little excited at what I was about to witness. They took their positions on either side of the field, two on each side, and the old instructor stood in the middle, right arm raised. Both sides bowed, and took their positions. The instructor brought his arm down with a bang and a flash, beginning the battle. I winced and covered my ears. Never sitting at the front again¡­ The dragon and angel spread their broad wings with a fwump, legs tensed to take flight, but across the field, Shorty stomped the ground, sending a storm of stones hurling across the space, The icy angel blonde shouted, ¡°bulwark of frost!¡± and swept an arm across, creating a jagged wall of icicles, deflecting the stones, even as splinters fragmented across the ice. The dragon boy raised their arm, muttering, ¡°let three streams converge!¡±, summoning three intricate rings of blue, and pressurised water geysered out, following impossibly straight lines. Angel froze the water, transforming drops into numerous shards of ice, dangerously tipped and travelling ridiculously fast. I watched in horror as the lanky lamppost of a human was about to get sliced up, but a wall of stone rose up, catching the icicles. If I squinted, I could see the silvery shards had slammed into it so hard, they¡¯d jammed into the stone. So they¡¯re both Earth mages? My theory was proven wrong when Lamppost moved around the Earthen barricade with two green, shimmering circles floating before their outstretched hands, revealing that he was a Life mage. The two circles flashed, but I couldn¡¯t see his spell, until two thick, grasping vines burst from the ground underneath Dragon and Angel. Angel chanted something incoherently fast, shredding the vine reaching for Dragon with an ice spike, but the second vine caught him, ensnaring his arm. Dragon managed to take flight, and immediately began casting some higher tier spell, raising her arms and manifesting a comically huge spell circle above her head. Her wings beat against the air, red tail curled in concentration¨Clooking like a giant shrimp sticking out her ass¨Cand the magic circle grew brighter and more defined. It spun above her, looking like a giant shield against the greying clouds overhead. ¡­ Clouds? There weren''t any clouds earlier. Then I realised. Dragon over here was summoning an entire storm, and if what I saw earlier was any indication, Angel would be turning every droplet into cruel, jagged splinters of ice, raining down from above. There was no way anyone could defend against such a move. But summoning an entire thunderstorm had to take an immense amount of time and mana. Angel would have to be protecting Dragon the entire time. And considering the mana he must be consuming¡­ If either Shorty or Lamppost managed to interrupt his casting, he would probably be out of the fight, leaving an unwinnable two on one situation. Shorty must have known this, because she began casting a spell of her own. Suddenly, thick pillars of stone rose out of the ground, quickly forming a huge staircase where one could potentially leapfrog up to Dragon, hovering almost a hundred metres in the air. But she needed a lot of pillars. I had no idea how, with their Earth and Life magic, the two were going to reach her. Apparently they didn¡¯t care, because Lamppost started clambering up the pillar staircase, using his long legs to leap between the spaces. By this time, Angel had wrestled free of the vine, and was flying straight for Lamppost. Of course, Shorty wasn¡¯t going to allow this, and a pillar erupted into Angel¡¯s path, sending her spinning off course. She opted to blast magic at him, yelling, ¡°Winterblitz!¡± and shooting a zippy crystal of ice. He raised vines from the Earth pillars to defend himself, slowing the advance. By now Dragon was probably halfway done activating her spell, but he was already halfway between the ground and the top pillar, where he was within range to strike, and ascending far quicker than she could cast. Angel would have to do something quick to stop him from reaching her. But it was difficult. She was trying to level another clear shot at him, to knock him off the pillars, but at the same time, having to avoid the stones Shorty was pelting with magic. She returned fire, aiming her icicles at Shorty. Shorty fired right back, smashing most icicles apart with a barrage of stones and dodging the rest. They were evenly matched, but Angel also had to keep an eye on Lamppost, and the lack of concentration was costing her. She grunted as a well aimed stone clipped her right wing. Lamppost was almost within range. She had to do something. She yelled, and summoned a dome of ice, which landed over Shorty, and flew, with powerful pumps of her wings, towards Lamppost, who was already readying his spell, vines growing from the Earth beneath him. ¡°Winterblitz!¡± She shouted, firing a single, rotating crystal of ice at him. ¡°Springsurge!¡± He screamed, turning his spell at her instead. Green vines whipped forth, knocking her spell apart, and went straight for her rapidly approaching figure. To make matters worse, Shorty had managed to escape and fire a spell. A jagged stone flew through the air, aimed right where she was headed. It¡¯s over. She won''t be able to dodge both of them. She used precious moments to weave a new spell. Snow sprayed from her boots, accelerating her just a little bit faster, and she adjusted her course¨Cjust slightly. With that, she barely managed to avoid the vine, but the stone found its mark. Right where she¡¯d been hit earlier, shooting through and drawing a spray of blood. The students around me gasped. She wouldn¡¯t be able to reach him. Not with a broken wing, and about four metres of distance to cover, even with the speed she was going. She¡¯d slam straight into the unyielding pillar of rock below. She cried out in pain, but with her left arm, grasped the vine that¡¯d shot past her, and pulled. Somehow, with that pull, and the additional boost from the snow spray, she managed to reach him, colliding into him in a tangle of feathers and blood. ¡°Evan!¡± yelled Shorty. The two fell, screaming and scrabbling at each other. Lamppost, or Evan was his actual name, managed to do something, and a giant mushroom sprouted beneath them, cushioning their landing. They immediately broke apart, and eyed each other warily. A drop of water landed on my nose, making me look up. Dragon stood in the sky, hair whipping in the wind, silhouetted against the dark, roiling clouds above her. Angel had bought her all the time she needed. The spell was complete. That little drop of water became a drizzle, and then a rain, and then a heavy downpour that drenched everything. I gasped. My ears will get wet! They flattened against my head, and I tried to cover them with my hands. Before me, Dragon had flown down, and was wrestling Shorty against the ground. On the other side, Angel had begun incantating, ¡°O mighty god of frozen rains¨C¡± ¡°We forfeit!¡± yelled Evan, against the raging storm and Angel¡¯s incantation. The grey haired instructor suddenly appeared out of nowhere, announcing, ¡°stop! This sparring match is now over!¡± Angel sunk to her knees, and Evan slumped onto the giant mushroom, while Dragon and Shorty struggled to disengage arm from wing from tail. I sat there silently, watching everyone get up and bow, before hi-fives went up all around and Evan began healing Angel¡¯s broken wing. ¡­That¡¯s what they call a sparring match? We were led back into the main building, most of us equal measures impressed and scared. A few others and I entered a classroom, and found the old instructor waiting for us, with that same hawkish composure. Chapter 3: Your New Classmates Are Not Scary ¡°Come in, students, do take a seat,¡± said the instructor with the grey hair, and a faint scar running down his left cheek. He was leant against the wooden lectern in a smallish classroom, smiling warmly. The front and back walls were lime plastered, while the rest were brick, with large windows that lit up the pinewood floor we shuffled across. When we were all seated, he began: ¡°I hope our third years haven¡¯t put you off. It was quite the demonstration.¡± He paused, looking around. ¡°There¡¯s no need to look so skittish now, I know the Major can be quite intimidating, but I¡¯m nothing like her. I take a much more considerate approach to teaching, unlike that ardent woman.¡± He didn¡¯t speak slow, exactly, but something about his tone was laidback, as if each syllable was lagging behind the other one. He spoke like someone who didn¡¯t care for the passing of time. ¡°For the next six months, I will be your primary magic instructor,¡± he continued, before turning to write something on the board, ¡°my name is Dr. Khoroshiydevochka, but you may call me Dr. Khor.¡± No way. This man is Dr. Khor? I would have expected him to be far more¡­ energetic. ¡°I served in the army in my younger days, and now I work as a historian and an academic.¡± He was underselling himself. Andrey Jerusalem Khor served as Lieutenant General to the Second Army Corps in the Southern wars, earning a revered Veronic Star for his heroism and strategic brilliance that allowed the Brent Alliance to secure key points of interest and eventually ensure victory against Ahn Galia. ¡°Now, I believe the first order of business is to get to know your classmates. I have two fun activities prepared for us. Let¡¯s first take turns sharing our name, and something interesting about ourselves.¡± I wanted to curse. Glancing at my classmates, I felt my heartrate pick up. I couldn¡¯t believe he wanted us to share something about ourselves. What should I say? I¡¯m not interesting. I¡¯m just a catboy that lived in a manor in the North with his retired veteran father, practicing magic. This is the first time I¡¯ve travelled past Ulverian borders. How would I not embarrass myself? ¡°I will begin,¡± Dr. Khor went on, ¡°My name is Dr. Khor, and beyond my teaching responsibilities, I run the Duos Tournament every year.¡± Duos tournament? He motioned to the cyan-haired girl sitting at the front, ¡°please stand up and introduce yourself to the class.¡± She jumped up and turned to face us, pigtails bouncing about, squeaking, ¡°hey everyone! I¡¯m Yvonne, and one interesting thing about me is¡­ I love sweet things! Especially cotton candy.¡± Her voice wobbled a little, seemingly from excitement, and she had big, doll-like eyes that made her look twelve years old. She also had the height to match, because the desks were probably three quarters of a metre, and she was only double that. Next, the tallish girl from earlier stood up, announcing, ¡°the name¡¯s Sophia, and I¡¯ve trained for more than eight years in Taekwondo and Rulaian Jiu Jitsu, so don¡¯t mess with me.¡± Noted. Will be staying very far away. A few others introduced themselves, and then a boy with bright sienna coloured dragon wings and blue hair said, ¡°hi. I¡¯m Silvakane, but you can call me Kane. I¡¯m a dragon.¡± ¡­that was really informative. The third year dragon also had blue hair and brown scales. Interesting. ¡°Hello~ My name¡¯s Senna, and I really like cats,¡± said a girl with mismatched eyes, one white, one gold coloured¨Cprobably due to a magical mishap¨Clooking around the room with a pretty smile. ¡°Nice to meet you all,¡± drawled a girl with a strange accent, ¡°my name is Jeanne Churchill, and I am the daughter of the mayor,¡± she finished with a satisfied smirk. Ah. A politician¡¯s daughter. No wonder she looked so high and mighty. The introductions continued, until it was my turn. Oh no. I¡¯d been too busy listening to the others. I quietly slid out of my chair, looking at my feet, uttering, ¡°um, I¡¯m F¨¦lis¡­ and I like history.¡± I glanced up, to find everyone looking at me. Eek! So many pairs of eyes! My tail flickered with agitation, and I sat down, fighting away my blush and my unruly tail. I shouldn¡¯t have picked the back right corner seat, because I went last, and everyone remembers the last introduction the best. ¡°Wonderful! Now, I will separate you all into small groups for the second ice breaker, and these will also be the groups for your first assignment, so I recommend you get to know them. The members of group alpha are F¨¦lis, Senna, Silvakane, Sophia and Yvonne, please move to table one at the back. Just pull that screen across, the handle¡¯s on the left.¡± I found a handle embedded in the back wall, and tugged it, surprised when the wall actually started folding up. It revealed a near symmetrical room opposite, except with six larger tables instead of thirty small ones. The members of group alpha shuffled over to the table marked ¡°1¡±, where there was a tin of pens and a few sheets of paper, one marked, ¡®2 truths, 1 lie¡¯, in cursive scrawl. ¡°Right,¡± Yvonne said suddenly, looking around at us, who were standing around the table, ¡°before we get into it, let¡¯s all share our names again. Just so we¡¯re all on the same page.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Yvonne,¡± she declared, putting a hand on her chest, where a small pendant rested against her shirt, black and gold on white. ¡°And I¡¯m Sophia,¡± said the dark haired one, walking up beside Yvonne. She stood confidently, arms crossed and shirt collar up, exuding an air of¡­ disinterest, perhaps? ¡°I¡¯m Kane, if you don¡¯t remember,¡± said dragonboy, rounding the table to stand next to me. Now standing beside him, I could see he was quite a bit taller and his cropped hair ended in white tints. Most noticeable, though, were his sepia wings, which were hugged tight against his back, and still stuck out impertinently.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°I¡¯m F¨¦lis.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m Senna,¡± said Senna, picking up the sheet with ¡®2 truths, 1 lie¡¯ and flipping it over, mismatched eyes scanning the explanation on the back. ¡°Ooh, let me read it out,¡± exclaimed Yvonne, sidling up to the other girl. I found myself on Senna¡¯s right, leaning over to see past her coffee-coloured hair, with Kane on my other side. ¡°Two Truths, One Lie is an exciting group activity to get to know your team,¡± read Yvonne, ¡°everyone picks the two true most exciting statements about themselves, and makes up one secret false statement, which they write down on the cards. Take turns sharing your statements, and the other members should take their best guess at which statement is a lie. After guesses are made, the speaker reveals the nature of the statements. Remember to make it interesting, informative and fun!¡± ¡°Is that actually what it says?¡± Asked Sophia, leaning over Yvonne¡¯s shoulder, ¡°you didn¡¯t add the cutesy bits, did you?¡± ¡°No, look Soph,¡± she answered, showing her the sheet, with its almost illegible scribbles. ¡°It seems straightforward enough,¡± remarked Kane. We each took a pen and sat down. Yvonne began writing immediately, Senna tapped her pen thoughtfully against her chin and the rest of us stared at our sheets, thinking. What do I write? What do I want them to know about me? I finally came to a decision, and scribbled it down. I laid my pen on the table, and seeing everyone had their cards face down, I turned mine over too. ¡°So who¡¯s going first?¡± Senna queried, tucking away a lock of brown hair and looking around. ¡°I will, if you want,¡± Kane replied. ¡°Can I go first?¡± Asked Yvonne. ¡°You can go first, then, and I¡¯ll be next.¡± She pushed her cards to the centre of the table, and picked up one of them. ¡°Wait!¡± Sophia interrupted, ¡°I¡¯ll sit this one out, since I already know Yvonne.¡± ¡°Good idea,¡± Yvonne answered, and revealed the first card. I caused the arrest of King Steve, previous drug lord of Illumassio. Senna and I both gasped, and Sophia chuckled. Even Kane looked taken aback, his tail stuck up high. Illumassio is the name of a terrible drug cartel operating in the Southern and Central States, mainly harvesting and spreading a horribly addictive substance known as Saccharus. I think I¡¯d smelt the stuff around the shadier corners of Riyemba marketplace. Riyemba city is a hotspot for drug traffickers, since it''s a key connecting city between the Northern and Southern countries, located along the Silke road, where thousands of kilograms of drugs pass through every year. I assume that¡¯s why Riyem Military Academy was built here. No one quite knew how the Verlaian government found and arrested King Steve all those years back, as there were always multiple contradicting rumours floating around. Some said he accidentally slept with the police lieutenant and others say he fed Saccharus to stray ducks, who led officers to his mansion. Senna, Kane, and I each looked at each other. Obvious disbelief written on our faces, but before we could say anything, Yvonne flipped over the next two cards, which read: I sent my home economics teacher to the infirmary when I gave her a spicy tofu dish that was too spicy. I came to the Academy because an officer saved me from bullies, and that really inspired me. ¡°Ok¡­¡± Senna began, looking pointedly at the first and leftmost card ¡°I think I know what the obvious choice is.¡± ¡°But King Steve was known for having a soft spot for children, and opened up multiple orphanages in his home city, Larae,¡± Kane returned, ¡°many people immigrated from the South to escape the wars, and a lot of them have settled in Riyemba. If her orphanage happened to be related to the capture of King Steve, then it would technically be true.¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure this girl has parents,¡± she shot back, motioning towards Yvonne, who was watching the conversation raptly. ¡°Still, we ought to consider the other options,¡± he replied. ¡°Fine¡­¡± she conceded, setting her hands on her hips with a little huff, ¡°the other two look more believable, especially the one about joining the Academy, since military presence in Riyemba has ramped up these years.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right. I just feel like Yvonne here wouldn¡¯t make things so straightforward, no?¡± I nodded in agreement. ¡°I suppose cooking a dish so spicy it sends your teacher who is in charge of cooking and food prep is quite absurd¡­¡± she acquiesced. ¡°Actually, I think you¡¯re right. We should just go for the most obvious choice.¡± ¡°Alright then. Yvonne, we think the one about King Steve is wrong, and the other two are true.¡± Yvonne gave a devilish smile. Looking, along with her pigtails, like a cheeky little rodent. ¡°I¡¯m sorry guys, buuut¡­ you¡¯re wrong! It¡¯s actually the one about joining the Academy.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Senna asked. ¡°Yeah, it was actually Sophia here that helped me,¡± she admitted, giving her friend a side hug, ¡°she wanted to enrol, and I joined so I could be with her.¡± ¡°Awww, that¡¯s really sweet of you.¡± ¡°Hehe, thanks.¡± Kane interrupted, ¡°wait, so the one about King Steve was¡­¡± ¡°Yep. All true. But it¡¯s a long story, and a little bit of a personal one, so I¡¯m not gonna get into it.¡± We, of course, respected her boundaries. What a way to start. I would never have thought someone like you could bring down a criminal even the Shinto Federal Police couldn¡¯t apprehend. This giggling, bright-eyed girl with a uniform two sizes too big did not look like someone that could bring down an infamous drug lord. I couldn¡¯t wait to hear the full story. ¡°So I¡¯m next?¡± Kane said. ¡°Yeah, go on,¡± Sophia returned. She hadn¡¯t spoken for a good while, just watching the conversation unfold quietly, so I¡¯d almost forgotten about her, and jumped a little when she spoke. Kane¡¯s cards read: I sometimes use my tail as a fishing rod. Yvonne burst out laughing, Senna and Sophia both chuckled, while I fought off the rising giggles at the thought of Kane sitting by a river with his big red tail draped over the water, waiting for fish to nibble. I love eating sweets. I have three sisters, but haven¡¯t seen or heard from one of them in almost 3 years. But the last one was quite distressing, if it happened to be true. ¡°Hey,¡± I muttered to him, ¡°your sister¡­ she¡¯s not passed on, right?¡± He shook his head, saying, ¡°nothing like that.¡± We all sighed in relief. ¡°That fishing one is absurd, but I can kinda see it,¡± remarked Sophia, eyeing up Kane¡¯s tail, which was almost twice his height, at best guess. His tail wiggled in place, gave a small wave, then went and poked mine. ¡°Hey!¡± I yelped, pulling my tail to my chest and hugging it. He actually had the audacity to laugh. Turning to the girls, I realised they were all trying to hold in their laughter. ¡°You don¡¯t actually mind, right?¡± He asked me. I shook my head, releasing my tail and letting it fall by my legs. He poked me with his tail again, making my ears twitch. ¡°Okay,¡± Yvonne said, ¡°Soph, I kind of get what you¡¯re talking about. You could probably slap some shrimp paste on the end and just dunk it in a river.¡± ¡°Then let¡¯s say that one¡¯s true, even if I don¡¯t think he¡¯d catch all that many fish.¡± ¡°Then, the other two¡­¡± Soph said. ¡°Sure is a dichotomy,¡± Yvonne finished. We stood there contemplating¨CWhen did we end up standing?--until Senna broke the silence. ¡°I think that one¡¯s the false one,¡± tapping the card about his sisters, ¡°it¡¯s more complicated.¡± ¡°Yvonne and I agree,¡± Soph added, after some short discussion. Four pairs of eyes turned to me. ¡°Uhhh¡­ you don¡¯t look like someone who likes sweets, so, I guess that one?¡± Pointing to the card about his sisters. ¡°Good job. You¡¯re the only one who got it right. I don¡¯t like sweets, much. I do have three sisters, but the oldest, Kara, is currently on a five year long assignment, for her job.¡± What kind of job sends you on five year long assignments where you can¡¯t see your family? This activity was more interesting than I thought it¡¯d be.