Fall of Autumn, Week 5, Day 1

I let the cool air of the courtyard take my attention as I sank down to the packed dirt. The chill was multiplied by the sweat beading on my skin. At some point, I'd taken off my sweater. Mimicking the faux instructor's movements was difficult without muscle memory. The little experience I had with Dame Arella was useless in this context. It was all basic movements, teaching me a Skill rather than skill.

That wasn't to say I was doing poorly. I couldn't possibly have been doing worse than the boy who tripped over his own two feet and nearly took out his eye when he fell. My Dexterity and Endurance were working together to help my movements, which meant my first attempts were abysmal —but I was able to work without fatigue building up for a long while. Not forever, though.

[Quick Calculation] told me I'd worked a good two hours before realizing everyone else had long since started to flag and take breaks —only the other Mythril kids had kept up. But after another half hour, even they were looking rough. When Uriel and Remour had stopped within moments of each other, I took stock of the class and promptly allowed myself to collapse.

Everyone had taken some form of break, though I couldn't say the thought even occurred to me.

I can't be complacent, not now, not ever. To bend, I need to be strong enough not to break. I took a deep, gulping breath. I need to be the God of Nora.

I laid back, letting my head rest in the dirt. My hair was sticking to my face with sweat, and I'd long since come to regret the heavy hairstyle.

I'd do it again, though. The care proves the progress. I felt a smile creep across my face before it quickly fell, and my expression returned to neutrality. I refuse to live like I'm dead. It's the least I can do after Sir Rellar.

I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of labored breaths filling the courtyard. It was a reminder that everyone had something to fight for. Family, friends, power. Everyone had something.

At this point, I was just glad I had anything.

It was odd to be sitting surrounded by people, with my muscles thrumming, and to realize that I was one of the people who 'had something.' Maybe Dame Arella wasn't quite a friend, but Clara, Clarence, and Philip could be. And maybe Sir Limrick was just there to protect me, but he did it with kindness and grace and humor. And there was potential with Juniper, even though Gristle told me I should keep a distance. Klein and Arlen, too. They were funny, and Klein is a little mean, but they are good.

I took a slow breath and some of the weight I carried lifted at the realization. Because at the top of the list were my own creations. Noir, Haze, Shade, and all the spirits that filled them. They were truly supporters, friends, family. In a world where I alone had memories of elsewhere, they shared in my knowledge. They mourned with me, loved with me, danced and played and sang with me.

I glanced at where my bag was sitting, Noir tucked safely inside, and I smiled. A small thing, but it was there.

"Ah… Nora?" Remour quietly asked.

I looked over at the pink-haired girl, "Yeah?"

"Were you able to get a Skill?" As she asked the question, her face flushed, "Sorry, sorry— I shouldn't—"

"I didn't," I cut her off, shaking my head.

Actually, I didn't get a Skill even when Dame Arella was training me.

"Oh! Um, you'll definitely get one! I just, you just, you just moved like you got one—a Skill, I mean!" As Remour spoke, her face got progressively more crimson.

I let out a huff, "It's fine. If I don't get a Skill, I'll switch to a different weapon —or just keep practicing with it. There's no harm in soft skills, after all."

I knew I hadn't spoken much up to then, and I knew it had been overwhelming, but there was something about exhaustion that settled my nerves entirely. Perhaps it was that I couldn't tell the difference between the sting of fatigue and a prick of anxiety. Either way, it was the ease of conversation I'd been wanting.

Even if I had wanted that conversation to be with Juniper, beggars can't be choosers.

"I didn't mean to—" Remour started up again but was interrupted by one of the boys.

"Calm down, Remy, she isn't offended." Louis cut in, his voice just loud enough to carry to us but not to the rest of the courtyard. He had a wide grin on his face as he looked between us. "Are you?"

"No," I said simply. Then, because Remour still didn't look any less flushed, I added, "Not even a little. Did you get a Skill?"

Remour, somehow beyond logic, grew even more red, "Oh, well, I already had a sword Skill."

Suddenly, Louis was settling between us —Remour and I were a good fifteen feet apart, and he sat comfortably in the middle.

"Remy always picks a sword," Louis complained, his face in a dramatic frown. "In the last lunar year, she hasn't picked a single other weapon! Not since I've known her!"

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"I, um, I Awakened from Slumber with a sword Skill," Remour said quietly, barely loud enough to hear.

I paused at the phrase. It was deeply religious —to call pre-Awakening Slumber. The term was tied to the reality of creation, that this world was manifested by the Gods themselves. It had less to do with actually being awake and more to do with being able to progress, to take steps towards Divinity, no matter how difficult those steps were for an average person.

No one I'd met until now really talked of it.

"Oh?" I hummed, tilting my head to the side. Briefly, I considered leaving it there. But then I remembered the vow I'd made upon arriving at Fellan. That I wouldn't hide, that I would grow. So, I continued, "I got a utility Skill, good for sneaking, bad for fighting."

Thinking of [Silent as a Shadow], and how little Eunora would feel about the Skill, I was confident that she would have been devastated to know the System saw her hiding and thought it a key experience to her growth. That the governing body of progress saw her, unseen and unheard, and thought she should continue being so.

"That's so cool," Louis sighed. "I got a weird Skill. Can't even call it a utility, with how many limits there are on it."

I felt a small laugh bubble up, "I'm sure it has its uses, even if they are extremely specific."

"Yeah, well," Louis grumbled before suddenly perking up and holding up the end of the wooden sword lying next to him. "Hey! I bet you I'll get a weapon Skill before you."

I narrowed my eyes, "What do you want to bet?"

Louis's grin widened, "How about lunch? Loser pays for all of Mithril."

"Dea-" I stopped short, realization coming too late, "I can't. I have lessons after practicals at the Academy."

Running his hand along his chin, Louis harrumphed, "Well, how about loser brings lunch tomorrow?"

"I only come on odd days, minus Seventh Day, so I could bring something on one of those days," I mused before peeking over at Louis, "If I lose."

"Deal," Louis rushed out, leaning back on his hands, a smug grin on his face.

"Swindler!"

Whipping my head around, I watched as Beck stormed over and whacked Louis on the back of the head. Louis fell forward, head in his lap, as a wild cackle burst out of him.

"You're too late, Gills, I've already got her!"

I blinked.

"You absolute idiot, why? Why, why, why? Couldn't you wait a bit? A month, a week, a day?" Beck whisper-shouted at Louis, and while it was funny, it was less so when I realized Beck was talking about Louis swindling me.

"You have to strike while the iron's hot!" Louis said through his laughter.

Beck whacked him over the head again, "Idiot!"

"You already said that," Louis said lightly, finally sobering up enough to speak without breaking into another fit of cackles.

"Hello?" I asked, leaning forward and supporting my head in my hands and my elbows on my knees, "Someone care to enlighten me?"

Louis grinned like the cat that got the canary, and Beck groaned, "Louis has an affinity for weapon Skills. He's trying for a sword style Skill right now. He's all but guaranteed to get it by tomorrow—"

Beck cut himself off, turning toward Louis with a skeptical eye, "If he doesn't have it already."

Louis, somehow, looked even more satisfied than before as he said, "Guilty."

The three of them paused after that, though, because I felt a hearty laugh bubble up, and they were too busy staring at me to continue bantering. After a beat, they also joined in.

"I know I should be offended, but I don't really care," I said eventually, my laugh fading into a warm feeling settling in my stomach. "Anybody have any all-"

I stopped myself mid-word. Because it wouldn't matter. I knew the answer.

Allergies. Allergies don't exist here. Can I even talk about them?

I paused, waiting for [Tight Lips] to activate, waiting for it to tell me I've shared something I shouldn't have, that my life in elsewhere was going to be sealed and taken away.

That message never came, and instead, Louis, Beck, and Remour stared at me expectantly.

"Oh, uh, sorry, lost my thought," I huffed, "Any requests for lunch next time?"

"Just like that?" Louis perked up,

My smile quirked, "A hustle is a hustle, just like that."

"Something with meat," Beck chimed in. "Definitely something with meat."

I nodded, "Got it. Remour? Anything you'd like?"

The doll-like girl paused, about to shake her head, before Beck huffed, "Just say it Remy, you love sweets."

Remour blushed once again, "Fine, I'd like a dessert, please."

I nodded, "That I can do."

Well, probably. I hadn't actually asked the cooks for anything other than the knight dinner when I'd first arrived. I just ate whatever they made, whether I liked it or not. But the Fellan estate was filled with warmth, even Gristle was kind—if serious. And, for all I pretended I wasn't, I was still a Dawn.

I glanced over at the Hyperion, who was leaning up against his training spear and peering at the four of us.

"What about you, Uriel? Any requests?" I asked.

His honey eyes narrowed, and after a long moment, he finally said, "Something easy to eat."

I nodded, "Got it."

"All right!" Instructor Druigach called, clapping her hands, "Gather up! I have next week's Monster Manuals. They're the first Winter manuals, so I want you all to memorize them before we start lessons on First Day."

As the class began to gather, I grabbed my sweater and pulled it on. The shadow weave made me feel stronger just by its proximity and, as such, made me feel better about the line forming in front of the instructor.

Druigach continued talking, handing each child a booklet as she did so, "Whether you come for theory classes or not, you need to be aware of the threats surrounding Fellan. You all know this, but the borderlands are dangerous —not just because we're next to the Empire. Monsters spawn more frequently here, and beasts grow corrupted in the edge lands of Maeve. I will say it as many times as it takes to sink in: knowledge is power. And power keeps you alive."

She paused as I stepped forward, her eyes scrutinizing me for a long moment.

"That holds true for someone of any class."

I heard the capital 'C' she didn't say, loud and clear.

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