Dungeons and Dalliances Ch. 027-039

A spindly-looking girl was the worst of the bunch; she looked like she'd blow away with the wind. Natalie's biceps might be bigger than her thighs, and Natalie wasn't especially bulky. More so than most girls, obviously, having grown up fighting and training till she was exhausted, day in and day out, but she was, ultimately, still a girl. It was hard to pack on the same amount of muscle boys could.

That gender disparity vanished quickly as a person leveled up, and muscles mattered less ... but the gap existed as a level one. She was looking forward to it not. It wouldn't take long. Only a few levels, even—by three or four, the difference would have disappeared entirely.

There were two students of the collected eight that didn't have the typical 'academic' look of a mage. Likely, they were the ones in Natalie's situation. Though, it made Natalie wonder why the mage-looking students were in the beginner's course, without her excuse? Natalie sucked at magic, but she was good in a fight. For any number of reasons, she guessed. Everyone had a story.

Tess—the student instructor—arrived sharply at 8:00.

2.02 - Fumble

"Okay, everyone, settle down. My name is Tess, and I'll be your instructor this morning." Her words were loud and clear, cutting through the two pockets of chatting students. "Just to make sure everyone is in the right place, this is an introductory session, where we'll be doing a quick overview of the fundamentals of spellcasting before moving to self-guided practice, where I'll walk around and help where I can. Good?" Tess surveyed the concrete pad with a slow gaze, making sure nobody had ended up in her lesson by accident. "Good. Now, line up, will you?" She waved her hand in a swishing motion, indicated for them to organize in a half circle.

They did so.

"That's better," Tess said. "Now, let me preface this by saying there's only so much I can do. A general lesson is impossible. Everyone's system is unique, and it's on you to discover your spells' quirks and most efficient uses. I'm here to help where I can, but there's many of you, one of me. This is assisted self-learning, as I said. Not a one-on-one apprenticeship."

Cool grays eyes scanned over the assembled first years. Tess had a stern, though not unfriendly, demeanor. She stood with her hands behind her back, chin tilted slightly up, and wearing an impassive expression. She had black hair done up in a tight bun, and brown skin—a darker shade, the sort of color found more commonly in Lircann than Valhaur. Her glasses were thin-rimmed, round, and large.

Though she was an instructor in an informal way—a student volunteer—she had the air of someone who did this for a living. The red badge on her shoulder indicated 'third year'. Obviously, the badge on her other shoulder bore the icon and color of a mage: blue, with a wizard's hat. Engraved on the same badge, a bold, noticeable 'II'. A mid-ranker ... likely somewhere from level six to ten. As expected from a Tenet third year.

"But," Tess said, "despite that each of our methods of spellcasting will have their own quirks, there is a commonality in all processes. First, the focus state, and second, the drawing of mana. The third stage—spell activation—is where we diverge. For now, let's focus on the first two."

Unfortunately, Natalie was a disaster at all stages, not just the portion of spellcasting specific to her class. She knew the basics of magic, and nothing Tess had said had come as a surprise. Natalie had learned years ago that she was awful at the intense focus required to start drawing mana—and even worse at unstructured magic, the portion of spellcasting where skills and classes weren't required.

For that type of casting, it took Natalie immense effort and energy to even manage the simplest of spells. Fortunately, skill-based spells were much easier. She could get [Illusion] to trigger, but not fluidly, not as potently as she'd want, and not in chaotic environments where her attention was focused on more important things, like an opponent swinging a sword at her. Which meant it was fairly useless, as things stood. Seeing how spars were coming up in just an hour and a half, that wasn't great.

Tess talked the group through the first two stages. The usual advice was given: steady her thoughts, breathe evenly, focus on the enigmatic core of energy deep in her stomach. Then, form an image in her mind of extracting and molding the energy.

Natalie did poorly, as usual.

After a few rounds of that, Tess indicated for them to practice the full process themselves, stating that she'd go around and help in the finer details of the last stage.

Time passed. Before Natalie knew it, she'd worked up a sweat. She managed to get [Illusion] to trigger a few times, though to typical mediocre results. She was halfway through stumbling through the process the fifth or sixth time when Tess arrived at her side.

"You shouldn't close your eyes," she commented. "It doesn't help as much as you think, and isn't something you can get away with in a fight."

"Gee," Natalie snapped, the spell fizzling at the break in her concentration. "Never would've guessed."

Tess raised her eyebrows, and Natalie—though incensed—immediately felt bad.

"Sorry. This is just—" she huffed, and threw her hands up. "Well. You know."

"Not your specialty, I'm taking it." Tess didn't seem upset at Natalie's irritation. She mostly seemed amused, and a tad sympathetic. "Hybrid class?"

"Paladin," Natalie answered.

Tess hummed. "You'll get the hang of it. You just have to bash it into your skull until it's second nature. It's a process we all go through."

A thought flicked through her head, one Natalie recognized as arrogance. She wasn't used to having to wait for something to be second nature. Which wasn't to say she was good at anything she tried to do, but the path she'd chosen—fighting—she'd never had to struggle with. She'd pushed to be the best she could, of course, but it hadn't been a struggle for adequacy. Rather, excellence.

Struggling to not be horrible was ... kind of frustrating.

"If you want to share the skill," Tess said, "I might be able to offer some tips."

"Illusion," Natalie said. No point in keeping such an obvious skill a secret. And, she desperately did need some tips. "Visual and auditory, but only small."

Tess considered this. She gestured for Natalie to try again. "Let's see it."

2.03 - Mace

"Hm," Tess said. "You keep gravitating to gestures."

"I know." Natalie had to stop herself from snapping at the other girl. Tess was actually patient and overall pleasant, not pushy or condescending, but Natalie's continued incompetence made it hard to keep her temper in check. "I'm trying not to."

"Why?"

"Why?" Natalie was taken aback by the question. "Because ... it's bad?"

"Why is it bad?"

Great. She was being prodded to figure something out. Tess's tone made that clear enough. "Because being able to cast with your head is better for versatility."

"Sure," Tess said easily. "That's the general advice. But what did I say about general advice?"

"That it doesn't apply to everyone. But this does, doesn't it?" Natalie had no intentions of half-assing the learning process and falling back on crutches, even if she was struggling.

"But you're a hands-on girl," Tess pointed out. "I can recognize a fighter when I see one."

Funny enough, that had gone both ways.

"And?"

"So maybe your class expects you to use gestures," Tess said. "You're really gravitating to them."

Natalia had noticed that too. Her limbs were itching to be in motion. But everyone else was simply holding their hand out, at the most. Clearly, that was the right way to go about things.

"But in a fight, I'll need my hands for fighting," Natalie said, trying to keep the exasperation from her voice. "So even if I did better, it's pointless."

Tess nodded to the side of the courtyard. "Go grab one."

Natalie blinked, then looked in the direction she'd indicated. A rack sat there, hosting a collection of varied wooden weapons. "Seriously?"

Tess quirked her eyebrow. She was patient, but she also wasn't afraid to make it known she was the expert here. And who was Natalie kidding? Tess did know better.

Natalie sighed, then jogged over to the rack.

She surveyed the options available to her. Tenet had covered all bases when it came to the stockpile. Her eyes naturally fell to the blunted training sword. Swords were the most common fighting utensil among melee adventurers, for good reason. In trained hands, their versatility was hard to beat. But Natalie could wield most of the weapons in the rack, besides the most eccentric. Maces, spears, swords, polearms—she'd gotten her hands on each, and trained to at least a non-embarrassing standard.

Like many fighters, she'd avoided locking herself into a specific weapon in case the class she accepted couldn't utilize it. She still hadn't decided, specifically, which she'd stick with. Maybe she'd continue to keep her options open, so that whatever weapon she found first in the dungeon, she could use. Letting fate decide had a certain appeal. It also didn't.

Something one-handed might be the best choice. As a tank, odds were high she'd want a shield. Not all tanks wielded one, but the majority did. So ... a mace? Something simple, for now? Probably not what she'd stick with forever, but Natalie let her first choice guide her. Her hand closed around the handle of a simple training mace: long smooth shaft with a heavy orb at the top. She weighed it in her hand, then shrugged. It was much lighter than it ought to be, but these were clearly weren't meant for real combat. To be used like Natalie was about to: as a simple prop in spellcasting coordination.

She returned to Tess. Tess made no comment over her choice of weapon.

"Go ahead," she said, gesturing for Natalie to continue.

"Go ahead what?"

"You're a fighter," Tess said. "And you're fidgeting trying to cast. Focus, gather your mana, then let your body guide you."

"But—"

Tess's raised eyebrows cut over further complaints. Natalie muttered, but did as told.

She had to fight not to close her eyes. Whatever Tess said, it helped her focus massively. Though, her point about being horrible in combat—though obvious—was much, much more salient than simple gestures to aid in spells. Close your eyes in the middle of a spar for more than a blink, things wouldn't go well.

She collected her thoughts and focused inwardly on the orb of power in her stomach.

The imagery she conjured wasn't that different from her 'advance' skill. Instead of a pink orb, though, the essence sloshing around was blue, and she extracted rather than pushed into. It was all in her head. Each person apparently had their own mental guides to aid the process.

Funny enough, Tess helped Natalie in more ways than simple advice. Natalie didn't particularly like making an idiot of herself, but triply so in front of a pretty girl. She gave the spellcasting a bit more elbow grease than usual. And no longer trying to rein in the itching desire to summon the spell through her movements, she took stance and swiped the air with her mace.

Thank the heavens, the spell didn't fizzle. [Illusion] activated, and the mana she'd withdraw from that imaginary orb—and been holding, vibrating, somewhere in the back of her head—expended, and a bright flash of light popped in front of her. She'd gone for something simple. A bright light, enough to temporarily blind, could do wonders applied at the right time in a spar.

Tess blinked the flash out of her eyes, having been looking right where Natalie had been aiming. She had let the spell hit her. She was a mid-ranker, and a mage no less—she could have shrugged the simple effect if she had wanted to.

"That felt better?" Tess asked.

"Sure, but it's not efficient." That had been the crux of her argument from the start.

"You think it telegraphs the spell."

"I don't think. It does."

"And you think monsters will recognize your tells?"

Natalie paused. It was, of course, a great point. "But duels."

"So you're a duelist?"

"Well ... no. But still. And some of the smarter monsters might catch on."

"Only if it drags long enough for them to start recognizing patterns. That's not common down in the dungeon, even for boss fights. Besides, are tells that big a deal?"

Natalie was learning to hate those raised eyebrows. Though, the rational part of her told her it was deserved. Tess was only stating the obvious ... just, not obvious at the time.

"I don't think they are," Tess said, answering her own question. "And besides, you could have several gestures for each spell. It's not as crippling as you think. Sure, it locks you in to specific movements, but you can play around with that. Assuming someone studies your style, you can make plays based on their assumptions. Make that motion, they'll expect an illusion of some sort—or that specific flash you sent. But don't, one time. At a critical moment."

"That's true." But she wasn't fully sold. Even though it sounded stupid to her own ears, she repeated the claim from earlier. "But everyone says gestures are a crutch."

"It's best if you can divorce movement from spellcasting," Tess conceded. "In a perfect world, you would. But, really, it's not that bad. Trust me."

"I guess."

"Or trust your superiors," Tess said. "Go study the styles of some fighter-mage hybrids. You'll see that some of them—even high rankers—lock certain spells to certain movements. Makes it easier to balance physical combat with magical."

Tess patted her back.

"It's your choice, ultimately. Keep practicing. I've gotta help the others. If you want my opinion, let your body guide you. I'll make my way back around."

2.04 - Sparring Class

Under Tess's tutelage, Natalie made surprisingly good progress. Certainly more than she had by herself, bashing her head against a wall back at Tinford. While Titus—her, Jordan, and Sofia's primary mentor—knew his way around weapons, he was as poor at spellcasting as Natalie. That might've been one of the reasons she'd been hopeless at it. With proper training, she hoped she could crawl out of mediocrity. Or maybe to mediocrity, by Tenet standards.

At 9:20, a bell rang through the training facility, announcing that personal hours were over, and that it was time for Natalie to make her way to her class for official training—spars, primarily, which doubled as combat instruction.

Admittedly, she was anticipatory as she trekked through the polished halls of the facility, headed for the sparring room her schedule indicated. It was time to meet her class ... the fifteen other individuals she'd be spending the year with. And fighting against.

Or, thirteen. She'd only be meeting thirteen of them, because two, she already knew. In either a stroke of unlikely coincidence or intentional arrangement by Tenet—Natalie suspected the second—she, Jordan, and Sofia had been put in the same class; they'd noticed it at lunch by comparing classroom numbers.

Sheer chance seemed unlikely, so Tenet must have grouped them together intentionally. It was a given the process wasn't entirely random, because they needed to balance a classroom's composition to have a roughly equal spread of roles—some mages, some fighters, and so on.

But that they lumped students together with more deliberation than just composition did come as a surprise. Not that Natalie was complaining. It meant she and Jordan were in the same class. Though, Sofia too, so not wholly ideal. But worth it, in the long run, especially since the three of them were teaming. It wasn't like Natalie hadn't already spent years tolerating her rival's presence. Just part of life, at this point.

Finding the appropriately marked number, Natalie walked into the sparring room she would be becoming intensely acquainted with over the following year.

Naturally, Natalie's eyes sought out Jordan, who had turned to see who had arrived—probably waiting for Natalie. Natalie raised a hand in greeting, gave a begrudging nod to Sofia as well, who was next to Jordan, then scanned the rest of her classmates as she walked over.

Most had arrived, though at a brief survey, one or two hadn't. They still had a few minutes before they'd be late.

Natalie recognized another of her classmates, which, considering the size of Tenet's years, was more than she could have hoped for. It was the girl with short black hair—one bright streak of blue—who had been talking the ear off of a rather unenthusiastic-looking blonde bed-neighbor back at the barracks.

Like the first time Natalie had seen her, she was chatting up a storm, and again, to someone who didn't match her eagerness in half. Though, that'd be hard, considering how animated the girl was. The boy at least didn't look like he wanted to be away ... he just seemed bored. Though, more of a passive boredom, like an expression he always wore. He nodded along here and there, adding to the conversation when appropriate.

Natalie could swear she recognized him, too, but she scraped her brain and came up empty. It clicked a second later, when she caught a snippet of his voice: Natalie recognized him as 'Mister Adair', from the briefing Harper had given. One of the interrupters.

Someone whose face Harper had put to a name to ... so someone important? Though, Harper hadn't been afraid to insult him, either. That might be because Harper herself had her own family name protecting her. Most people weren't in Natalie's situation—a girl from the middle of nowhere, without a single connection to speak of.

Arriving at Jordan's side, she gave the usual, "Hey."

"Hey. How'd it go?"

"Good, actually. Made some progress." She frowned. "It's weird being around a bunch of mages, though. And a headache."

"Headache?"

"Spells flying everywhere? I was in this big courtyard, lots of other people. Everyone kept their stuff contained, but it was still ... annoying." With the arrival of Natalie's class, she'd gained a passive awareness of magic she hadn't had before. She could feel it. In the back of her head, whenever a spell went off. Multiplied by however many dozens of people had been there, it'd been more than a bit annoying. There had been stronger spells going off, too, by higher level Tenet students—or instructors. Those left more than just a hum. They vibrated her bones, even with the distance between her and them. "You recognize anyone here?"

"No. You do?"

"Well, sort of." Natalie nodded at the chatty girl. "She's in my barracks. Recognize the dude from yesterday's briefs. Haven't talked to either, though."

"We'll need to, eventually," Jordan said thoughtfully. "We ought to get to work on putting together a party." She scanned the thirteen students—the last two had arrived—and nodded idly. "Hopefully most of them aren't taken. Doesn't look like there's too many cliques."

Funny enough, she, Jordan, and Sofia seemed to be the established group. There were a few people talking, but they didn't seem like friends—at best, they recognized each other, but only in a casual sort of way. Six or seven were standing aside, arms crossed or hands in their pockets and leaning against a wall, waiting for their instructor to arrive.

Which happened in short order. Almost at the exact moment the bell went off, in strode a tall woman with white hair. White, like Sofia—a Theliosian. They had rather distinctive looks. The darkest their hair got, as a general rule, was shiny silver.

"Good morning, class," she said in a brisk tone. "My name is Instructor Robin." Her eyes flicked across the gathered students, mouth moving barely as she counted heads. "Sixteen. All of you. Good. Let's go. If we're quick to the armory, before things are crowded, we can get out quick. Then, we might be able to some spars in." That said, she strode out the room, waving a hand for them to follow.