Morning light painted stark rectangles on the worn stone floor. The refectory remained unnaturally subdued for us. The weight of Kael's confession hung heavy in the air between bites. I offered Storm a crust of bread; the hawk eyed Kael, who sat rigidly opposite, his impassive mask firmly back in place.
The tense quiet eased slightly when Lira bounded over, her energy cutting through the gloom. "Morning! Heard the news? We're finally getting out! After Beast Journal, the briefing for the class assessment—in Heartwood Forest! Actual trees! Actual dirt!"
Wren perked up instantly. "Assessment? Like, practical?"
"Teams of five," Lira confirmed, plopping down. "Practical survival skills. They assign groups after the lecture." Her gaze swept over us – me, Raven, Wren, Kael. "I wanna be with you lot. Manifestation," a nod to me, "Elemental," to Raven, "Support," to Wren, "Augmentation," herself, "...and whatever Ghost brings." She glanced at Kael, then me hopefully. "Unstoppable?"
Wren agreed immediately. Raven assessed the group with a critical eye. "The composition offers significant tactical advantages. Acceptable." I glanced at Kael. The older boy gave a single, almost imperceptible nod. "Alright," I said, feeling a flicker of anticipation despite the lingering heaviness. "We're a group."
"Excellent!" Lira beamed. "Now move! Beast Journal awaits!"
***
Mrs. Amber stood rigidly behind the podium, her expression severe. "Open your journals. Today: Classification of Mana-Influenced Fauna. Misidentification is paid in blood." She tapped a large chart ranking threats from F to S.
"F-Rank. Minimal mana. Physiological augmentation. Example: Ratruger." She gestured to a sketch of a grotesquely oversized rat. "Weak, slow-witted, but potent disease vectors; lethal in swarms. Crush the skull or sever the spine."
"E-Rank. Enhanced durability/strength. Complex behavior. Example: Razor Crabs." The sketch showed a crab with monstrous, serrated claws. "Shells resist blunt force. Claws shear through materials. Target joints or eyestalks."
"D-Rank. First qualitative shift. Mana manipulation. Example: Dark Fox." A creature of unsettling elegance. "Near-silent movement. Shadow-stepping for concealment. Bright light disrupts them."
"C-Rank. Overt mana manipulation. Intelligence rises. Example: Ice Wolves." Frost visibly formed on the sketch. "Bites/claws inflict localized freezing. Intelligent pack hunters. Vulnerable to sustained heat. Target Alphas."
"B-Rank. Mastery over specific mana. Signature abilities. Example: Blazetail Baboon." A baboon with a tail wreathed in flame. "Berserk State: critically wounded, it ignites catastrophically. Crucial Note: Disengage immediately if you wound one significantly."
"A-Rank. Potent regeneration. Strategic intelligence. Mimicry. Example: Copy Slime." A shifting, translucent blob. "Near-perfect shapeshifting, replicating form, voice, mannerisms, and core magical ability. Crucial note: The Green Glade perimeter is warded safe. Do. Not. Overstep. A Copy Slime is a death sentence."
"S-Rank. Catastrophic threats. Example: Aureus Gryphon." A majestic eagle-lion hybrid. "Signature 'Gilded Lance' vaporizes targets. Survival relies solely on evasion or overwhelming force." She paused, letting the image sink in. "Beyond... Mythic Class. Theoretical or extinct. A wise hunter respects the deep shadows. Dismissed."
A nervous buzz filled the room as we filed out. I noted the Ice Wolves and Blazetails as potential threats within our likely zone. Raven was already analyzing potential engagement tactics. Wren clutched her journal tightly. Lira cracked her knuckles with relish. Kael's gaze remained distant, perhaps recalling Borderlands creatures far worse.
"Lecture digested. Time for groups!" Lira led us to the packed Hall of Echoes.
Principal Thorne stood imposingly at the front. "Teams of five are mandatory. Pre-formed groups, remain together. Others, to the east alcove. You have two minutes."
Our group remained solid, a unit amidst the shuffling crowd. Thorne began reading assignments. "...Adam Ashblade, Raven Vale, Wren Vale, Kael Frost, Lira Wordin: Instructor Garrick."
Instructor Garrick stepped forward from the shadows near the stage. He wasn't tall, but built like a fortress, encased in dark, polished scale leather armor that absorbed the light. An enormous sword's hilt protruded over his shoulder, its worn grip hinting at immense strength and constant use. His sharp eyes scanned us, a quick, professional assessment. "Garrick. North Supply Depot. One hour. Gear issue. Don't dawdle." He turned and strode away without another word.
"Garrick," Lira whispered, a note of respect in her voice. "Solid. Fifteen years on the Northern Border. Zero tolerance. And that sword... saw him cleave a reinforced dummy in half sideways during a demonstration." She nudged me. "Exactly what we need."
"One hour," Raven stated crisply. "Sufficient for sustenance and gear check."
"Food first!" Wren declared, already heading back towards the refectory.
Navigating the crowded North Supply Depot felt like moving against a tide. Long tables groaned under piles of gear: waxed canvas packs, durable ration packs, water skins, compact med-kits, tightly rolled blankets, coils of rope, and basic tool sets. Garrick stood near the exit, watchful and silent, the dark scales of his armor gleaming dully, the sheer bulk of his sheathed sword an imposing presence.
Lira fell into step beside me as we grabbed packs. "Aureus Gryphon..." she muttered, shivering slightly. "Glad we're sticking to warded Green Glade. But a Copy Slime..." She grabbed two ration packs, shoving one into my hands. "Extra fruit and jerky. Protein boost." She looked away quickly, focusing on selecting a water skin.
We collected our kits efficiently under Garrick's silent scrutiny. Dinner was a hurried affair of thick stew and bread in the refectory. Lira secured a corner table.
"Strategy session?" Lira asked, leaning in. "Raven, lay it out. First day priorities."
Raven focused, his grey eyes sharp. "Priority one: Secure running water. Establish defensible camp. Priority two: Identify boundary markers and ward integrity. Priority three: Map key terrain features and potential hazards. Engagement protocol: Strictly reactive. Observation and avoidance first. Combat only as last resort."
"Sounds smart," Wren said, tearing off a piece of bread. "No heroics. Stick together, watch each other's backs. Kael? Forest wisdom? Beyond the lecture hall."
Kael looked up from his stew, his gaze momentarily sharp. "Listen. Not just for beasts. Listen to the forest. Wind tones through branches. Rustles in the undergrowth. Animal calls and their sudden cessation. Watch shadows, how they shift, where they pool. Sudden stillness or unnatural movement. Learn its rhythm before you move." He resumed eating, the brief insight given.
"Listen to the forest," Lira repeated, committing it to memory. "And avoid freezing, copying, or blowing ourselves up." She nudged me. "Ready, Ashblade?"
"As ready as I can be," I replied, glancing at Storm perched on the bench back. "Beats theory scrolls."
"Damn right!" Lira thumped the table softly. "Real trees, real dirt, real sky... maybe a real monster!"
As dusk settled, groups dispersed to final preparations. Instructor Garrick appeared silently at the refectory entrance, a silhouette in his dark armor, the hilt of his sword a brutal promise against the fading light. "Rooms by curfew. Lights out tenth bell. Dawn muster North Gate. Be equipped. Be fed. Be focused." His gaze swept over our table, lingering for a fraction of a second on Kael, before he turned and strode off into the corridor.
Back in our cramped quarters, we checked packs silently by lamplight, ensuring straps were tight, rations secure, water skins full. I lay in the dark long after the others seemed asleep, listening to the Academy settle into its night rhythms. The dangers Mrs. Amber outlined – the freezing bite of an Ice Wolf, the suicidal inferno of a Blazetail, the perfect, predatory mimicry of a Copy Slime – were no longer abstract concepts on a chart. They felt like tangible shadows lurking just beyond the imagined glow of the wards. Tomorrow, the chapter of relative Academy safety closed. The wilder chapter, written in dirt and leaf litter under the watchful eyes of the Heartwood Forest, would begin at dawn.