The art classroom was different from the lecture halls. Quieter. Softer. Natural light poured through tall windows, illuminating rows of easels and tables covered in paint-stained cloths. The smell of oil paint and turpentine hung in the air, mixing with the faint scent of wood and canvas.
Lucid sat at a table with Mary and Brian, each of them with a blank canvas in front of them. The assignment was simple: paint whatever came to mind. Express yourself through art.
'Great,' Lucid thought, staring at the pristine white canvas. 'I can barely express myself through words.'
Mary was already sketching something with charcoal, her broken glasses sliding down her nose every few seconds. She kept pushing them back up with her paint-stained fingers, leaving little smudges on the bridge. Brian had his tongue sticking out slightly, completely focused on carefully mixing colors on his palette.
"So, Lucid," Mary said without looking up from her sketch. "You said you're from Tyriana, right?"
Lucid glanced at her. "Yeah. Why?"
"It's just interesting, that's all. Tyriana is the only piece of land the kingdom has in the continent of Ashten. Did you know it's one of the pillars of Vex?"
Lucid blinked. "Pillars of what?"
Mary looked at him like he'd just asked what color the sky was. "Vex. The treaty system that maintains the balance of power between kingdoms. Tyriana is strategically important because of its position. It's basically the kingdom's foothold in Ashten."
"Oh. Right. That."
Brian chuckled quietly, dabbing his brush in yellow paint. "You really don't know much about this stuff, do you?"
"I... don't follow politics," Lucid said defensively. "And I've been... traveling."
Mary pushed her glasses up again, studying him with those sharp eyes behind the cracked lenses. "But even so these are simple ones, Oh! Were your ancestors fleeing Tyriana when they established the town? A lot of the original settlers were refugees from the border conflicts with Materna."
Lucid paused. He remembered arriving on Tyriana through that forest he woke up in. The noble with the double personality, the one he'd saved from falling further down the omega rift, Karmen and the quiet half bovine demi-human Rebecca. Were the only first real interaction with anyone in this world. Everything before that was just fragments, confusion, darkness.
"The town is doing better than ever," Lucid said carefully. "The governor is hard at work."
'Yeah,' he thought bitterly. 'A governor who's a musician and a bard that drinks and laughs with one personality, then switches to being dead serious when he actually does his work. Real stable leadership there.'
Mary nodded thoughtfully. "Materna has always resented not having complete control of Ashten. But because of Vex, they can't just invade. So they use other methods. Subtle manipulation. Political pressure. I heard they've been working on the young heir, Karmen, for years now."
Lucid's hand tightened slightly on his brush. Karmen. The one who'd sent him on this mission. The one who wanted his older dead older brother's blueprints retrieved, no matter the cost.
"Politics," Lucid muttered. "Always politics."
"It's how the world works," Mary said. She sounded almost apologetic about it. "Power, influence, manipulation. The strong control the weak, and the smart control the strong."
Brian hummed in agreement, completely absorbed in his painting. He was creating something with careful, deliberate strokes. Lucid couldn't tell what it was yet, but there was something methodical about the way Brian worked.
Before Lucid could respond, a shout erupted from across the room.
"EUREKA!"
Everyone looked up. A boy stood in front of his easel, arms spread wide, face beaming with absolute confidence. He had brown curly hair that bounced when he moved, hazel eyes that sparkled with self-satisfaction, and a black badge pinned to his chest.
"Behold my truly magnificent masterpiece!" he declared loudly, gesturing at his canvas like a showman revealing the grand finale of a magic trick.
The professor, a patient-looking old woman with kind eyes and silver hair tied in a neat bun, walked over. She had the expression of someone who had seen this exact scenario play out many times before.
"Garfield," she said gently, peering at the canvas. "That is..."
The painting was terrible. Not just bad, but aggressively awful. The proportions were wrong. The colors clashed in ways that hurt to look at. It appeared to be a landscape, maybe, or possibly a portrait, or perhaps an abstract representation of confusion itself.
"...certainly unique," the professor finished diplomatically.
Garfield beamed like she'd just crowned him king of the art world. "I knew you'd appreciate my vision, Professor!"
Mary leaned over to Lucid and whispered, "That's Garfield Ashford. His family is renowned for their swordsmanship and battle prowess. He is from a lineage of warriors and his eldest brother just graduated from the academy with top honors, he is a knight now. Everyone expected Garfield to follow the same path."
"But he chose art instead?" Lucid asked quietly.
"He chose art instead," Mary confirmed. "His family is furious about it. They put enormous pressure on him to give it up and train with the sword. But he refuses. Art is his passion, his motivation, his entire life."
"He's terrible at it," Lucid observed.
"He's spectacularly terrible at it," Mary agreed. "But he doesn't seem to realize that. Or maybe he does and just doesn't care."
Brian continued painting, unbothered by the commotion. His focus was absolute, his movements precise and careful.
"EUREKA!" Garfield shouted again, spinning around to face the class. "I shall now grant you all the privilege of witnessing my art before the public eye sees it! This masterpiece will hang in my family's manor, right above the fireplace!"
He marched over to their table, stopping directly in front of Brian. "You there! Big fellow! What are you working on?"
Brian looked up, startled. "Oh, um, just... doodling, I guess."
Garfield leaned over to look at Brian's canvas. His eyes went wide. The entire class fell silent.
Brian's painting was magnificent. A landscape of rolling hills under a sunset sky, with light breaking through clouds in rays of gold and orange and deep purple. The detail was extraordinary, the technique flawless, the composition breathtaking.
"Such... such artistry," Garfield breathed. "How? HOW? A mere silver—" He caught himself, his expression shifting. "No. Talent comes in all shapes and forms. YOU! Big guy! Be my assistant!"
Brian blinked. "What?"
"My assistant! My apprentice! Together we shall create art that transcends the boundaries of—"
The professor walked by, glanced at Brian's painting, and made a note in her ledger. "Full marks, Brian. Excellent work."
Brian's face turned red. "Oh. Thank you, Professor."
Lucid watched everything unfold with a detached sort of fascination. Garfield was now trying to convince Brian to form an artistic partnership. Brian looked overwhelmed and confused. Mary was taking notes in the margins of her sketchbook, probably cataloging every detail of the interaction for future reference.
'This place is insane,' Lucid thought.
His mind drifted. The incident on the train through the Void. The way the creature had torn through the dimensional barrier like it was made of paper and snatched him. Neptune, the deity he'd slain against his will. The mission Karmen had given him, the one that could go catastrophically wrong, to retrieve blueprints from a noble house that seems really suspicious.
Everything felt like it was spiraling toward something. He just didn't know what.
"Hey."
Lucid blinked. Mary was looking at him with concern, her head tilted slightly. "Don't be down. We're almost done for the day anyway."
"I'm not down," Lucid said automatically.
Mary didn't look convinced, but she didn't push. Instead, she brightened slightly. "Oh, that reminds me! Have you picked an assigned team for the upcoming Cleansing?"
Lucid stared at her. "Cleansing?"
"You don't know about the Cleansing?" Mary asked, surprised. "It's a curriculum event where they send students to the Blue Forests to eliminate Unfaithful Beasts. It's a test to see if you're worthy to advance to the Epsilon Rift. Only promising students can participate in Epsilon, so the Cleansing is how they measure your capability."
"They send students to fight monsters," Lucid said flatly.
"Yes. In teams of four, usually. It's mandatory for all second-years."
'Of course it is.'
"EUREKA!" Garfield shouted again, spinning around with his arms spread wide. "I shall join your team! The Silver Misfits!"
He pointed dramatically at Brian. "Assistant! You shall protect me while I document our journey through art! I will reward you handsomely!"
"Wait, what?" Mary said. "We didn't agree to—"
"Silver Misfits!" Garfield repeated, grinning. "It's perfect! A team of underdogs rising to greatness!"
Lucid looked down at his own canvas. At some point, without really thinking about it, he'd started painting. A woman's face stared back at him from the canvas. Soft features, green flowing hair, emerald eyes that seemed to hold entire forests within them. A gentle smile.
"Lucid, who is that?" Mary asked, leaning over to look.
Lucid paused, his brush hovering in the air. "A... friend."
"Just a friend?" Alice's voice came in his mind, and there was something in her tone. Something that might have been hurt.
Lucid chuckled quietly. He didn't answer.
"EUREKA!" Garfield shouted yet again, practically vibrating with excitement. "We shall come up with a proper name for our team! Something that strikes fear into the hearts of our enemies!"
"Wait, we—" Mary started.
"YES!" Garfield declared. "THE GROUP OF SILVER MISFITS! No, wait. THE SILVER MISFIT BRIGADE! No, no. THE LEAGUE OF EXTRAORDINARY SILVER BADGES!"
"Can we maybe vote on this?" Brian asked weakly.
"DEMOCRACY HAS NO PLACE IN ART!" Garfield proclaimed.
Mary sighed, pulling off her broken glasses to rub her eyes. "This is going to be a disaster."
Lucid looked at the three of them. Garfield, gesturing wildly as he proposed increasingly ridiculous team names. Brian, looking equal parts confused and flattered by the attention. Mary, trying to organize the chaos into something manageable.
'Silver Misfits,' Lucid thought, glancing down at his own silver badge. 'Yeah. That sounds about right.'
The woman in his painting smiled back at him, green eyes knowing and kind. Somewhere in his mind, Alice was quiet.
The art class bell rang. Students began packing up their supplies, cleaning brushes, covering canvases. Garfield was still shouting about team names. Brian was trying to politely decline the assistant position. Mary was writing something in her notebook, probably a comprehensive analysis of everything that had just happened.
And Lucid sat there, staring at a painting of someone he shouldn't know how they looked like, but couldn't forget either.
'What a mess,' he thought.