The next morning found a progression of students from all programs slowly walking to a nearby temple. It was to be a once in a lifetime occasion, so Ioha expected them all to wear some strange garb suited to a religious ritual, but instead everyone wore their school uniforms. Sure, they were all shiny and new, but he felt almost disappointed how matter of factly they took the opportunity to meet ones patron god. The ritual would take the entire day, because the temple only had three small altar rooms and every student who had shown any kind of magical affinity needed to pray inside alone until a connection and mutual wow was established and with it the ability to actually use any magic. Praying, if he understood, was a misnomer as well. Each student spent their time alone eventually meeting a god, but there was no script to follow. Some did indeed pray, some danced or sang, some rambled incoherently and each of them had to find their own way to participate in a divine audience.
Silence ruled over the progression, a lot more subdued than any other gathering between students the last two day. This day was important, maybe the most important of any day for a young person on their first fumbling steps into adulthood. You'd meet one god, and which god, and how the meeting panned out decided your future, or at least your future as a spellcaster.
Worried looks mixed with scared ones, and any conversation, the few there were, ran in whispers and mumblings. One after another a student entered the temple but none returned, After their revelations they were led out through a backdoor so as not to disturb those still waiting.
While the administrative building shouted misguided promises of future grandeur the temple just sat there. A discreet, almost nondescript building in red brick with wide double doors as the only proof of it being important in any way. It looked kind of lonely. There were no priests, or whatever the clergy was called in this world, and instead a few of the more magic oriented teachers helped students enter and do whatever preparations were proper for the occasion – Ioha was certain to find out exactly what for himself later.
For once he got lucky and the sun still climbed the sky between shards of clouds floating past when he put his feet on the stairs. A middle aged man smiled and led him inside. There Ioha realised that the preparations were reduced to being showed to an open door. A little confused he passed it and heard it close behind him.
The room was small and empty but for a white altar in the centre. As for what he was supposed to do Ioha couldn't even begin to guess. He spent a few minutes where he walked aimlessly and stared at white washed walls, white altar and equally exciting white stone floor. The entire ceiling above shone a mild light upon him, and Ioha realised he experienced practical magic that he recognised as such for the first time since arriving at the academy. No lamps, just magic. A bit confounded he swept the altar with his hand, but if he had expected something to happen he was soon disenchanted. Nothing, not even dust.
Now what?
He sat down on the floor with the altar as backrest. As far as he knew there was nothing disrespectful he could do, not even if he tried to smash the altar. He would be evaluated one way or another depending on what he did, and from what he had been told there was no right or wrong way to meet his god.
Contemplating life, universe and everything? Find the question for 42? He sighed. I have absolutely no clue what I'm supposed to do. Cold floor slid beneath him as he shuffled to find a more comfortable position. When he found it he leaned his head against the altar. He could just as well catch up on some sleep until anything strange happened. The air was warmer inside and he almost dozed off when his status display suddenly popped open and flared up like a Christmas tree. What the hell?
"You're a bold one, or are you a bored one?" A mild voice spoke inside his head. "Waiting for something to happen are you?" Male or female, Ioha couldn't tell.
Aren't gods supposed to be booming? "Who are you?" Ioha looked around, but as expected there was nothing to see. Whatever this meeting meant it clearly only included an audible voice inside his head.
"I am who I need to be. There are many me."
Ioha shook his head. He had an inkling what it meant. "Each a recognisable representation of god?"
"A smart one. I like that. I'll be your patron god."
That's all? "Who are you?" Ioha persisted.
"For you I'm Heimdall."
Heimdall? We'll he was Swedish, why not a Norse god? "And now?"
"I accept you as my follower if you accept me as your patron."
The divine ritual had quickly degenerated into something rather mercantile. "I guess we have a deal then," Ioha said unsure about the entire situation.
"Let's call it a deal," Heimdall said, and Ioha could hear how the god grinned.
Ioha's status display lit up like an exceptionally vulgar American Christmas tree.
He fell asleep.
***
Two dozen students slept on stretchers.
"Where?"
"You sure were heavy."
Ioha blinked away sleepiness and sat straight up. "Weren't we supposed to leave through the back door?"
Someone cleared her throat. "You all did." It was one of the teachers who had helped the students queuing.
"I fell asleep."
"You all did."
"I must have been carried out."
"You all…"
"OK I get it!" He glared at his fellow students. "Why the deception?"
"Are you stupid or just a moron?" That was not how a teacher usually addressed a student. "In what way did you believe large numbers of unconscious students on display would help those waiting prepare better?"
Ioha settled for moron. He rose from his stretcher and turned to face the woman who had spoken to him. "I can leave. I mean since I'm awake?"
She shrugged. "Leave or take a nap. Up to you. Your very own gods day and all that."
What's with the teachers here? "I'll just round the building and scare the crap out of the queueing ones."
"Feel free. I'll just rip your legs off if you do."
That stopped him in his tracks. "You wouldn't."
"I'm the strongest combat healer this continent has seen the last twenty years. Want to make a bet?"
Ioha stared at her. A plump unassuming middle aged lady she didn't look like anyone dangerous, but in her eyes different colours swirled around like in the descriptions of legendary arch-mage class spellcasters. She might actually… "I'll take the long route so no one sees me."
"Wise choice."
If she was what her eyes suggested then she had maybe a dozen peers on the entire continent. Why would she stay here rather…
"Outworlders make for great research," she said as if she had read his mind. "I prefer them in bulk."
"If you want them in bulk then…"
"I do the research. I'm not part of the exhibition."
Ioha stared at her, but a smile spread on his lips. Isekai, yes she would be part of the exhibition there. Think I'll like it here. Teachers are insane, but damn they're fun! He touched his forehead in a mock salute. "I understand, ma'am," he finished and took a step backward. The long way around wasn't very long at all, but he made certain he wasn't seen by anyone waiting by the temple.
Back at the academy he quickly fetched his satchel from the temporary dorm. The parrying sword could wait. He had no use for it until his sabre arrived anyway. With all his earthly, or rather otherworldly, belongings over his shoulder he climbed the stairs to building one and walked to where the table from two days earlier had been replaced by a large broadside hung of the wall. It told him both that this world had the technology and economy to handle small print runs as well as his room number. Third floor, the least desirable one. That student council secretary might have had a word in his room assignment, but he didn't really care. Ioha was a sound sleeper, had always been for as long as he could remember.
For a brief moment he thought of looking at the second floor, but he'd have his fill of lecture halls soon enough and he climbed another set of stairs and searched for his room. It turned out being the closest to the stairs, so one of the four least desirable rooms on the least desirable floor. Yes, the rude student council member had definitely interfered.
Ioha opened the door. There was no keyhole and he had no keys. The handle had been attuned to his personal aura the day before. That was the reason they all had to wait a day extra before moving in. Inside he found two beds rather than a bunk bed, which made him happy. It was far too small to allow for even the illusion of privacy, which made him less happy. He hadn't expected a suite, but a box-room fell fall short of the acceptable. Not that he could complain. He simply didn't have neither the connections nor the monetary means for that. Too close to a pauper in this world he'd simply have to make do with whatever he received.
Should be a room-mate as well. Well, he probably lay sleeping behind the temple. First one gets to pick, Ioha thought and dropped his satchel on one out of two identical beds. He opened it and moved his clothes inside something that desperately tried to be a wardrobe. At the foot end of his bed a raised surface pretended to be a desk for studying, but on the short stretch of wall left before the door a full size weapons rack occupied the space where he normally would have preferred a bookcase. Great thinking. Make sure to get your priorities straight. No books, but he had space dedicated to several weapons, a full set of armour and one full sized shield. In this world of eighteenth century technology and nineteenth century architecture he'd seen armour of sorts but no real shields. That the academy was designed by outworlder birdbrains longing for medieval magical adventures stood painfully clear. Home sweet home.
Lying on his bed Ioha finally opened his status display. He was curious about what all the fireworks had been about. Rows upon rows with new abilities followed by pathetic numbers met his eyes. He didn't understand a single one of them and trying strange things out in a small room probably wasn't a good idea. He was still tired. Experimenting had to wait until later.