8 Tower of Tomfoolery, Part 1

A question popped into my brain that I just had to ask my guide about. "Ms. Lockwood—"

"People I don't hate can call me Liara," she cut in.

So, she didn't hate me after all. It didn't mean we were friends now but it was certainly an improvement from our first meeting, and I guessed it meant I'd raised my affinity with her, however slightly, which was a comforting thought. "Okay… Um, Liara"—I wasn't sure why, but it was thrilling to say her name out loud—"how do I join the rankings exactly?"

"I wondered when you would ask." It almost seemed to me like Liara was trying not to smile. "There's a proving exam at the start of each month where the twenty lowest-ranked novices are challenged by the up-and-comers."

"Up and comers," I repeated. "So, not just anyone can join this test?"

"Only non-rankers who've shown improvement over the past month are allowed to sign up for it." I caught Liara briefly glancing my way. As if she were assessing my worth with her gaze. "Surviving the Crucible isn't enough. You'll need to rack up some achievements over the next two weeks if you want to be considered for next month's exam."

"What sort of achievements?"

"You need to figure that one out on your own because it's different for everyone."

"Speaking of the Crucible... I'm assuming you made Doomsday bleed too?"

"Why do you think that?"

"Because you seem strong..." I grinned. "Strong enough for those three warriors to be wary of you."

This time Liara did smile. Although that admittedly beautiful smile I just glimpsed went away as quickly as it came.

"My Crucible was a dökkálfar named Mistress Lorelai," Liara revealed, and before I could ask, the she-elf added, "She's at least twice as strong as Master Doomsday."

I found it hard to imagine any dark elf who could best the half-giant in a fight because Doomsday was just that intimidating. However, this Academy was a crazy place that killed off prospective novices during its entrance exam so I assumed anything was possible within its campus walls.

"So, you beat a master stronger than Doomsday is what you're saying?" I prompted.

Liara shook her head.

"I didn't beat Mistress Lorelai. I survived her." Liara raised five fingers to my eye level. "My Crucible wasn't to make the dökkálfar bleed, but to fight her for five minutes without once giving up no matter what she did to me."

"No matter what she did to you," I repeated, my brow furrowing slightly. "You mean she would have killed you too?"

"Experiencing a temporary death is how the Academy keeps unworthy challengers from pursuing the career of an adventurer and experiencing a tragic end much later on," Liara revealed.

"Excuse me?" I raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that the people who died—"

"Anyone who failed a Crucible would have been revived by the Academy's clerics or given a Potion of Revivify afterward," Liara answered in a nonchalant tone. "Our masters aren't monsters. Well, most of them aren't…"

Sonofa… so the people who'd failed the Crucible were people who understood a fraction of what I went through regularly?

Another thought struck me. "So, these losers… do they ever try to take the Crucible again?"

The she-elf nodded. "I believe the record is nine retries."

"Baldr's balls," I whistled.

Huh, learning all of this was kind of cathartic for me as it was nice to know that there were other crazy bastards in the cosmos who didn't mind dying more than once to get what they wanted.

"So, what happened to that challenger who attempted it nine times?" I asked.

Liara's face darkened suddenly.

"You'll meet them eventually if you rise in the ranks," was all she would say.

So, this person who was slightly less crazy than me was a high-ranking novice of the Academy now. Well, with that kind of tenacity, I assumed they would become stronger. Stronger than people like Liara who survived their first round of the Crucible without having to undergo the painful experience of death's embrace.

"I can't wait for my first ranking match," I said excitedly.

As I followed Liara through an alleyway squished between several wooden buildings, I cast furtive glances at the novices we passed and noticed how the Academy had a more diverse population than I first realized. It wasn't just elves and half-orcs and dragonkin. There were a variety of dwarves too; the stout, broad-shouldered mountain dwarves, the taller-built hill dwarves, and even some of the dark-skinned cave dwarves that were known to hate the surface. These dwarven races who were usually rivals in their respective realms were working together smelting iron in stone furnaces or banging their hammers against anvils inside the smithy to our right.

Meanwhile, the tanning hall to our left was inhabited by novice leatherworkers and tailors whose beast-like faces ranged from common wolfish and cat-like appearances to the rarer owl and rabbit features of, "Wildlings."

"Is this your first time encountering a wildling?" Liara asked.

"Nope, but it's the first time I've seen so many of them in one place… and—"

"—not at war with each other?" she guessed knowingly. "Animosity between species isn't encouraged here. The rules compel people not to show off their bigotry in public. Privately though…"

Privately 'people couldn't help being racist' was what I figured she wanted to say but didn't. I agreed with her too. That feeling of superiority some species had—and yeah, I do mean ljósálfar—doesn't just go away because we're all forced into living together. I was even surprised that Einarr—Anal, lol—and Kaveera were so chummy with each other when most elven races reviled the orcs and their unfortunate halfbreed offspring. Particularly because most half-orcs had an orc father or mother who'd raped an elf or human to make babies.

The sound of people singing reached my ears. It was a melody of voices so heartwarming that the bile that seeped into my chest at the thought of orc atrocities and closeted bigotry was quickly replaced by happy thoughts; enchanted weapons and armor, Realmsflix shows, skyships, and giant robots—the stuff that warms a real man's heart.

"Where's that coming from…?"

My gaze drifted to the dance studio we just passed by. Through its window, I glimpsed a group of five pretty girls—all of them in a variety of skin tones ranging from a clear, watery substance to flesh that was as craggy as a molten rock—practicing a choreographed dance set while singing a pop song that was on eternal repeat in my 'Spotifeels' playlist.

"By the All-father… it's the Elementals!" I gasped.

One of the biggest pop groups in the realmsverse—and my personal favorite—was actually associated with the Academy. Seriously?!

I stopped and stared—my foot tapping along to the beat of their song—when Liara suddenly grabbed my arm and dragged me away.

"I just saved your life," she insisted. "No one's allowed to watch those girls rehearse… their manager's a literal ogre when it comes to that rule since they get so little practice time between classes."

"Th-the Elementals are novices here?" I asked, surprise flitting across my face. I'd heard that they were youngish but I didn't know they were around my age.

"You'll probably meet some of them depending on the electives you choose," Liara stated.

"Electives…" I repeated. "Wait, we get to choose which classes to take?"

"Choosing your electives is how the Academy trains us to be aware of our personal growth and goals," Liara replied like the good guide she'd suddenly become. "But you also have to take the common courses just like everyone else at your skill level."

"And these common courses... are we talking Algebra and Chemistry or—"

"Swords and Sorcery, Realmsverse History, Beginner Alchemy, Professions, and P.E.," she enumerated.

That last one didn't seem to fit the others in its naming sense, but I knew how important physical education was to us adventurers-in-training. It might even be the most important subject of all.

"And these electives... I assume they're more specialized training courses?"

"Electives determine which job specializations you could be accepted into after you become a journeyman."

Liara spared an inquisitive glance my way. I could almost swear that a smidge of respect was showing on her face, and I didn't mind that she looked at me this way.

"You showed off some high magical talent against Doomsday so you'll want to choose electives that will help hone your magic."

"What sort of electives?"

"Courses on Evocation, Enchantment, Geomancy, Necromancy, maybe even Rune Theory… Anything geared toward enhancing your spellcraft, I imagine," she guessed. "We're here."

Before us was another bridge of thick gnarled roots whose entrance was flanked at either side by two large stone ravens that reached past two meters in height. These statues glared down at me as if warning me not to cause trouble where they could see.

"You people don't believe in hand railings, huh?" I asked wryly.

"True drengr aren't afraid of heights or falling into the chilly waters of the sea of destiny," Liara answered.

"The sea of destiny..." I repeated, my brow furrowing. I'd never heard that term before. "What are you—"

As I stepped onto the bridge, I couldn't help glancing down and seeing this sea for myself.

Our bridge was located by the western edge of the Academy. And, as its campus was on one of Yggdrasil's lowest hanging branches, I got a good view of what was down below us. The roots of the world tree were farther apart than I first glimpsed back when I'd met Doomsday on Root Seven. There was just enough of a gap between them that I could see a tranquil body of water at its bottommost depth right where the oldest roots of Yggdrasil would be.

"It's the Lake of the Norns..." I breathed.

I'd never been there myself, but I knew from my lessons with Divah that the very bottom of Yggdrasil was home to both the Well of Mimir and the Norn Keep, these ancient places that contained the accumulated wisdom and knowledge of the cosmos that the All-Father had once sacrificed his eye to attain.

Once again, the simple truth was drilled into my brain. It was the fact that I was now in a place of unimaginable wonder. One that would surely help me in achieving my goals. Assuming I survive the Academy experience, that is.