So, Beast wasn’t lying about the drowning somehow being worse than the hanging. Maybe it was the attitude Det went in with that was the problem. Hey, he’d spent all morning choking and not being able to breathe, how could it really be different?

  He’d been wrong. So, so wrong. Having his lungs full of something that really wasn’t meant to be there was entirely different than having them struggling and gasping to be filled. It hurt. A lot. Worse, the water seemed to hold him down while it flowed up his nose and down his throat. More of the headmaster’s magic, no doubt.

  After hours of it happening—and after Det was able to more logically look at the process—it was kind of fascinating to see how his body was reacting. Contrary to how he believed drowning to work, it wasn’t like his airway was an open freeway for water to speed down the whole time. After some water made its way into his lungs, the airway would close itself off.

  That didn’t help him breathe or lessen the pain of the liquid in his lungs. It also took him longer to pass out than getting hanged did. Because the blood to his brain wasn’t getting cut off? Probably.

  Also, holding his breath from the beginning very much didn’t work. The headmaster was apparently capable of forcing the water into his mouth and nose, no matter how hard Det tried to prevent that. By the end of the day, though, Det held out for more than the requisite twenty minutes—of his lungs burning and spasming—to pass the necessary threshold. And, really, even the pain wasn’t that bad by the end of it.

  His body had adapted and improved under the torture, leaving him standing with water dripping off his skin, and his uniform in hand while the headmaster hovered above the collected group. Of the hundred-and-ninety-nine who had stayed after the headmaster’s morning display, they all remained.

  In varying stages of trauma and PTSD.

  Some lay on their backs, still savoring the freedom of being able to breath, while others sat and stared at nothing. They had all passed the twenty-minute mark in both tests, by this point, but some were just handling it better than others.

  Det had managed to compartmentalize the suffering because he knew it would get him one step closer to his goal. Just another necessary step. Now, it was behind him, and he was stronger for it.

  “Not exactly how I expected my first day of wizard school to go,” Calisco said from nearby. The six roommates had found their way closer to one another as they’d emerged from the water tanks.

  “Technically, our second day,” Weiss said, hand running back along his head to pull water out of his hair.

  “Magic fights, I figured those would happen,” Calisco countered. “What’s the point of being an awesome magic-girl with exploding magic if I can’t fight people? Drowning, though? Repeatedly? That wasn’t on my bingo card.”

  “Cadets,” Myrddin said, drawing the attention of everybody on the arena floor to the man still floating on the same disc he’d been on all day. “You have successfully passed your first class.”

  If the headmaster anticipated cheers at the accomplishment, he’d be disappointed. One quiet and flat “yay” was all he got.

  Myrddin chuckled. “Today was exhausting and difficult. I’m sure most of you had prepared yourself to be in a lecture theatre for an orientation today. Perhaps learn some of the fascinating history of the Mistguard.

  “You will do some of that over the coming weeks, but it is not what Mistguard do,” Myrddin said. “We were brought to this world to fight. That is what we will prepare you for first, because emergencies wait for no man or woman. At any time, on any day, we could be called. This first week of training is essential to preparing your bodies for that.”

  “How is this helping us?” a cadet called over from a dozen feet away from Det. The man was still lying on his back looking up at the headmaster, and from the way he was holding his throat—and wearing most of his uniform—he’d spent the afternoon getting hanged. “When are we going to be drowning in a fight?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Myrddin said. “When you get a chance, ask Captain Simmons about his first deployment out of the academy. That specific example aside, this wasn’t just about not being able to breathe. While it’s an important lesson for your body, who here paid attention to the other parts of their bodies? Your heart, your brain, your hands and feet?”

  As the headmaster’s question descended, Det nodded along. It was true, the first time Det got hanged, it felt like his heart was going to bust right out of his chest like one those monster movies, then go find a vent to hide in. His thoughts had gone sideways and slowed down almost immediately, and his fingers felt about as useful as cooked sausages held in an oven mitt.

  By the time he’d reached the twenty-minute mark, it wasn’t like his body was completely normal, but it was sure a lot closer. It also took significantly longer to deteriorate. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve peeled the rope off his neck—assuming the headmaster didn’t directly stop him—but he’d kept his hands calmly in front of himself. His brain hadn’t slowed from lack of blood, either.

  Maybe most importantly, he hadn’t panicked. Something that had carried through to the water tank. Physically, it sucked just as much as the first hanging. Mentally, Det had been surprisingly calm. Thinking about it that way, his heart didn’t pound nearly as hard either.

  Overall, he’d had much better control of his body.

  “I can see it in some of your eyes,” Myrddin said. “Your bodies will be trained in several ways over this week, and we’ve found this to be the best way to start that conditioning. For new ReSouled, there is nothing like not being able to breathe to cause a panic. No matter how tough you are—or think you are—from your past life, something as simple as struggling for air makes us feel as weak as babies. Overcoming that will take you further than you can believe.”

  Det watched more cadets nodding at the lesson, though there were still a few doubters by the expressions on their faces.

  “That’s enough of my rambling,” Myrddin said. “Be back here tomorrow morning at the same time for your next set of lessons. Until then, speak with your friends and fellow ReSouled. While you may not need it, they might. I shall see you all in the morning.”

  With the dismissal, Myrddin flew down to where the other instructors stood, but Det didn’t bother paying any more attention after that.

  “Shawarmas?” Calisco said.

  “Like in the movie,” Eriba said quietly, her eyes alight with excitement despite the wet hair matted to her head.

  “Do they even have shawarmas here?” Weiss said.

  “I saw a place,” Tena said. “A little off the beaten path back to the dorm. I don’t know how many people know about it yet.”

  “How did you find it?” Sage asked, some of the natural color returned to his skin after the events of the day.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “I…” Tena started, looked at Det, then lowered her face and blushed a little. “I needed some time to cool off after the duel yesterday, before I went back to the suite. Found it while I was exploring.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Calisco said. “I’m hungry.”

  “You know what?” Sage said. “So am I. Really hungry.”

  With the decision being unanimously made, the group quickly dressed—regardless of whether or not they were still wet—and started in the direction of the exit.

  “Does… anybody know how we pay for things?” Weiss said after the whole group had taken two steps.

  Det turned back to glare in the instructors’ direction. An orientation actually would’ve been pretty handy.

  “Our ID tags,” Eriba said.

  “Our what now?” Tena said.

  Under the sudden attention and stares of the other five around her, Eriba shrunk. Peeking out from behind her still-wet bangs, she held up her left hand. With her right, she pointed at her wrist. No, that wasn’t it. She was pointing at what looked like a small, metal plaque on her sleeve.

  Looking down at his own cuff, Det found he had one too.

  D-17185

  “We each have an ID number,” Eriba said in her whispery voice. “And a credit account connected to it for spending the allowance we get.”

  “We get an allowance?!” Calisco said.

  “Didn’t you read the brochure in the suite?” Eriba said, head tilting to the side in question.

  “There was a brochure?”

  “We,” Det started. “Are clearly going to need to start from the beginning. After we order dinner.”

  A round of agreement met the statement, and with Tena in the lead, the group departed the arena of fun and torture—mainly torture—alongside the other cadets. As they moved, Det spotted Granite, along with that other unnamed cadet he’d seen before, standing with a group of four other cadets and watching Det leave.

  The part of Det that wanted to antagonize the man for trying to bully him really wanted to put a hand up to wave. The other part of him, the one that had listened to what Beast had to say about how he could’ve handled the situation better, knew the gesture would just piss the other man off. It was really a pity that second part of Det was significantly slower than his antagonistic side, and his hand waggled back and forth in a gesture that made the big Bulwark scowl.

  Damnit, Det. Where did your self-control go?

  “Friend of yours?” Calisco said, leaning back as she walked out of the arena to get one last look through the door at who Det had waved at. “Hate to break it to you, they don’t look like they want to be buddies. Do we have to have the ‘no means no’ discussion?”

  “That’s the cadet who threw Det at lunch,” Weiss said.

  “What’s that?” Tena said. “Did something happen? And, don’t you mean he threw his lunch at Det?”

  “You didn’t hear?” Calisco said at the same time Weiss did more to answer the questions.

  “No,” the healer said. “He picked up Det—by the front of his uniform—and tossed him at the lunch table. Ruined most of the sandwiches.”

  “Oooooh,” Tena said. “I did hear about something like that happening. That was you?” Her question was aimed at Det as they exited the outside of the arena and walked into edge of town nearby.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Det said, while he took in the sight of the almost medieval looking town that gently climbed the hill toward the dorm and the mistship docks to the right. A split in the road ahead also led down into a more bustling community section, complete with that looked like a thriving open-air market.

  What really set it all apart were the floating windows of light—being used as signs on some of the shops—to highlight what was sold inside. Almost like televisions or computer screens, these floating windows, which weren’t even touching the building, but instead just floating above the door, alternated what they displayed. Sometimes it was a list of items, other times details of an ongoing sale, or even realistic pictures of the goods.

  It was kind of like a super futuristic, sci-fi cyberpunk hologram kind of thing, except it was always screens, and they were always on buildings that looked they were meant to be in a village from the dark ages. An affluent one that wasn’t in the middle of a plague or anything.

  Why hadn’t he noticed that before?

  Ah, because I was unconscious last time I left the arena, and the shops weren’t open when we came here either morning.

  While he’d gawked, Weiss had continued to tell the story of Det’s lunchtime escapades.

  “That’s going to be trouble,” Sage said, finally starting to sound more like himself after the events of the day. “We should’ve seen it coming.”

  “Got any ideas?” Det said.

  “Why do we need ideas?” Calisco said, and Tena nodded beside her.

  “I agree with Cali,” Tena said. “We just tell them the truth. We’re in an accelerated class because we’re better than they are.”

  “Exactly,” Calisco—Cali, now, apparently—said. “Though I would’ve said we’re awesomer than they are.”

  “That’s not a word,” Det pointed out.

  “Is now,” Calisco countered.

  “They might be on to something,” Sage said.

  “You want us to tell people we’re awesomer than they are?” Weiss deadpanned.

  “Not… exactly,” Sage said with a furtive glance in Calisco and Tena’s direction. “We can’t change or hide we’re going to be in some different classes than the others. So, lean on the fact we’re an in accelerated class, and leave it at that.”

  “People will ask why,” Weiss said.

  “Let them,” Sage said. “We don’t have to answer. If they want to know, they should talk to the headmaster. We could even tell them we don’t know, we were just told that when we arrived.”

  “Everybody will assume it’s nepotism or favoritism,” Weiss said. “Not sure I like that.”

  “Headmaster already said Avalon isn’t fair,” Calisco said. “Who cares what people assume? If our group is going to get an advantage, let’s use it.”

  “She has a point,” Sage said. “We may have a chance to get ahead of our classmates, and I for one plan to focus on that over the worrying about what they think because of something we can’t control.”

  “Practical,” Det said. “Probably means I’m going to get thrown into another lunch table or two, though.”

  “Only until you’re strong enough nobody dares throw you,” Calisco said. “Get like the headmaster or Gen-gen, and you’re going to have people throwing themselves onto the tables just to make you happy.”

  “She’s right,” Tena said. “I plan to be the next S-Rank Mistguard, and Captain Simmons seems to think you all can keep up with me. If we all push through the Ranks together, people will be too busy trying to catch up to us to talk shit about us.”

  “You really don’t know how people work, do you?” Det said, and Weiss nodded beside him.

  Sage laughed. “Right or wrong, with enough strength in the Mistguard, it doesn’t matter. We just need to be ahead of the others by the end of our first year, by a noticeable amount. If we do that, we’ll have proven why we were in the accelerated group. They won’t have anything to talk about.

  “If they want to try to throw Det at more tables, we’ll just take advantage of those tournaments the headmaster talked about to put people in their place. Any of us, looking out for each other, assuming we’ve got one another’s backs?” His last question came with a pointed look at each of the other five roommates.

  They’d only met each other within the last few days, hardly gotten to know each other over the course of watching a trilogy of movies together, and now Sage was basically asking them to make an oath to look out for one other. Most surprisingly, they seemed to be considering it.

  “Det’s from Radiant, so other people bullying him is just like them trying to bully me,” Calisco said. “Same applies to the rest of you, since you’re in my group. Big-sister Cali has got your back.” The small woman even thumped her chest to prove her point.

  “Allowing any of you to be picked on would make me look weak,” Tena said. “In a tournament or outside one, I won’t stand for it.”

  “It was my idea,” Sage said. “So, you know I’m in. That’s half of us.”

  “My healing magic will never make me much of a fighter…” Weiss started.

  “Unless you use it the wrong way,” Calisco said.

  “How would I…?” Weiss started, then trailed off like something he’d never even considered occurred to him. Something that scared him a little, though he schooled his face quickly enough. A nervous chuckle, and he shook his head. “Maybe I’ll just stick to the healing part. That’s what I’m good at. I’ll make sure you stay in top shape, so I’m in. I’ve got your backs.”

  “Me too,” Eriba said quietly, hands clasped in front of her, face red in a blush, and her shoulders rocking alternately front to back. “I’ll protect you.”

  “Just leaves you Det,” Sage said.

  “Getting stronger is the whole reason I’m here,” Det said. “If watching out for you guys helps me do that, I’m all for it. Even Calisco.”

  “Big-sister Calisco,” the woman corrected.

  “Whatever,” Det said with a roll of his eyes he couldn’t stop. “Do we need to do a group hug now or something? Or, can we just get to that shawarma place? I’m starving.”

  “Why not both?” Sage said, stepping forward, arms wide like he was ready for all of them. Eriba even took a step in his direction before everybody else turned to follow Tena.

  “It’s this way,” the lead woman said mercilessly, leaving Sage standing in the middle of the road with his arms open.

  Beside him, Eriba, blushing even more fiercely than before, squeaked, then ran after the others.

  “You’ll be back for hugs later!” Sage called after them. “Mark my words. You’ll be back!” Then he was really getting left behind, and he jogged after the group when Det waved for him to hurry up.