Luckborn

2-6: Sponsorship



Otter leaned over the bubbling flask. The fumes tickled his nos, and he had to pause momentarily to keep a sneeze at bay. He adjusted the flame slightly, trying to keep the mixture just shy of boiling, the violet liquid beginning to swirl as powdered salamander fang dissolved into it.

"Steady," came Milo's voice from the other side of the workbench, without looking up from his notes. "One more degree and it'll turn into a mild hallucinogen."

"That wouldn't be the worst thing right now," Otter muttered.

Milo raised an eyebrow. "We'd both fail the assignment, and you'd start seeing spiders with monocles. Again."

"Fair," Otter conceded.

After gaining his Luckborn Class, he had carefully considered how to spend the 4 skill points he'd received. He'd put one of them in Alchemy bringing it up to Level 2 and one in Observation which bumped that to Apprentice Tier Level 5. He still hadn't decided where to put the other points yet. Maybe he should dump them all into Alchemy. It was certainly a useful skill. Without access to spells, it could give him an edge as long as he prepared correctly. He decided to go ahead and allocate one more point to Alchemy right now. Three skill points should be enough to ensure he passed the final exam.

As soon as he tapped his wrisplay screen, he realized Milo was right. The flame was still too high, and he only had seconds before ruining the potion. He turned the flame down more and allowed the bubbling to settle.

Milo raised an eyebrow. "You're getting better at noticing the details."

"Isn't that kind of the point of all this?"

Milo shrugged.

Just then, the door to the lab opened and a small paper bird fluttered in, dancing its way to Professor Salien who perched on a stool at the front of the room supervising her students. She plucked the paper construct out of the air, unfolded it, and read its message. "Young Masters Bennett and Fenwick," she announced. "Your presence is requested at the Hall of Assignments."

Otter and Milo looked at each other, then at their unfinished potions on the table.

"Yes, yes. Your progress has been noted. We will handle clean-up. Run along."

Without further comment or complaint, Otter and Milo stuffed their notes into satchels and hurried out of the lab.

They jogged down the path leading away from Pratchett Hall, the mid-spring warmth drawing a hint of sweat between their shoulder blades.

"Any idea what this is about?" Milo asked, cinching his satchel tighter.

Otter shrugged. "I bet it has to do with that guild recruiter."

Milo groaned.

***

When they reached the Hall of Assignments, its arched stone doorway loomed ahead like a judgment rendered in architecture. A brass sign above it bore the inscription: In Service, We Learn.

They hurried inside, scanning for any sign of where they should go. The main hall was enormous, serving as the primary records room for current and past students. There were large desks, behind which sat scribes who constantly scratched quill to parchment.

Otter made a beeline for one for one of the desks, but veered away when he caught sight of a small group of students standing not far away.

Erin stood with arms crossed and eyebrows raised in curiosity. Sage lingered near her, posture sharp and suspicious. Jasper leaned against a pillar, chewing a stalk of something as if this were routine.

As Otter approached, Erin said, "About time. We were told to wait for you two before they would see us."

"Who's they?" asked Otter.

Erin shrugged. "Dunno. Come on. They scribe told us where to go." She immediately set off across the grand chamber toward a section Otter had never visited. Opposite the entrance to the Overseers wing, an archway led into a corridor with five doors spaced every fifteen meters apart. Erin led them to the second door and knocked. It swung open, and she stepped inside. Otter and the others followed close behind.

The room inside was modest but formal: wood-paneled walls, narrow windows with slitted light, and a large oval table positioned in the center. Stacked folders, scroll tubes, and a small pot of steaming tea dotted its surface in careful arrangement. Behind the table stood the guild recruiter Otter had met earlier and who had brushed him off so casually. Now, however, he eyed Otter with keen interest.

Beside him, wearing his charcoal gray suit, stood Overseer Blackwood. He gave them a short nod as they entered. "Thank you for coming on short notice. Make yourselves comfortable, please."

Hesitantly, the students all took a seat, though no one reached for the teapot.

Blackwood turned slightly, gesturing toward the recruiter. "This is Derren Vol, a liaison from the Aurelia Adventurer's Guild. He's here at my request, following my formal sponsorship of your team."

There was a beat of silence.

"You sponsored us?" Otter asked.

Blackwood nodded once. "Of course. Given your performance during the Simulation and other field activities, and upon reviewing your files, it seemed more than warranted. Five students, acting autonomously, with minimal oversight, succeeded in a high-stress extraction involving a real Kaosborn threat. I deemed your response exceptional—and repeatable."

Derren Vol stepped forward then, flipping open a small folio. "And that's why I'm here. Based on Overseer Blackwood's recommendation, the guild is extending you an invitation to be Tier I auxiliaries—support-track. Not full guild membership, but an officially sponsored auxiliary unit for the summer term."

Jasper leaned forward. "Wait—support like paperwork? Or support like we still get to carry swords?"

"Both," Vol said, deadpan. "You'll be assigned scouting tasks and courier routes. Green and yellow zone only."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Sounds like errands," Jasper muttered.

"Sounds like experience," countered Milo.

Jasper fell quiet at that. Otter understood why. System advancement was all about Experience. After the Simulation fiasco, they had all received enough experience to hit level 2. Except Otter. But it seemed the System had awarded that retroactively once he unlocked his Class. Now, they were all halfway to level 3, which is where they were supposed to be by winter break of their second year, not this soon. If they could gain enough experience to reach the next level before their second year at the Academy, life would likely be a lot easier.

Vol shifted. "Listen, while your assignments will be as low-risk as they come, there's always a risk with adventuring. And with how things have been lately, there are certainly no guarantees things won't get dicey. But that's the nature of the job." He tapped the side of his portfolio. "It's also why you'll get paid—5 silver per job. You're unlikely to find any loot on these types of assignments, but you'd get a share of anything you find."

Otter raised his hand. "What about the rest of our team?"

"What do you mean?"

"We have two other friends that we consider part of our team: Liora Valen and Levi Rosner."

Vol glanced at Blackwood, who nodded. "I'm sorry, Otter. I know they are part of your inner circle. Unfortunately, both of them have yet to reach second level. I cannot, in good conscience, sponsor them for this."

Vol nodded his agreement. "Even if he did, we would never extend an invitation to 1st-level adventurers. It's simply too dangerous."

This news disappointed Otter, but he understood their concern. He looked down at the edge of the table, thinking it through. Accepting the offer would keep him away from home for the summer. No swimming in the canals. No soft, slow mornings. No awkward, half-hearted conversations with his mother where neither of them could bring themselves to say anything real. She would worry about him. And he'd been gone so long already, she had to be lonely without him.

But accepting also meant money. Real money. Five Silver Alms was nothing to sniff at. He wasn't sure how long a job would take, but even if they did one a week, he could earn several Summas over the course of the summer. And that could make his mother very comfortable.

Of course, they wouldn't just be getting paid. They'd be gaining XP. And that was worth just as much, if not more.

But he kept getting hung up on not seeing his Ma for another three whole months. Maybe there was a solution. "When would we start?"

"One week after the end of the semester," replied Voss. "We realize you will need time to make arrangements with your families. Those of you who live close should have plenty of time. Farther away, well, that should leave time for some correspondence, at least."

One week. That wasn't much time at all. Two days of travel to Brighthaven and two days back. That left him three days at home. That should be enough. He hoped.

Vol broke the silence. "You don't have to answer now."

Five heads turned toward him again.

"But I'll need your decision by the end of the week," he continued. "You'll inform Overseer Blackwood, and he'll relay it. But there's one condition." His eyes swept across the group. "It must be unanimous. If one of you says no, the offer is void."

Otter blinked. "Wait—why?"

Vol's tone was matter-of-fact. "Because we're not building a random unit. We're building on your existing cohesion. Overseer Blackwood sponsored you as a team. So we take the entire team or none of it."

That made sense. But it put a lot of pressure on them individually. But that was part of being a team, he supposed.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," said Vol, "I have other students to meet with." He gathered his folio, nodded to Blackwood, and left the room.

Sage let out a deep sigh and glanced at each of them. "I need time to pray about this. I hope you understand this is not a decision I can make lightly."

Otter made eye contact. "I don't think this is a decision any of us should make lightly. Nor is it one we should discuss now. Let's meet tomorrow to talk about it. That will give each of us some time to process."

There were nods all around and a few mutters of agreement. Sage left first, the Jasper. Milo screwed up his face to say something, but then decided against it.

Erin and Otter turned to leave together, but Blackwood stopped them. "A moment, Mr. Bennett. We have something else to discuss."

Erin looked at Otter and raised an eyebrow, but he just shrugged. "I'll catch up."

"Close the door, please," Blackwood said when Erin was gone.

Otter did, then took a seat at the table.

Blackwood picked up the pot of tea and poured himself a cup. Steam curled toward the ceiling. "Would you like some? It's quite delicious."

Otter shook his head.

"Very well." Blackwood blew carefully across the surface, then took a sip and smacked his lips together. "Ah, lovely."

Otter was getting fidgety. It was the first time he'd been alone with the Overseer since their expedition into the ruins beneath Ironside. There were a dozen things he wanted to talk about, important things, and the Overseer's languid demeanor was setting him on edge.

Finally, Blackwood reached down beside his chair and pulled a sheaf of papers out of a satchel. He placed them on the table, licked a finger, and leafed through the first few. "Ah, here we are." He pulled out a sheet of paper and slid it across to Otter. "This is what I'd like to talk to you about."

Otter looked at the paper. At the top, in narrow black script, it read:

Provisional Course Integration – Unaligned Classes

Below that, blank space.

"I don't get it," said Otter.

"Since your foray into the ruins, we've received notification of six new potential students with previously unknown Classes."

Otter swallowed.

"While it is not important for you to know all the details of how the Academy recruits new students each year, you should have some background information. Suffice it to say that the System notifies us every time someone gains an adventuring class within our borders. We then review that candidate's records to determine if they would be a good fit at the Academy. Over the centuries of our existence, we have developed a quality curriculum designed for each adventuring class to prepare them for a life of adventuring, while also leveling them to a point we believe they have a strong chance of survival." Blackwood took another sip of tea and looked at Otter over the top of his spectacles. "That has changed."

"While the reason for that change is still unknown," he cleared his throat, "to Academy administration and the Council of Overseers, we cannot ignore its ramifications."

Otter held his breath. Was he in trouble?

"The Academy is not prepared for an influx of students with unorthodox Classes. Some of my colleagues say we should continue as we always have, only inviting those with core adventuring Classes. But the Headmaster disagrees. He thinks this is an opportunity, but also a responsibility. He fears what may happen to those who choose a different path than what the world is used to."

"Okay," Otter said slowly, his apprehension giving way to confusion.

"I agree with the Headmaster. The problem is, we don't know where to start. But you might have a better understanding of what these students will be facing. Which is why I want your help."

"Help with what?"

"In designing a first-year curriculum for these new students."

Otter stared at Blackwood blankly. "Um…I'm not a professor."

"Precisely. You are a student. One who now has a rather unorthodox Class, if I'm not mistaken." There was a twinkle in the older man's eye as he spoke. "I want you to imagine what you wish had been available to you. If someone had understood what you were becoming. If someone had tried to teach you without trying to tame you."

Otter looked down at the empty sheet again. "I don't even know where I'd start."

"We'll start with some journaling. First, I want you to write about every time you felt lost this year."

"Now?"

"No, no. Finals are almost upon you. You need to study. This will be in addition to your duties with the Adventurer's Guild this summer, should that be the path you choose. If you are amenable to assisting me with this, I would be eternally grateful, and we could conduct most of our work through written correspondence. How does that sound?"

Otter thought about how lost he'd felt when he came to the Academy. While he no longer felt ashamed by that, he could easily empathize with someone else in a similar position. If there was anything he could do to help them, he would.

"I think that sounds great."

Blackwood beamed at him. "Wonderful!" He gathered up his stack of papers and stowed them back in the satchel. "Now, I need to let you get back to your studies, and I have other meetings to attend." He stood and hustled toward the door. All the lazy air about him from earlier was gone.

Within seconds, the Overseer had disappeared down the corridor, leaving Otter alone with nothing but a cooling pot of tea and a hundred unanswered questions.


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