Sick. That was how Christie felt. And she wasn't talking about her physical well-being, which had already taken a toll, but her mental one. She saw and heard the laughs of her 'classmates' as she clutched the ground with her hands and traces of vomit covered her lips.

  Ah… she groaned both in her mind and audibly. First day of school… she let out a grim chuckle. I want to cry. Perhaps she was already doing so. It was hard to tell as her body felt numb.

  How has this happened? The girl wasn't wondering how she ended up collapsing and puking, that much was obvious, but rather how the claps she had just gotten barely an hour before had turned into such animalistic mockery. Have I misinterpreted everything? Have I not… done well?

  Christie had taken pride in the fact that she had managed to adapt to the academic environment and spoken to several people, yet it would seem that it was all a fluke, as all her efforts proved to be for naught during the first day of classes.

  She was tempted to sepulcher herself in her sea of stones.

  It was such a… comforting thought. Calm, inert, cold, and tough stone. There was nothing more she could ask for.

  A clap broke through the laughter.

  "Must I remind you all of the one thing I asked of you?" René Dago's voice cut through the training grounds, and any instance of foreign sound was cancelled by his own. "You are here to be soldiers. When you are deployed in the field and you are bleeding to death, every second is vital. Yet if you spend your time laughing at the expense of your comrades, do you know what will appear on their minds when they find you bleeding on the ground? It will not be an "I must save them", but instead a "They laughed at me during the academy". Now, they will not kill you or let you die, but that hesitation alone – brought by none other than yourselves – is what is going to decide your fate. A second is all it takes, and camaraderie is about gaining as many seconds as possible. Do not lose them. Class dismissed."

  Every single student heard those last two words, yet all remained petrified in their seats. Their faces weren't those of a kid who got scolded or slapped, but a person who got stabbed in the gut by someone they trusted most. There was a betrayal in their eyes, but not in the sense of rage, but of pleading as they asked themselves what they had done wrong to deserve this.

  Teacher Dago turned to face Christie and offered her a hand. She already felt way better before that hand had been extended to her.

  "He told me you would need help, but I honestly did not expect it would be this much." Both the soldier's eyes and lips smiled softly. All the previous smiles seemed fake against this genuineness and warmth.

  Christie accepted the hand sluggishly as she was still struggling for breath and her vision was a bit blurry, but a question echoed in her mind far more than any other. "He?"

  "Who other than your illustrious father?" The man pulled her upwards as if she weighed less than a feather.

  "My… illustrious father?" The girl said perplexedly.

  "Did he not tell you about me?" The previously vulpine and intimidating soldier now looked like a sad puppy with her eyes.

  "My dearest father mentioned an ally in the academy… but I fear he did not go into details."

  "Ah, yeah, that certainly sounds like him," René Dago clicked his tongue and snorted. "I would like to speak about it more with you, but I cannot be seen giving you preferential treatment, so let us speak about it more calmly once the first week of classes is over. For now," he turned his face to the grades which still held the petrified students, "Miss Malachite?" The grey-eyed soldier shouted.

  "Y-yes?" The blond and petite girl stood up with a hasty spring.

  "You are Miss Valasela's roommate, are you not?"

  "Y-yes!" Agatha responded with an impromptu military salute.

  "That salute is not up to code, but that is not the subject at hand right now," he sighed. "Help your roommate to the infirmary."

  "At once!" Christie's roommate almost made a salute again before confusedly stopping midway and instantly awkwardly waddling her way to her.

  "Have you not heard me, pebbles?" Teacher Dago suddenly shouted, his voice even louder than before. "The class is over!"

  The students quickly scattered like a flock of pigeons. Miss Diorite hated those a lot as they tended to tarnish the estate. And now Christie found herself hating them too, yet no less than herself and her frail body.

  "You okay?" Agatha asked informally.

  "Uhm… should I be polite about it?" Christie answered with a deep inhalation full of doubt.

  "I think it would be better if you were sincere."

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  "Right," the redhead chuckled degradingly. "No, I am not okay."

  "Let me help you then," her roommate grabbed her arm and placed it on top of her shoulders. "Are you comfortable?" Christie grunted affirmatively. "Nice, then let us get going to the infirmary."

  Even though her answer had been taciturn, the nouveau riche truly felt comfortable on the villager's shoulders. It wasn't just because she was helping her or because she hadn't laughed at her, but rather because of more tangible reasons. The petite girl was just the right height for Christie's arm to rest without being forced, and she was also warm. Everything else seemed secondary then. The comforts of the body beat those of the ailing mind.

  Instead of going to the locker room to change out of their soldier uniforms, Agatha led her directly into the academy. And Christie couldn't be helpful enough about it; she doubted she could have handled exchanging glasses with other classmates at the time being.

  Soon, though, her roommate expressed her doubts. "So, where is that infirmary?"

  "Right," Christie chuckled grimly. "I keep forgetting you did not get the pleasure of being acquainted with the academy. I will guide you…"

  As soon as the nouveau riche made a feint to leave her side, Agatha grabbed her arm and reinforced her grip on her. "You can guide me and support yourself on me at the same time."

  "I… guess I can," the redhead responded meekly and proceeded to guide her roommate through the corridors with concise directions.

  The infirmary was, thankfully, next to the training grounds. Christie guessed it made sense as that was the spot where more people were bound to need medical assistance. The academy did have a hospital – more of a military one than anything with the way it brought itself – though it was mostly reserved for the clerks and servants of the academy rather than the students and stationed soldiers.

  The blond girl opened the door to the infirmary and pushed it open as she carried Christie forward. She appreciated her help a lot, because whilst she could walk, her vision was too dizzy to walk straight. They waddled together inside the room as a unit, where they were met by a slightly balding man wearing a white piece of cloth somewhere between a coat and a tunic.

  "New faces on the first day?" The man said amicably. "Sit her down on the bed. I am going to get to you in a second." He told Agatha as he scribbled a handful of things in a diary.

  Her roommate did as commanded and carefully sat Christie on the bed. She instantly felt her dizziness partially fade away as she was able to take a relaxed inhalation with her back arched forward.

  "So," the male nurse said as he stood up from his seat, "what has happened?"

  "Nothing much, good sir," Christie responded.

  "Well, it would not be nothing if you are here," he added with a smile. "So let it out."

  "I am serious about the 'nothing much', it is just that… well, I have a frail constitution, and exercise demands a lot of my body. I simply collapsed after making ten rounds around the field."

  "Collapsing is not something that should happen in the first place," his smile slightly tarnished. "Can you tell what has happened?" He turned his head to face Agatha.

  "That is what has happened… ish," her roommate responded. "I would not call that a collapse, though. After doing the ten laps – which she needed far more time than the rest of the class – she fell on her knees, gasping for air, and then puked."

  "Yeah, I can tell that much," the nurse clicked his tongue and took out a handkerchief. "Clean yourself," he offered it to her.

  Christie accepted and – too exhausted to blush – she started cleaning her lips. Thankfully, nothing seemed to have splashed on her uniform.

  "You have cleared your stomach, have ragged breath, and look somewhat pale after a handful of laps…" The balding man sighed. "Let me be honest with you, girl, you are not built to be a soldier."

  "I do not care," Christie responded.

  "You should, I do not think you will be able to become one with your constitution."

  "You have misunderstood me," the redhead added calmly and slowly straightened her back. Eat the world, her dearest father's words echoed in her mind. "I am not here to be a soldier; I am here to be able to control my agates. Nothing more and nothing less."

  She and the nurse shared a look. The man slightly opened his eyes once he realized that Christie's boasted two colors in a unique shape, but he didn't break eye contact with her. There seemed to be an understanding. He comprehended that she wouldn't be made out of the academy even if she didn't manage to become a soldier. Nor did she care about it.

  "Is your weak physical constitution related to Agatecraft?" He asked a moment later.

  "Yes," she answered taciturnly.

  "I see," he scratched his nape. "In that case, this is definitely the best place to learn how to overcome your afflictions. But on the other hand, I cannot help you. Lithic afflictions are beyond me. Maybe… No, I do not think I can help you."

  "I was aware of that," Christie chuckled softly. "I have seen many physicians in my life, and none were able to help me."

  "That is because what you require is not a physician, but a… Hmm, talk it out with your teacher first. Your homeroom teacher is Dago, right?" She nodded. "You should talk out your affliction with him. Perhaps he cannot solve it, but he is far more experienced in Agatecraft than most, so he should be able to alleviate it. But let me warn you, his response will be…"

  ""Discipline is imperative?"" Two people spoke at the same time, and Christie remembered that Agatha had been sitting next to her all this time. They both chuckled at each other, with each other.

  "Not quite, but that is also valid," the nurse let out a chuckle of his own. "I was going to say that he will make you train your body. If your body is weak, then the best way to avoid such issues is to make it stronger. But I think I can help you with that."

  The man took a step backward and walked to a vitrine with many medicines. He grabbed a whole pot containing black pellets.

  "This medicine will calm your stomach, so if you take it before training, at least you will avoid throwing up. The exhaustion and ragged breath will still stay, though."

  "Better than nothing is," Christie took the jar from his hands and slightly bowed. "Thank you."

  "That is why I am here," the man smiled. "I recommend you to go eat something, but…" he looked at a grandfather clock stationed in the corner of the infirmary, "the hour is less than optimal. I would recommend you rest a bit longer as it will be packed right now."

  "That will be a non-issue," Christie responded as she stood up from the bed. "We still have to change ourselves, and that is going to take us a bit of time already."

  "You do you, I do not have the authority to stop you," he raised and showed his open palms. "But do take care."

  "That is a given," the redhead responded with a confident smile before strutting out of the infirmary.

  Her roommate walked after her and closed the door behind her. Christie took two more steps on the corridor before she nearly tripped and was forced to support herself on the wall. Agatha took leisurely but long strides as she walked before her.

  "Want some help?" The girl with the sapphire pendant beamed a smile at her.

  "Yes, please," Christie accepted without hesitation.

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