After half an hour of waiting, the group hear the faint hum of approaching hover skiffs followed by the orderly shouting soldiers creating a perimeter.

  “Hello in there! Do you mind coming out?” The group hears a man shout from outside the dome, which Allia has been sporadically reinforcing the entire time, past the point where it blocks all sight from the outside.

  Allia lowers half the dome barriers until they can see the outside in blurry detail, but so the outside still can’t see in. Through the blur, they can make out a dozen figures wearing the blue Thalassian army uniform and armed with wand carbines.

  “Is it safe out there?” Allia shouts back.

  “We’re securing the perimeter now, but we do not believe any more demons to be in hiding,” the soldier responds.

  “What about the buildings. Will they collapse?”

  “We have an earth mage shoring them up as we speak.”

  Allia nods and lifts all the barriers, which she condenses into balls floating above her, save for one last one, which she keeps around herself as a shield effect. With the domes down, they see a pair of hover skiffs hanging back with the operators crewing the swivel-mounted piercer canons at them.

  “An interesting effect.” The lead soldier nods at the glowing bubble around her that moves as she does.

  “Just an augmented shield,” Allia explains.

  “Right, well, we’re going to have to ask you all to deactivate any shield effects, augmented or not. Demons might still be about in disguise. You understand.”

  “We do not.” J steps forward with a scowl, her arms crossed sternly. “You have more than enough weaponry to overwhelm our shields should you need to.” She gestures vaguely at their carbines, then specifically at their piercer canons. “We have no reason to make ourselves vulnerable to stray shots should fighting suddenly break.”

  The officer glances to a soldier to his right who whispers something, then back to J. “Are you Professor Jaikeskurden?” He mangles the pronunciation.

  “I am.”

  “Good,” he says, then turns to a subordinate. “Send a sprite to HQ and let them know we’ve acquired the primary target. We’ll take them in a skiff back to base and…”

  “I refuse.” J declares. “If you are to take me into protective custody, then it is to be to a location on campus, not the army base.”

  “Professor, please be reasonable. The school isn’t safe…”

  “Then you have lied,” J interrupts. “Allia, lower the dome. We shall remain here until his words become true.”

  The soldier lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. The gym should still be intact. We’ll take you there.”

  “And any other students or faculty you have taken or will take into custody as well.” J presses.

  “I don’t have the authority to make that decision.”

  “Then we will wait until we hear from someone who does. Allia, the dome.”

  “Ugh! Fine! Send a sprite relaying the Professor’s request…”

  “Demand.” J corrects him.

  “…Her demand to HQ.”

  One of the soldiers spends a minute chanting to create a pink glowing orb which they speak the message to. Once done, they throw it into the air, causing it to zip off into the night. At the same time, J creates her own sprite, which she sends to the campus security station, saying that she’s alive and about to be taken into army custody. Then she sends another to the dean’s house and a third to another location, saying the same thing.

  Alex and Sarrah likewise send messages to their parents letting them know the situation and that they’re safe. The soldiers try to protest out of reflex, but J stares them down.

  After a five-minute wait, another pink light orb zips into view and lands in the hands of the original sender. A gruff female voice comes out as the soldier catches it. “Tell the professor that we have graciously accepted her request and are en route to the interview site – General Ikenhal.”

  “You heard it. May we go now?” The officer asks J.

  “It is agreeable,” J says, and the officer motions for one of the skiffs to land.

  The skiff is a narrow boat-like, flat-bottomed, open platform about 35 feet long, white on the bottom and dark grey on the top, with two glowing blue enchanted spheres attached to the side a quarter from the rear. There are two raised platforms on the front and back. On the back one sits the pilot, strapped to a chair and operating a smaller sphere which acts as the controls. On the front platform is a swivel mount for a light cannon, fitted with a tri-barreled shield piercer wand with accumulator extensions for rapid fire, making the weapon nearly 5 feet long. The middle is recessed about three feet down from the end platform and contains two dozen chairs lined back to back. Safety rails are in front of the chairs with smaller swivel mounts with runes to quickly absolve any wand placed in them – shunting the burden to the boat at large.

  Climbing in over the sides on short ladders, the officer has the four strap into the chairs, two to a side, then positions himself on a chair at the back of the skiff facing the two rows and fills the rest of the seats with more soldiers, who conspicuously keep their carbines not trained on the four, but not far from it.

  It would only have been a 5-minute walk to the gym, but the skiff turns that into 20 seconds. In fact, it takes longer to climb aboard and strap in than it actually does to fly there, but it seems that the officer does not want to get there after his superiors.

  There are several soldiers in the main gym, as well as a number of students. The soldiers group everyone together and discourage talk with stern looks, but don’t do anything more if the chatter persists. The group of four, however, remains silent.

  About 5 minutes later, several more hover skiffs are heard landing along with one bigger sounding craft. Shortly after that, a procession of high-ranking officers walk through the gym and enter one of the private training rooms where some soldiers were setting up tables and chairs. As they enter, an attendant breaks from their formation to go and ask J to join them.

  As they wait, several other students are asked to go to other rooms, but all come out after about 5 minutes and are then allowed to leave. Some of the students are receiving medical assistance and don’t get called, but one by one, everyone else goes into the other rooms while Allia and her friends wait.

  After about 45 minutes, J finally emerges from the room. She walks over to Allia’s group and says, “I’ll see you three when classes resume,” which is their code phrase for the plan to still be in effect, then leaves.

  Allia is called to the room J just left. There’s an empty chair in the centre and a table where three highly decorated officers are seated. In the centre is a gruff man, to his right a gruff woman (recognizable from the posters as Ikenhal), and on his left an emerald-scaled, erudite looking sphenodite – a reptilian founding species of the Thalassian Federation. The sphenodites are easily discernible at a glance from the simulated squamatans Allia fought in class by their straighter posture, smaller mouths, spinal ridges running from the top of the head to the tip of the tail, and slightly chubby build (though the latter is somewhat obscured by the flowing uniform marking him as one of the army’s grand arcanists).

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “So,” the gruff man in the centre says as she sits down. “Let’s start at the beginning. Why were you at the school so late?”

  “My friend Sarrah had her blossoming, so she was getting examined by Professor J. We normally walk home together.”

  “Is that so? Isn’t that convenient, miss…?” he flips through a series of papers.

  “Not really,” Allia says without answering his implied question of her name. “I would rather have not been caught in the fighting.”

  “Is that so? And yet testimony from your fellow students states that you charged the enemy position on your own. Would you care to explain that?”

  …My stomach growls.

  I sit up in bed, clutching my pounding head. I need food. I should have gotten something earlier, when the old bat always goes out for her tea group, but that stupid headache was so bad I just laid in bed instead of getting any. I thought the pain would go away in a few hours, like it normally does, but just when I thought it was over, it had to start up again, even worse than before. Stupid.

  It isn't just the headache this time either. Aches and chills all throughout my body and… yeah, that’s some blood. It’s just from the nose though… and a little from the gums. It’s fine. Or it will be in a couple of hours, but I need food for body and soul or else it’ll be a long night.

  Wrapping my blankets around me as I go, I drag myself up and swing open the rickety dresser where I stash my snacks and find the spot empty.

  Of course, I forgot. Tybalt doesn’t come by until tomorrow, and he couldn’t find a few items on the list last week. Meaning the total batch was short, meaning I ate through it all yesterday. Stupid. I should call him. Of course, he’d just complain about the productivity lost for his stupid job, as if they’re ever going to promote him. Idiot. I should do it anyways. It would serve him right, bringing a short batch.

  But no, I shouldn’t. Best to keep them placated. I don’t want another … what was his name? Anyways, Tybalt shouldn’t be a problem, but all the same.

  So, what does that leave me? I suppose I could just starve until Tybalt gets here, but the pain vetoes that option. I could send Argyle, but he hasn’t recovered from that… misunderstanding with the shrew… I suppose I’ll have to go down myself…Stupid. Well, it’s not like there’s anything interesting going on up here.

  The too thin door creaks as I open it, so I decide not to close it. It’ll only be a moment. I don’t turn on the hall’s light, so I end up stumbling a bit in the dark on the way to the stairs, using only the light coming from under the doors of my fellow lodgers’ rooms. The floorboards creak as I go down the stairs.

  The lights downstairs are off, but the glow of the streetlamp coming through the window over the sign is enough to find what I’m looking for. I open a cabinet and grab some dried noodles, some garlic, onion and some green thing that I can boil together in my room.

  The lights flicker on, filling the room in false daylight and causing my eyes to unfocus in the sudden intensity. I shoot my hands over my face, both from the brightness and finding an interaction with my fellow lodgers undesirable.

  “Oh…it’s you.” The shrew says, standing in the kitchen’s threshold. “I thought it might be… never mind.” My eyes flicker to the broom she’s holding, half concealed by the wall. Doesn’t she have anything more robust?

  Whatever. I don’t really care that she caught me. It’s not like she can complain about taking some food off schedule. Part of the rent goes to her buying and making meals for everyone. So, it’d be absurd for her to complain since I never join them at the table – getting most of my nutrients from the snacks Tybalt brings me – so I’m not really getting my money’s worth.

  “Hungry,” I say, pulling down my lips to reveal my bloody gums and making to go past her.

  “Right…wait, what? No, wait, I need to talk with you.”

  “Sigh.” Though I do stop to give an exasperated glare. “Right now?” I ask, showing her my bleeding gums again.

  “You don’t seem very worried about it. Besides, you don’t like me going to your room, and when do I ever see you?”

  “Fine,” I say, leaning against the island’s creamy white ceramic tiled top and crossing my arms for comfort, “what do you want to say?”

  She twists her mouth as if getting a bad taste out of her mouth, but pushes through it and brushes her jaw-length wavy brown hair out of her face to show the intently gazing brown eyes. Her crow’s feet have gotten more pronounced since I last saw her, though that might just be the time of night.

  “It’s um… about your rent.”

  “What about it? It’s paid, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, that’s not the issue. The issue is… Listen. I like running a student house. Doing all the stuff so you can focus on your studies. But if you’re not going to be a student…”

  “I am a student!” I snap. “I’m studying, doing all the assignments. My grades are good. So, what’s the problem?”

  “How can you possibly expect me to believe that if you never attend classes?”

  “It’s taken care of.”

  She flings her hands out in a palm up gesture. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means it’s taken care of! What do you care?! You get paid either way.”

  “I care because your rent is supplemented by the government’s fund for students. But if you aren’t going, then they’ll file a report with the housing authority. They could even come after me for fraud or suspend my license.”

  I roll my eyes at her dramatics. As if she couldn’t get out of any trouble by pinning it all on me. As if they’d even come in the first place. “It’s taken care of.” I emphasize again.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Fine, don’t then. Do you want more money? I can pay you more, and you can take my name off the forms.”

  She grips her face with her hand, fingers splayed, rubbing them up into her hair. “I don’t want more money. I want you to go to class.”

  “I don’t need to. It’s taken care of. Just take the money if you’re going to be a pain. I don’t care about it. I have enough.”

  “What, you don’t care about spending your father’s money, so you’re just throwing it away? I know Derick doesn’t have that much.”

  Derick? Oh right. “No,” I draw out with unconcealed contempt at her twisting what I said. “My money. I’ve earned myself.”

  “How? You never leave your room!”

  “Mind your damn business.” I look her in the eye, challenging her to pursue.

  “... Look. I can’t take your money if you’re getting it illegally.”

  I snap at her assumption, standing up straight and taking a step forward. She winces but does not retreat. “It’s not illegal.” Technically. “Even if it was, you still can’t refuse payment without proof.”

  “…” She breathes in and out heavily, tapping her foot in thought before throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. “Fine! You know what? Have it your way. You’re paid until the end of the month; If you go to class before then, you can stay on the student rate. Otherwise, you’ll be paying triple your current rate.”

  “Triple?” I ask, surprised. “For that dingy room? Replacing the supplement would only be double.”

  “What? You think I make any real profit housing students, even with the supplement? If you’re going to be a regular lodger, you can pay for regular lodging. Even that’s cheaper than what you’ll get elsewhere, especially with all my extra services, not to mention the insurance I’ll need now that the government won’t be covering accidental damages.” She looks me in the eyes, challenging me to challenge her.

  “…Fine. I can do triple, no problem,” I say, not bothering with her games and pushing past her to go back up to my room.

  She sighs audibly, clearly having not wanted me to acquiesce to the price. “Look, just go to class, just once, and you can keep the old price. A…”

  She cuts short as I glare at her. My eyes go to the broom leaning against the wall, and I smile at the chance to get back at her, showing her my still bloody gums. “You know, you really shouldn’t hit spiders. Don’t you know they’re our friends?”

  Her face blanches, and I can’t help but laugh as I stomp up the stairs, not caring if I wake any of the other lodgers.

  I think that went as well as could be expected. I’ll have to change which residence I have listed with the school to the other one, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Probably better anyways. Simpler.

  I look at the bundle of collected food as I enter my room, not feeling enough energy to bother making it with my recently aggravated pounding headache. I take a bite from the onion, powering my teeth through the papery outer skin… Great, no taste. My eyes don’t even water. None of this stuff will do me any good. I need to sleep before the benefit will be worth the effort.

  I take another bite anyways, just out of formality and because it’s easier to chew than the dry noodles, then toss the whole bundle on the nightstand. I drown my face in the sweet, overstuffed pillow and turn my thoughts elsewhere.

  “You’re free to leave,” the soldier says to Allia as she leaves the interview chamber. “We have the address you gave. If we have any more questions, then the follow up notice should arrive in a few days, so make sure you check your mail.” His expression is bland, tired from the paperwork that he knows won’t result in anything due to the army’s lack of jurisdiction to investigate more than they already have in their emergency response.

  “Can I wait for my friend?” Allia asks. “I promised we’d walk home together.”

  “Be our guest.” The soldier says, gesturing to a row of chairs lined up against the wall with only a single occupant.

  Allia nods gratefully and chooses to sit next to the lone boy with silver hair and pointed ears. “Hey,” she says, starting up a conversation.