Chapter 18: A Half-Elf, A Noble, And A Lion

Ryland wended his way through the gathered hopefuls until he was standing before the trio that the clerk had indicated.

His first impression of them was an unfortunate abundance of… disparity. And it wasn’t just their looks. The way they stood slightly apart from each other, the way they held themselves like each of them was their own little fortress, it all combined to banish any notions that his team was a well-drilled group where he would be the only odd one out.

Pros and cons. Ryland could—would need to—work with this.

“Are you our surprise fourth teammate?” asked a tall, half-elvhenan woman who kept her pointy ears prominently displayed by maintaining her auburn hair in a tight bun. “You’re late. Really, really late.”

She meant in general. He had checked the time and ensured he wouldn’t miss today’s program.

“Nice to meet you too,” Ryland said pleasantly. “My name is Ryland.”

The half-elvhenan had the grace to flush just a bit. “Alendra. I’ll be pleased to make your acquaintance after I’ve seen what you’re capable of.”

Blunt, bordering on rude, but he certainly couldn’t fault her for that approach. A bad teammate could cost her a place in arguably the most prestigious institution of magic in the entirety of the Accorded Realms. People were known to kill to gain an acceptance letter from Arcoryx Academy.

His next teammate was a noble. An impression reinforced by his blithe greeting.

“Kendren,” said a young blond human in rich clothes, flourishing the shallowest of bows. “Welcome to the team, Ryland. I’d ask you to do your best, but… I’m going to pass one way or another, so you can honestly do whatever.”

Right. That made sense. No doubt he had made some sort of arrangement to ensure his entrance into the academy.

In the past, he might have scowled at it. He would have considered it a usurpation of a spot for someone truly meritorious and dedicated. And even now, Ryland wouldn’t blame anyone feeling or thinking that way. He understood the perspective all too well.

But such rash feelings had mellowed out over the years. For one, he didn’t know this lord. For another, he was technically jumping to conclusions based on one sentence.

Deliberation was, as ever, important.

So, Ryland merely nodded his head amicably.

“Sint,” said the lion-headed Therian. She didn’t say anything further. Her getup wasn’t that dissimilar from Ryland’s, with a dark cloak obscuring her other clothes and accoutrements.

“A pleasure to meet you all,” Ryland said. He faced Sint, the Therian. “Did you get that cloak from Realm 7? I think I recognize the stitches.”

“Realm… seven?” she asked. Her voice was a little bit growly, a trait of feline Therians that made them sound permanently angry. Ryland didn’t detect any heat in her voice. Just wariness.

“Apologies,” he said. “I meant Revorel.”

“I’m from there, yes.”

Rather than that being a point of common ground they could bond over, Ryland could see her physically tense up. Hmm. Was he really that bad at making friends? Maybe she was just wondering how in the world did he possess a cloak from her home world when he was clearly no Therian.

Ryland thought about explaining, but then, Alendra was stepping up.

“So Ryland,” she said. “I’m aware of what the other two are capable of. You, by virtue of being completely new, are a mystery.”

“You will find that I’m a perfectly open individual.”

“Is that right?” Her eyes screwed up. “Being too open isn’t a good thing, though. It’s suspicious. But anyway, I’m obviously not going to ask what your Soul Glyph is. So instead, answer me this—how good are you at barrier magic?”

“I like to think I’m rather proficient at it,” Ryland said.

Honestly, he’d have told them what his Soul Glyphs were, but Alendra had brought up an interesting point. Ryland could try being affable, but if he did so in odd ways, he would end up simply alienating others. Not everyone was as accepting of weirdness like Viren seemed to be. Especially in a situation like this, where a lot was on the line.

“That’s good,” Alendra said approvingly. “And how good are you at aggression management spells?”

“Very proficient at those as well,” Ryland said.

Alendra frowned. “You said that about barrier spells.”

“Can one not be proficient at multiple things?”

“They can. Yet the chances of one person being proficient at multiple things is slim. That’s just reality. How about direct damage spells?”

“Very proficient.”

“…healing spells?”

“Very proficient.”

“Support spells? Conjuring magic? Summons? Transfiguration? Divination?”

“Adept, competent, adequate, capable, and fine enough if I do say so myself.”

Alendra scowled, her thin face looking even sharper for it. “Okay, now you just sound like a Calamity-cursed thesaurus. Are you trying to pull my leg or something?”

Ryland raised his eyebrows. It was always a tiny bit jarring to hear “Calamity” being used as an everyday curse. “Had I been pulling your leg, would you not be dangling from my hand right about now?”

Alendra stared at him.

Kendren was the one who broke the silence with a barking laugh. He clapped a hand over his stomach to contain his laughter. “Looks like we’ve got a jack of all trades. What kind of insane magic lets you be good at everything?”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“It’s a farce!” Alendra said. “He can’t be good at everything.” Her face turned cold. “Looks like we’ll have to stick with our original plan. We’ll just pretend he’s not there and take care of things ourselves.”

Kendren tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. I thought I was going to be carried, not be forced to carry others.”

Alendra turned her glare on him, but he wilted away before she could scold him. Sint remained silent through the exchange, her cautious eyes trying to bore a hole through Ryland’s skull.

Hmm. He had thought being open would be most ideal. If they had all their capabilities out in the open, then they would surely be able to work significantly better. That was how it had been done in the Realmbreaker Wars. Commanders and leaders had been insistent on clear and open communication.

It seemed his new teammates weren’t quite appreciating that. Clearly, Ryland was missing something.

Something that went beyond just the simple disbelief that one person could be good at all kinds of magic. Because Sint had been wary from the start. He supposed it was odd for a surprise candidate to enter the Trials at the last minute. In their shoes, he’d have been suspicious too.