Hera was, by all accounts, an immaculate beauty. Small, peach-tinted lips. Her electric purple hair was hidden magically by a silky black concealment spell, but you could see it when she wanted you to. Her eyes were the real killer–sparkling like a gray amethyst reflecting a cosmic indigo color.
To most, she was a natural beauty—effortless, the kind women would sell their souls to rival.
To Ryker, she was more like a sister. Which meant there was always a fifty–fifty chance she'd either save his ass… or be the root cause of his downfall. Today seemed like it was an out of the frying pan and into the fire type of day.
"I'd ask what kicked your ass but we're pushing it as it is! There's only two spots left!" She grabbed him, casting an intermediate healing spell as she guided him off the bed.
She was also two years his senior.
"Hold on, Hera. I'm still—"
"I'll finish the healing while we walk. You are not missing this ceremony for anything, ya hear me?" Her words carried a dose of authority, despite her inability of sounding any meaner than an angel.
A warmth rushed through Ryker as the healing took effect, threading through his sore muscles and brittle bones. They stepped out of the infirmary into a massive expanse of a hallway.
Ranfield University for Magical Combat and Arts.
He'd never actually been inside before. Years of gawking at its magnificence from the outside couldn't have prepared him for the stunning beauty of these walls.
"Ryker."
"Yeah?"
"They're going to appraise you, okay? Take my word for it and don't let the rank bother you. Whatever they give you, Yuri and I know you are stronger."
"Okay…" His words came with a clear lack of esteem. "What rank did Yuri get? Last I heard she completed her rift yesterday…"
"Don't worry about that either, comparing yourself to a damn Kharazel and Cinerai mix." Hera kissed her teeth. "She's two breeds of demon and built to overcome hell or high water." She said, rapping Ryker against the shoulder.
Ryker listened, admiring the elegance of the many tapestries and art pieces decorating the halls as she continued.
"Besides–I know she wouldn't waste her heart on a man who couldn't whoop some serious ass!"
"What's that even mean?" He side-eyed her snickering face.
"Oh please, I know you two don't waste a second together." Her elbow jabbed at his tender ribs.
"Ow–Fuck off, Hera! We don't–" Her finger met his lips, shushing him effectively. He blushed, not at her but at the thought of her potentially knowing. Yuri was certainly not a woman who wanted to wait, of which Ryker had learned the best way possible.
"I'm only half teasing." A staff twice her height manifested from her palm. Ebony wood with traces of glimmering gold forming into an ancient-looking stick with a cerulean orb jammed into the end. "Seriously though. Don't let her down. Get in there, O' Holy Helios."
She nudged him toward a massive golden door he'd failed to notice in his fluster.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
…
"Is he gonna be there?" Ryker placed a hand on the door, examining the inscriptions on its shimmering gold surface.
"Who?" Ryker could hear her twisting open a door behind him.
"You know who."
"Oh. Yeah. He wants to see how you fare." She poked him in the back with her staff.
"Why?"
"He requested that I don't tell. So I won't." A weak hum left her staff, igniting the door with a mesmerizing golden and blue glow.
"By Sydra's Divine Covenant, I demand thee yield and open." She waved her staff with practiced precision and spoke in perfect Helikath.
The door obliged, swinging open slowly with an old creak.
"When did you learn Helikath?"
"When did your people settle in The Americas? I'm a Princess after all." She winked at him, stuck her tongue out and flipped him the bird. Before he could dare to retort she vanished through a doorway that faded into the wall.
Ryker sighed.
"Asshole." He joked, speeding to a brisk pace toward the growing mass of students gathering at the base of a vast flight of stairs. "Oh…this is it?"
His voice seemed to draw rage from the group. They all froze upon sighting him.
A cacophony of barely inaudible whispers consumed the Appraisal Hall. Any that could be made out were in languages he couldn't hope to understand.
It wasn't an unusual experience for Ryker. He'd been the center of everything this great City-State of Ranfield could ever hate for about nine years now. Nobody ever stops caring about being hated like that...people like him could just avoid the prying eyes.
Until now. The one thing Ryker dreaded about his dream was this. These people.
He made the mistake of locking eyes with one of the female candidates. Her face twisted in disgust, while her friends shielded her from his indifferent gaze.
My bad…I just can't figure where to go…
His eyes scanned the room, awkwardly avoiding direct eye contact–his gaze trailing just below head level.
"Young Itsuka." A gentle, yet powerful voice pulled him from the void. His gaze lifted to find, at the top of a vast staircase that stretched unreasonably long–Headmaster Keening. "Come. Present the spoils of Tribulation."
Whispers erupted amongst the young candidacy.
"Itsuka…so he is Yuuta's son."
"The Leviathan's child has no right studying amongst us."
…
He reached the top, barely meeting Keening's eyes, then dipped into his pocket, withdrew two beautiful gemstones, and offered them to Headmaster Keening.
Behind him, sitting against what looked to be a church pew inscribed in Helikath, two older men and two middle-aged women watched him closely. Their eyes like daggers, perfectly matching the feeling of his peers.
It was a shared feeling of resentment. Unanimous, almost.
"Ryker. I sent you to defeat a Basalt Mauler. Why is it you have two Corified Stones?" He examined the Golem's drained heart, thumbing it gently.
Ryker cleared his throat.
"The Mauler had a guardian. It was much weaker than the Mauler itself but…I still struggled." His fingers anxiously played with a tear in his sleeve. "I drained the heart so I could keep fighting…"
"They sent him to a dungeon?" a girl whispered, thinking he couldn't hear. Ryker edged his head to the side, catching a glimpse of the Cinerai girl.
"At me, young man." Headmaster Keening snapped his fingers twice, drawing the four staff to stand beside him. "You're telling me that the Rift I personally checked myself two days ago had evolved into a Proto-Dungeon? In that span of time?"
"I–" He froze, barely even knowing what these words meant. "--Sir–I don't know what any of that means. All I know is that when I tried cracking the Mauler's egg I got attacked by a Rune Golem."
"How did you beat it? Rune Golems are at minimum a rank above you." One of the women spoke with venom in her voice.
Ryker couldn't help but feel hurt by her words. That Golem was the Mauler's crony. Nothing compared to the Mauler itself.
"I dunno. Why're you casting a vote of no confidence on my performance against it when the original target was three times its strength?" The words slipped out without bothering to pass his filter.
Her eyes went wide, as did everyone else's. Except for The Headmaster's.
He chuckled, swatting Ryker on the shoulder just hard enough to sting. "I'll tell you later, Itsuka. Steel yourself, an old friend is here."
Ryker knew exactly who he was referring to.
A wave of pressure flooded into the massive Appraisal Hall. Ryker's eyes lowered again, refusing to look at the door.
It swung open. Standing there was a man. Ryker's age, a little taller and surrounded by a troop of women.
Cassian Vermont
Tall, wealthy on the level of small countries and absolutely the definition of magically inclined. He was Ryker's exact age, they shared a birthday. And, much to everyone's surprise, he was a rare case of pure-bred human. A rarity in Ranfield where most were hybrids or Aliens of some sort.
"Headmaster Keening, sir. I've completed my Proto-dungeon." His face reeked of political apathy. One of the girls with him hugged his arm, very deliberately pressing her chest against him.
Not even a twitch.
"Step up here. And don't cause a commotion." Keening gestured for Ryker to step aside.
Cassian approached with a noble elegance that masked the utter disdain his face clearly communicated with Ryker. Utter hatred. They'd had clashes before, one of which almost killed Ryker.
Neither could say the other's mutual resentment was unjustified.
He came to a stop next to Ryker. Presented a crimson jewel to the Headmaster and bowed his head, a collection of talismans and rings clinking against each other. His harem carefully backed down the steps in response to a rigid gesture from a man behind the headmaster.
"You look to be unharmed." Keening handed Ryker's gems back to him. "I do hope you cleared this task on your own, yes?"
Cassian hesitated.
Keening eyed the crimson stone now in his hand.
"Hera accompanied me to supervise, Headmaster. She did not intervene. And yes, I never removed the blockers."
…
"Good work, young man. Have you any idea what rank this creature was?" He handed the stone back, a gentle smile on his face.
"Not particularly, sir. But even with blockers it was quite easy to deal with. So I'd assume it was in the Intermediate range." He chuckled under his breath. "Of course, I imagine you wouldn't send me to crawl a Beginner dungeon. While you sent my inferior to an Intermediate 3 Proto-Dungeon."
How does he know that?
Keening raised a hand, stopping Ryker's retort.
"No, I wouldn't do such a thing. Both of you refrain from your usual antics and prepare for appraisal." He seemed angry now, a knowing expression crossing his face.
"Yes, Sir." Cassian said quietly.
"Absolutely, Headmaster." Ryker said, mirroring Cassian.
Both Ryker and Cassian heard the appraisal hall door open, a wave of students filing in behind them while they maintained their focus on the headmaster. Ryker pocketed his corified hearts, shifted his posture and examined the group behind Keening.