What’s going on? I have to walk half the Crystal City, asking for directions from shocked passersby, and head to the outer city to take the school meant for the lower caste. Did Jasmine face this kind of ostracism? Even if they wanted to send me to the school, why didn’t they let me ride a carriage? Are they parading me for all the world to see?
Could it be that I’m not engaged yet? Spring lowered her gaze, focusing on Jasmine’s ring. The elaborately carved band of platinum with a lemon-colored glowing mana crystal shaped like a dahlia was definitely a symbol of a bond.
The early stage third level mana coursing through the fragile petals was something Spring craved. If she could exchange it for the coins she needed, she could refine her core to an initial third level in two months. But to sell Salazar Sun’s engagement ring was an absurd notion, even assuming someone had the courage and the finances to purchase it.
I’m engaged to a person who views me highly, and who’s rich enough to give this to me. So, what’s happening? Have they gone mad? No. Never assume anyone is doing something because they are insane. Jasmine Searing’s father wouldn’t have reached his position if he was insane.
If it wasn’t obvious last night, by now I know they are distancing themselves from me. Did Salazar really die in Thorn’s ambush? That would skew the course of history, and my knowledge of the future becomes useless. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the only conclusion I can draw.
My fiancé is dead, this ring a huge problem everyone will try to steal from me. Shouldn’t they have killed me already, then? No. They are afraid of the Suns, there are dozens of first-rate clans competing over resources. If the Suns believed the Searing Flame clan had assassinated their heir, they would come in force and enslave everyone here. So, they need to keep me alive until the Sun clan’s inquisitors arrive.
Where does that leave me? Spring considered the empty dining hall, the fact that her parents had not spoken to her yet, despite being awake. Those were clear signs of distancing themselves from her. However, sending her to school on foot, was but a step away from pushing her out into the gutter.
Spring passed the massive final line of defense and stepped into the militaristicly built hunters’ quarter. She ignored the gasps of insignificant people staring at a scowling heiress marching down the crooked streets, and, two hours after leaving her home, she had arrived at the hunter school.
She disregarded the distant buildings, observing the wide open yard with stone weights, wooden training dummies sculpted like armed men and some common wildling varieties. There were no trees, no shade, and even though it was merely three and a half hours after sunrise, the paved exercise yard simmered in the blazing heat.
Four groups of eighteen-year-olds ran circles around the field, with three men and one woman watching over them. Just like the students, the instructors wore short gray trousers and sleeveless shirts.
Spring froze when she took in the sight.. The teachers missing limbs did not shock her. Nothing about the scene did. However, the prospect of having to wear something as scandalous was an insult to a wealthy family’s young miss.
“Gather round,” the female instructor in late thirties or early forties shouted and her pack of thirty-nine youths stopped running their laps and headed straight for her.
“Come here, Miss Searing,” the maimed woman said. She tried to sound rough and authoritative, yet she obviously feared the background of the young miss she had addressed.
Spring expected the students to falter with surprise, however, they acted calm enough. She spotted several lecherous looks from the young men, but considering Jasmine’s looks, she had expected such gazes much sooner.
“I’m not wearing that,” she pointed in the general direction of the uniform-wearing students.
“One size does not fit all,” she proclaimed, sneering at the shirts which were short on the tall students, while the legless trousers resembled underwear. The shorter ones had fared better, but two chesty young women looked like they would burst free of their enclosure any moment.
“Youn— Miss Searing,” the instructor corrected herself before speaking. “These uniforms are a school tradition. Running and moving is much simpler and—”
“I don’t care. I will wear my dress today. Let us begin.” Spring brooked no argument. She kept her face covered with a veil, her eyes frigid, and her back rod-straight, beaming with arrogance of the entitled.
The one-legged woman opened her mouth to protest, but faltered under Spring’s despotic glare.
“Bring something more appropriate tomorrow,” the instructor said, glancing back to see how much her standing had fallen before her students. “You are an hour and a half late. You will join us for the morning run, and then, while we have class, you will lift weights to make up for the mandatory exercise you missed.”
Spring nodded, and with the clap of the maimed instructor’s hands, her forty students returned to running.
A short young woman ran up to Spring, who joined the back of the pack.
“That was so yellow,” she started sucking up the first moment the chance presented itself.
Spring examined her slick brow, sweat-drenched clothes, and tanned face flushed red. Then she faced forward, ignoring the fawning peasant.
“I am Mira, short for Miraim,” Mira introduced herself, pretending she did not notice Spring’s disdain. “Old hag Wartorn told us to treat you like any other student, yet she didn’t dare beat you for talking back.”
Spring nodded, acknowledging the statement and prompting Mira to keep talking. “I overheard several bigger boys talking about snatching your allowance after school.”
Spring smirked. “I have no money.”
“The school will give you some. All students get a maroon a week. Since this is the third week, they should give you three.”
Jasmine nodded. She had no interest in the hunter school back when she spoke with Darin. Otherwise, she would have known everything down to minor details. How could I have expected my parents would send me to the hunter caste school?
Mira proved useful, but talking while running for an hour and a half under the blazing sun took its toll on her. The girl was flushed and short of breath by the time the run finished.
“You’re alright,” Spring said, and the panting girl lying on the ground wriggled with joy, reminding Spring of a fish trashing on dry land.
“Come here,” the brooding teacher called her students over to the weights. “We were supposed to have our class in the classroom, but since Miss Searing was late, we have to stay here until she completes her mandatory exercise.”
Are you goading them against me? Spring said nothing, but noticed the faces of the surrounding youths turn sour. The extra hour and a half meant they would stay in the scalding midday sun, cooked in the forty-odd degrees.
“Miss Searing, you will start with fifty pushups, fifty pull-ups, and five hundred squats, then you may move onto rock lifting.”
Sweat is a problem. Luckily, second-face has all the glands in place, but my dress has become see-through, and the men are looking at the outlines of my white underwear.
Spring grit her teeth. Despite still wearing her veil, she emulated the wide range of human gestures, painting a congruent image. Her face and ears burned from embarrassment and indignation, while her gaze harbored icy rage and determination not to buckle before this humiliating trial.
“Miss Searing, I shall repeat some of the most important matters we have discussed before you joined us. For more details, you may address your classmates.” Old hag Wartorn confirmed Mira’s guess. Spring would get three crystal coins charged with initial-red mana, if she could advance her mana core by a stage before the end of the first month of school, her allowance would increase to one early-red carmine crystal coin, if she advanced it by two stages, her allowance would become a mid-red vermilion.
Considering first level hunters received three peak-red ginger-colored crystal coin a month, a student who grew from initial to mid stage in four weeks would earn a hefty sum. However, even with proper funding, advancing twice during one month was difficult, and middle-class hunter families could rarely spare so many crystal coins on their children.
After a month, the school would grant the budding hunters their first grafts for free. The students could choose between flame-flower and barkskin. Under the blazing sun, sweat poured off Spring’s face, dripping on the hot stones, the wet spots shrinking and drying in moments.
I’m so glad I drank during my shower this morning, second-face is drawing my water like crazy.
The instructor explained about the monthly hunt simulations, which would take place in the weald outside the outer wall. Sky listened and memorized everything, focusing on her breathing, emulating a struggle for breath.
Finally, her punishment ended, and even the disabled hunter talking on and on seemed delirious.
“Let’s go to the classroom,” Wartorn said and led the group into the large stone building.
What’s going on? I have to walk half the Crystal City, asking for directions from shocked passersby, and head to the outer city to take the school meant for the lower caste. Did Jasmine face this kind of ostracism? Even if they wanted to send me to the school, why didn’t they let me ride a carriage? Are they parading me for all the world to see?
Could it be that I’m not engaged yet? Spring lowered her gaze, focusing on Jasmine’s ring. The elaborately carved band of platinum with a lemon-colored glowing mana crystal shaped like a dahlia was definitely a symbol of a bond.
The early stage third level mana coursing through the fragile petals was something Spring craved. If she could exchange it for the coins she needed, she could refine her core to an initial third level in two months. But to sell Salazar Sun’s engagement ring was an absurd notion, even assuming someone had the courage and the finances to purchase it.
I’m engaged to a person who views me highly, and who’s rich enough to give this to me. So, what’s happening? Have they gone mad? No. Never assume anyone is doing something because they are insane. Jasmine Searing’s father wouldn’t have reached his position if he was insane.
If it wasn’t obvious last night, by now I know they are distancing themselves from me. Did Salazar really die in Thorn’s ambush? That would skew the course of history, and my knowledge of the future becomes useless. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the only conclusion I can draw.
My fiancé is dead, this ring a huge problem everyone will try to steal from me. Shouldn’t they have killed me already, then? No. They are afraid of the Suns, there are dozens of first-rate clans competing over resources. If the Suns believed the Searing Flame clan had assassinated their heir, they would come in force and enslave everyone here. So, they need to keep me alive until the Sun clan’s inquisitors arrive.
Where does that leave me? Spring considered the empty dining hall, the fact that her parents had not spoken to her yet, despite being awake. Those were clear signs of distancing themselves from her. However, sending her to school on foot, was but a step away from pushing her out into the gutter.
Spring passed the massive final line of defense and stepped into the militaristicly built hunters’ quarter. She ignored the gasps of insignificant people staring at a scowling heiress marching down the crooked streets, and, two hours after leaving her home, she had arrived at the hunter school.
She disregarded the distant buildings, observing the wide open yard with stone weights, wooden training dummies sculpted like armed men and some common wildling varieties. There were no trees, no shade, and even though it was merely three and a half hours after sunrise, the paved exercise yard simmered in the blazing heat.
Four groups of eighteen-year-olds ran circles around the field, with three men and one woman watching over them. Just like the students, the instructors wore short gray trousers and sleeveless shirts.
Spring froze when she took in the sight.. The teachers missing limbs did not shock her. Nothing about the scene did. However, the prospect of having to wear something as scandalous was an insult to a wealthy family’s young miss.
“Gather round,” the female instructor in late thirties or early forties shouted and her pack of thirty-nine youths stopped running their laps and headed straight for her.
“Come here, Miss Searing,” the maimed woman said. She tried to sound rough and authoritative, yet she obviously feared the background of the young miss she had addressed.
Spring expected the students to falter with surprise, however, they acted calm enough. She spotted several lecherous looks from the young men, but considering Jasmine’s looks, she had expected such gazes much sooner.
“I’m not wearing that,” she pointed in the general direction of the uniform-wearing students.
“One size does not fit all,” she proclaimed, sneering at the shirts which were short on the tall students, while the legless trousers resembled underwear. The shorter ones had fared better, but two chesty young women looked like they would burst free of their enclosure any moment.
“Youn— Miss Searing,” the instructor corrected herself before speaking. “These uniforms are a school tradition. Running and moving is much simpler and—”
“I don’t care. I will wear my dress today. Let us begin.” Spring brooked no argument. She kept her face covered with a veil, her eyes frigid, and her back rod-straight, beaming with arrogance of the entitled.
The one-legged woman opened her mouth to protest, but faltered under Spring’s despotic glare.
“Bring something more appropriate tomorrow,” the instructor said, glancing back to see how much her standing had fallen before her students. “You are an hour and a half late. You will join us for the morning run, and then, while we have class, you will lift weights to make up for the mandatory exercise you missed.”
Spring nodded, and with the clap of the maimed instructor’s hands, her forty students returned to running.
A short young woman ran up to Spring, who joined the back of the pack.
“That was so yellow,” she started sucking up the first moment the chance presented itself.
Spring examined her slick brow, sweat-drenched clothes, and tanned face flushed red. Then she faced forward, ignoring the fawning peasant.
“I am Mira, short for Miraim,” Mira introduced herself, pretending she did not notice Spring’s disdain. “Old hag Wartorn told us to treat you like any other student, yet she didn’t dare beat you for talking back.”
Spring nodded, acknowledging the statement and prompting Mira to keep talking. “I overheard several bigger boys talking about snatching your allowance after school.”
Spring smirked. “I have no money.”
“The school will give you some. All students get a maroon a week. Since this is the third week, they should give you three.”
Jasmine nodded. She had no interest in the hunter school back when she spoke with Darin. Otherwise, she would have known everything down to minor details. How could I have expected my parents would send me to the hunter caste school?
Mira proved useful, but talking while running for an hour and a half under the blazing sun took its toll on her. The girl was flushed and short of breath by the time the run finished.
“You’re alright,” Spring said, and the panting girl lying on the ground wriggled with joy, reminding Spring of a fish trashing on dry land.
“Come here,” the brooding teacher called her students over to the weights. “We were supposed to have our class in the classroom, but since Miss Searing was late, we have to stay here until she completes her mandatory exercise.”
Are you goading them against me? Spring said nothing, but noticed the faces of the surrounding youths turn sour. The extra hour and a half meant they would stay in the scalding midday sun, cooked in the forty-odd degrees.
“Miss Searing, you will start with fifty pushups, fifty pull-ups, and five hundred squats, then you may move onto rock lifting.”
Sweat is a problem. Luckily, second-face has all the glands in place, but my dress has become see-through, and the men are looking at the outlines of my white underwear.
Spring grit her teeth. Despite still wearing her veil, she emulated the wide range of human gestures, painting a congruent image. Her face and ears burned from embarrassment and indignation, while her gaze harbored icy rage and determination not to buckle before this humiliating trial.
“Miss Searing, I shall repeat some of the most important matters we have discussed before you joined us. For more details, you may address your classmates.” Old hag Wartorn confirmed Mira’s guess. Spring would get three crystal coins charged with initial-red mana, if she could advance her mana core by a stage before the end of the first month of school, her allowance would increase to one early-red carmine crystal coin, if she advanced it by two stages, her allowance would become a mid-red vermilion.
Considering first level hunters received three peak-red ginger-colored crystal coin a month, a student who grew from initial to mid stage in four weeks would earn a hefty sum. However, even with proper funding, advancing twice during one month was difficult, and middle-class hunter families could rarely spare so many crystal coins on their children.
After a month, the school would grant the budding hunters their first grafts for free. The students could choose between flame-flower and barkskin. Under the blazing sun, sweat poured off Spring’s face, dripping on the hot stones, the wet spots shrinking and drying in moments.
I’m so glad I drank during my shower this morning, second-face is drawing my water like crazy.
The instructor explained about the monthly hunt simulations, which would take place in the weald outside the outer wall. Sky listened and memorized everything, focusing on her breathing, emulating a struggle for breath.
Finally, her punishment ended, and even the disabled hunter talking on and on seemed delirious.
“Let’s go to the classroom,” Wartorn said and led the group into the large stone building.
