Having finished the “Seven Pillars” series of movies, Det and the others had completely crashed out the night before, only to awaken and fall into the same routine of silently eating breakfast together before heading out. They even got halfway to the arena before a very important question got asked.

  “Aren’t we supposed to be going to the class buildings for our lessons today?” Weiss asked, like he was half remembering something from a dream the night before.

  “Oh… oh shit!” Sage said. “Weiss is right. We’re not getting murdered…”

  “Attempted murdered,” Calisco corrected.

  “… today,” Sage continued, his words only stumbling a little. “We’ve got actual classes today. Based on… our classes. The buildings for those are all in the opposite direction!”

  “Same start time?” Det asked, looking up at a nearby clock. The group had taken to being just on-time when it came to getting to the arena of fun and torture. That meant they’d been walking slowly, with the clock currently reading seven-fifty-three.

  Sure is convenient Elestar has the same day-night cycle as Earth, Det thought, not for the first time.

  “Yes!” Sage said, loud enough a few other groups of cadets who’d made the same mistake they had jumped and looked in their direction. “Lessons are in the class buildings! On the opposite side of campus.”

  Det could practically hear the seconds ticking by on the nearby clock as the meaning of the words really settled on the shoulders of everybody on the street. Then, all at once, with the minute hand turning to seven-fifty-four, it hit them.

  And then they were running.

  Nearly two-dozen ReSouled, sprinting down the street as fast as their superhuman bodies would let them move, a trail of dust kicking up behind them. As they went, a few other dazed and sleepy cadets saw them pass, the strange scene enough to shock them into their own realizations. Soon enough, it was like something out of a one of the “Seven Pillars” movies, with the crowd blowing past all reasonable speed limits, the short tails of their jackets snapping as they sprinted.

  Down the street, past shops, around children playing, and even vaulting a cart crossing an intersection, it was just zany enough, Det had to wonder if he was still dreaming.

  “When we get there,” Sage managed to shout over the pounding of feet on the stone road, loud enough for the whole crowd to hear him. “Bulwarks are in the big grey building with the shield on it. Duelists, you guys are in the pink building—I’m sorry—with the crossed swords. Vanguards, green with the tree branch that looks like it should be rated R. Medics, red building with the hand giving you the middle finger. Ask your instructor, it’s a good story. Artillery, orange with the cannon. Don’t get that mixed up with red! The Medics hate that… which is really just the story about the emblem.

  “Arsenals, you’re with me. White building with the pair of dice on it.”

  By the time Sage finished the lengthy explanation, the cluster of buildings had just come into view. The sight spurred the sprinting group on to find a deeper reserve of speed and motivation. Or, maybe it was just Beast standing in front of the gate, looking at her wrist like she was just waiting for the last second to tick down and make them late.

  Ignoring the woman even as she was beginning to shift into her monstrous form, Det and his group were past her, then splitting and rushing for the buildings Sage had explained. Behind him, a pair of panicked screams indicated at least two people hadn’t cleared the gate on time. The deep, bestial laugh made it clear the pair weren’t in for a pleasant morning.

  Det, Sage, and Eriba were inside their building in the next breath, with Sage leading them around a corner and into the nearest classroom. Luckily, it looked like where they should be, with Beauty standing at the front. Above him, the clock showed eight-o’clock and four seconds.

  “Well, look who decided to show up,” a cadet in the front row said. The same cadet who’d been with Granite during the lunch incident on the first day of training. His baby-face twisted in a disgusted expression like his mashed pears had a pit in them. Clearly, his opinion of Det and the others had only gotten worse.

  “If you made it past Beast, that’s good enough for me,” Beauty said, hearing the comment along with everybody else in the room, before gesturing to the spacious desks arrayed in front of him.

  Three of which were noticeably vacant, and as soon as Det spotted the neat line of ink bottles, the stack of parchment, and the brushes, he knew which one was his. If the supplies were there, that could only mean one thing. They were going to learn about their magic.

  “Thanks for getting us here,” Det whispered to Sage as they parted to sit at their desks, though they didn’t have to go far from each other. Eriba was on Det’s right, and Sage was just beyond her.

  Besides the three of them, there were seventeen others sitting at the generously spaced desks. That brought the number to a nice, even…

  “Twenty,” Beauty said, as if he’d counted right alongside Det. “Ten percent of the total ReSouled population for this cycle. One of our largest groups of Arsenal’s in a long time. The largest, in fact.”

  “Only ten percent is a lot?” one of the cadets near the front said.

  “Yes, Cadet Oligy,” Beauty said. “Previously, our largest class had seventeen in it. That was the cycle Beast and I joined.

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  “Ten percent feels like it’s not very many,” Oligy said. “I thought we were the catch-all class, and that we’d be the biggest one.”

  “That’s an excellent question to segue into how we will start today’s lesson,” Beauty said. “And, yes, we’re actually having a lesson today. This isn’t a trick to get you to lower your guard just long enough for us to unveil another new way to try and kill you.”

  Beauty smiled.

  “Or is it?”

  The words hit like a slap, and every cadet in the room absolutely froze. Or, maybe braced was a better way to describe it. Where would it come from? The seat? The desk? Ceiling? Floor? Was it another gas? Was the whole room an illusion? Were they…?

  “You can stop panicking,” Beauty said. “There are no traps in the room. Today.”

  Det glared at the man and the implication.

  “As for Cadet’s Oligy’s question,” Beauty continued, unbothered by the dirty looks bombarding him from all angles. “The largest group of ReSouled most cycles is the Duelist class. We often group them together with Artilleries when we count, with the two groups amounting to almost half our total. This year, their numbers are a bit on the lower side, with only forty’ish of each. Bulwarks and Medics come in equal amounts, with thirty to thirty-five of them every cycle. After that, those are our Vanguards, who had the second smallest group size. This year, they number an impressive thirty.

  “That is also a record for them. Finally, we have Arsenals, who range anywhere from five to, well, now twenty new members in a given cycle.

  “As for your comment on us being a catch-all class, that’s not quite accurate. We possess abilities that aren’t as easily classifiable as the other five. We are not the front-liners, designed by our ReSouled nature to soak damage and protect our allies. The sole purpose of our magic isn’t to wield a weapon, though it may assist us in doing so. We are not pure healers, even though the flexibility of our power could assist a comrade with recovering from a wound, or boosting their stamina.

  “Instead, for those of you who were gamers in your past life, we are the bards. The jack of all trades, but the masters of none. While some of us will possess impressive firepower, we will likely never match a member of the Artillery with a similar Rank. Or, if we do, there is some ‘catch’ to it. A limit or requirement that is needed to meet that potential.

  “My instructor, when I sat where you are now, went by the name of Daystar. As you can guess, he had sun-related powers. During the day, he could do all sorts of things, from illusions, to armoring himself, to even hurling beams of cutting light. At high noon, with the sun at its peak, he could unleash his most powerful magic, including a beam from the sun itself.

  “While not technically from the sun, the magic made it look that way, and it was easily as powerful as our top Artillery’s best attack. The catch was, of course, that Daystar only had a one-minute window each day where he could actually use the ability. Thirty seconds before or after noon, precisely, restricted him from using that magic more widely.”

  “What did he do at night?” another cadet asked.

  “He slept,” Beauty said, face straight, like it was an absolutely obvious answer.

  As for the cadet who asked the question, his mouth kind of just opened and closed, no words coming out.

  Beauty had mercy on him, finally answering the question the woman had asked him. “With his magic entirely missing when the sun wasn’t up, Daystar very rarely took to the field other than in emergencies during that time. Unfortunately for him, an intelligent Cored figured out his weakness, and staged a nighttime raid that killed him.”

  “Are we going to learn more about the Cored and Uncored?” Det asked.

  “Yes, but not today,” Beauty said. “No, today is more about your magic. After twenty years as a ReSouled, I am sure most of you have had at least some practice with what it can do. For the two of you who haven’t,” Beauty paused, looking in the direction of Sage and Eriba. “Our artificer corps—many of whom are Arsenals like us—have prepared two very special selections for each of you.

  “Before that, for all of you that have requirements for your magic, supplies have been placed on or in your workstations. Any time we have class-based lessons in this room, those workspaces will be yours. Given we are all adults—some of us twice over—I shouldn’t have to remind everybody to respect each other’s spaces, but I will do it anyway. Playing with magic can quite literally be dangerous, and we don’t need to make it any worse with pranks.”

  After the “training” the previous six days, where the instructors were more than happy to beat and nearly kill the cadets over and over, the thought of punishment was a strange one. On one hand, how could it be worse?

  On the other hand, how could it be worse?

  More than one shudder went down a cadet’s spine in that second, but none spoke.

  “Good, I’m glad we’ve got that settled,” Beauty continued. “Now, for you two, Cadets SJ and Eriba…” it was strange to hear Sage’s normal name, “… your supplies are a little more unique. The artificers have prepared custom-made equipment, tirelessly crafted within their workshops, that should allow your magic to work on them. I will require, however, that those supplies do not leave this room. I have been asked to audit the inventory both before and after a class.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that the artificers don’t trust anybody,” Beauty explained. “Finally, for the rest of you, as difficult as it may be, you should not ask questions about the strange things you may see within those sealed boxes. Once again, the artificers are very protective of their secrets until you’ve gotten a more formal introduction to their practices. In second year.”

  Those final three words came with a pointed look at Det, Sage, and Eriba. The meaning behind it didn’t take any significant guesswork. There were Wordless components, or at least something related to them, within the boxes on the two desks.

  “Artificers?” a cadet behind Det on his left said quietly to a neighbor. “Aren’t they the ones who make the mistships?”

  “I think so?” the neighbor said. “Do they have small mistships to play with? Like RC cars?”

  “Why would they need those for their magic? And, why don’t I get one? I loved those as a kid.”

  The second cadet just shrugged.

  “You’re just making us more curious by throwing all those rules out there, teach,” another cadet said louder, this one with bouncy, blond curls that made Det wonder if she was related to Simmons.

  No, never mind. They aren’t perfect enough. Cheap imitation.

  “What happens if we ask a question?” the girl continued.

  “Cadet Trium,” Beauty said. “Should you wish to ask questions, you are welcome to. Beast will be the best one to… answer them.”

  As if on cue, the aforementioned, still in her massive, six-armed werewolf form, ReSouled ducked into the classroom through the door. With her head almost reaching the ceiling—despite her crouching and walking with her knuckles pressed against the floor like a gorilla—she moved over to loom in front of Trium.

  “You have a question?” Beast asked, leaning even closer. With a maw big enough it could swallow half of Trium in one bite, and teeth like daggers, the girl sat frozen with fingers tangled in her curls where she’d been twirling them. “Well?” Beast pressed when the cadet didn’t respond.

  “No… no question,” Trium finally gulped out.

  “Good,” Beast said, transitioning back to her normal size within a heartbeat. “I’m not in the mood to answer questions.”

  “You never are,” Beauty said.

  “Exactly,” Beast said, the word sharp like a knife as she looked at the group of cadets.

  “Now, with that out of the way,” Beauty said, ignoring the class full of deer caught in the eyes of the small, too-beautiful predator stalking to his side at the front of the room. “Let’s learn about magic.”