Chương 65: Irresistible

Now I'm looking for it everywhere. I head to my next class, Developing Theories, and I'm scanning everyone with the augmented overlay to see who's got a status in the game. I'm checking everyone to see who's a pawn, who's a love interest, antagonist, protagonist, quest-giver, whatever. I walk through the hallways staring around to see who's going to have a display appear only for me. A whole new array of love interests and romance options. Not for Nathan, for me.

This was not present in the original game because Natalie was not present in the original game. This is the world structure bending around me. How much of this was planned in advance? Did the goddess set all this up as soon as she pried my soul loose from Nathan's and forged me a new body? Has she had these plans in motion for fifteen years? Or, is she still watching all this, giggling to herself, and reaching in to make mischief out of my life just because she can?

It feels egotistical to think she's still watching me with the intention of fucking with me. It defies my belief. But then, it also seems egotistical that she would plan all this out fifteen years ago and set it up for my sake. That also defies belief. But clearly something has happened. Add it to the Big List of Things To Worry About Later. It's a damn big list. I made it to the science building with only a couple of blips. At long range I briefly spotted Curigi, Nathan's first crush, the Intriguing Foreigner.

And walking the opposite direction in a crowd, I saw Professor Ryichsur, which made sense because this was the natural philosophy building and he was a professor- Wait. I craned around, and looked at the status display over him. Love Interest. Antagonist. The Professor. Ew. The game wants to set me up with a teacher?! Like, "Don't Stand So Close To Me" by the Police? Why? The original game does not have a cougar route for Nathan, none of the teachers are romanceable, and people have tried.

Hell, my math teacher, Ms Allebasi? Stone. cold. fox. So why is it offering me a teacher? That's discrimination. Sexism in action. I'm so mad about this. Oh. Oh god. That conversation at the dining hall, about him admiring me and building his career on my work. There is no way I can go back to his class now that I know this. I shuddered and ran for the basement, to take refuge in high science. Today was another bring-us-up-to-speed day down there, everyone showing me the work they were doing, innovations galore.

One of the more ambitious scientists was planning to power an electrical grid with wires connected to lightning rods so that one wizard can channel a lightning storm and power a city. I gently suggested that we would need much better capacitors before that was feasible. Someone made a note to work on better capacitors. Someone else was referencing using lenses to focus light so that scriveners can scribe their sigils at range. Perhaps at distant buildings or something.

I frankly don't know enough about scrivening to know if that would work. Fascinating concept, keep at it. There was plenty of bullshit ideas that had no chance. Extracting electricity from something to cool it down, sorry but thermodynamics does not agree with that. Selectively breeding giant pigs to make more pork. Sorry, if pigs get much bigger and smarter they'll be farming us not the other way around. Electrifying people to make them immortal! For the last time, that's not ever going to work.

There was also a worrying lack of love interests here. Oh, not that I wanted one, quite the opposite, but the fact that one was not being pushed at me had me wary. It's like having a hornet in the room: you'd rather know where it is, if it's gonna be there. There was nobody in this crowd of fanatics, shut-ins and know-it-alls that I would want as a romance option, most of them looked way too much like cartoon caricatures of Albert Einstein.

Ryichsur was an awkward and socially maladjusted man, but he took all the charisma with him when he graduated out of this group. All of which had me waiting for another shoe to drop. Some of my connections showed themselves on Oneday, some today. I may be moving at a more modulated pace than Nathan. Then again, I'm dealing with a lot more than he is. After all, I'm not only running my own story here, I'm taking an active role in his, as well. Dammit Lady Hanje. You are too right about all the worst things!

After my Mad Science class I stopped for a bite to eat at the dining hall, and then over to my music class. So far so good, all is quiet. Right? Right. And then thirty seconds later, right as we're about to start roll call: "Oh, and class, we've just had a transfer from the other music program. I want all of you to be on your best and least intrusive behavior for our new student, Enefiat Trazom!" And then He Himself swaggered through the door. World-famous cello prodigy, easily the most gifted musician of our time.

Scouted by the Eyellon house from an early age. Trained with all the best of the best, and outpaced them all with pure talent. Sold out all the biggest concert halls, lauded by all the richest dukes. He's played at my parent's anniversary dinner twice. [Enefiat Trazom][Love Interest][Antagonist][The Famous] I'm not sure you can use "the famous" as a noun like that, right? But here he is, and I guess there's nothing to do but see this thing through. I conjured my flute and took my place.

Third chair, but I think with practice I can make second chair. Or i could spend my saved skill point for my music skill. The whole room was electric as he posed at the front of the room, basking in the tacit adoration that surrounded him at all times. All around me, young men and young women stared in disbelief as the most famous player in the kingdom walked among them, and was prepared to play as part of our arrangement.

Oh right, Yheta mentioned a rumor that this guy had insisted on transferring out of the other class. Something about the scheduled program. Artistic temperament. I guess different teachers taught different pieces. Our little orchestra here in this class was no big deal, we were okay. This was not the highlight reel or the blooper reel, we were comfortably in the middle.

Now, Hearstcliff Academy did not really have any elective classes at the basic level, if you were in a music class here it was expected that you were already pretty good. And I'm not bad- I've sat third chair for professional orchestras, and I'm third chair here too. Out of five, mind you. Don't think I'm hyping myself as third out of three. I'm good, but the world has a lot of really good flute players. It's a tough field! What I'm getting at is that none of us are in his league.

Nobody anywhere is in his league but we're not even all that close to his league.

"And a one and a two and-" We practiced. We played. I was really sympathetic to our other cello players, who couldn't do much except try to play very quietly so that everyone could hear him without them getting in the way. To a degree all of us were doing the same: he was so good it felt disrespectful to be playing at the same time as him. I maybe felt less self-conscious than most. I've snuck him cookies from the kitchen before. To be fair, we sounded a lot better with him.

And, he probably needed practice working with people that were so much worse than him. So, it's not like this was actually counter productive, right? We kept at it for a time, and eventually time was up. Dong. Dong. Ding. Ding. Ding. I dispelled my flute and stood, and He Himself was right there in front of me.

"You look familiar," he told me.

"Yes," I said.

"Six years ago, Meadowtam." He looked confused.

"Maybe?... but-""I had red hair at the time," I reminded him.

"Ah yes!" he snapped his fingers excitedly.

"I never forget a snickerdoodle!"

"That's the one," I chuckled.

"Hertyce really outdid herself that year. But how did you possibly recognize me? It's been six years, I've changed so much!" He shook his head.

"You've not changed a bit. You release just a little early on every quarter-note and your breath comes in just a little steep. It's charming, like you're leaning into the instrument." There was a room full of people staring at us. He did not seem to notice because he was used to people staring at him for reasons of respect and admiration, but I've come to avoid standing still if I'm the center of attention.

"Care to walk with me?" I said.

"You have physical training next?" He nodded and walked with me, while behind us the music teacher was reverently packing away Trazom's cello and bow like they were religious relics.

"I do," he said.

"My mother insists that I learn fencing, she seems to believe I'll be called on frequently to defend my honor in the next few years."

"Why would she think that?" I asked, steering us through the halls towards the entrance. He rolled his eyes.

"Fan mail. I'm starting to get death threats mixed in, 'stay away from so-and-so if you know what's good for you', and it's always someone I'm not sure I've ever met or has been aggressively hounding me for years." I smirked.

"Must be hard being so irresistible." The thing was, he's actually pretty handsome. There's something in the centerline of his face, forehead, nose, eyes, lips, that just scans with a very self-possessed dignity. He looks like he always knows exactly where he's going. It's a good look and it suits him well. His blue hair is always slicked straight back, and he can put on or take off a coat with an amazing amount of nonchalant flair.

He never appeared in the main game, and I'd have thought he was just background if he had not wound up in my class. I was surprised to see him here.

"Hardly irresistible," he said with a small, negligent shrug.

"It just seems that few people make the effort to resist me, all the same. You don't have any of those cookies here, do you? Speaking of irresistible?"

"I do not," I admitted.

"I haven't seen Hertyce in years, and I'm not welcome back in that kitchen." He was surprised by this. The door opened ahead of us and we emerged into the starlight.

"Really? Why is that?"

"I killed a bunch of people," I said with a flat unapologetic tone. He considered that for a minute.

"I'm not sure I believe it. Your playing isn't that bad." And goddamn if that wasn't the best laugh I had all day. Fine, game, you can leave this one as a love interest. I was still chatting with Trazom when we crossed over to the athletic fields. And spotted another familiar face. I scanned, and was only slightly surprised by what I found there. [Sepecca "Thumper" Kuritan][Love Interest][Antagonist][The Access] Okay, now that actually had me a little confused.

She's the captain of the fencing team, or she will be soon. She's not "the fencer" or "the captain" or "the swordswoman" or something? Access? What even does that mean?

"Evening captain," I called out to her.

"Just bringing one of your soldiers in. Later, Trazom." Thumper nodded at the musician as he walked past.

"Trazom. You're the musician?" I laughed.

"Well put. He's the musician. Trazom, pay attention to Thumper, she's gonna keep the jealous husbands from killing you." Thumper nodded firmly.

"By the time I'm done here? Guarantee it." He headed inside to get dressed, while Thumper and I kind of loitered outside. I was glad to see she got the tag. How many others had I missed? Just because I didn't think to look?

"I've advanced every round of the tournament so far," she said.

"Got some strong competition here, from the first-years and the third-years alike. But just like you said, I really think I can make captain." I patted her shoulder.

"I'm very confident. So confident I won't even give you any good advice for how to defeat the Atland girl."

"Clash?" Thumper said, grinning eagerly.

"Oh, I've been watching her. She's good. Probably the best competition here! Looks like I won't spar against her until the last round, unfortunately. That'll be tomorrow, if everything works out." I paused, and wondered if I should ask.

"Whatever it is you're thinking about, just say it," she said. Well goddammit.

"Is my brother taking fencing?" I asked, and kinda hated myself for it. She blinked.

"Yeah? I thought you knew. You guys don't talk?"

"Only about really devastating emotional revelations," I said, shrugging.

"It's kind of our thing. Every time we're within speaking distance everything gets really heavy really fast."

"Really? Weird," she said.

"Anyway, he's hanging out with that Atland chick, sure. They seem to get along okay. Is it gonna make things strange between you and your bro if I trounce her tomorrow?"

"That ship has sailed. Kick her ass."

"Trust," Thumper said, and winked at me. Fist bump, and she headed in to her her locker room to get changed. I teleported the rest of the way to my locker room because I was running very late. Like, protagonist late. I curved fabrics to get undressed faster and dressed faster yet, and I did not care which of my teammates was staring at the blinding lights or the flying fabrics. By now everyone knows I'm a mage and if they don't they're gonna figure out fast.

I don't wanna get yelled at by the coach, so I'm making sure I'm not the last and latest out of the locker room. I grabbed my helmet and jogged out to the field. Today was our first day with the sliotar, or "ball" for any sport but this. The coach was opening up a huge canvas sack and dumping out all the hurleys for us to choose from.

"Pick something comfortable to you," she barked out.

"Almost every one of you is going to grab something too big for you to handle. It's basically universal to being a teen-aged girl, so I won't hold it against ya. But get started, try some swings. Sizes are marked, when you find one that is the right size on ya, mark that number so you can get another when you need. Don't get attached, I'll expect every one of you to go through two or ten of these before the year's out."

Marking her words, I deliberately tried to avoid that common mistake, and picked up a paddle that I felt was maybe a size too small for me. I gave it some swings, balancing it against the length of my arms, swapping hands, trying some different grips. The coach paused next to me, just out of my swing.

"Try something an inch shorter," she advised, gesturing back at the well-rummaged pile. Plenty of other hands have been there picking up and discarding. I sorted through to find one marked appropriately and, goddammit, she was right. The balance was much better. I was trying to swing the thing like a baseball bat instead of a tennis racket. It's not either of those things, it's a hurley paddle, but it's closer to the racket than the bat.

After a lot of running she had us do scoring and passing drills, to see who's got the eyes and the hands to put into scoring positions. I did okay, but not much more than okay. I was okay with that though. I did not need to be team captain or high-scoring MVP, I was here for training. The game's stat-advancement system is pretty unforgiving- you can build some stats over time by just practicing stuff in general. That's how I got my intellect and stamina as high as they are.

The game will show you the XP you need to get to the next level but ability training is more obscured- some hidden Ability Point calculation that never shows itself on-screen but will eventually give you the next point of an attribute. Three years of push-ups, sit-ups, running and reading had given me about one point each in Strength, Stamina and Intellect. But in a formal practice setting in class, that calculation gets a lot more friendly.

I could gain two points of Strength and Stamina per year just from practicing sports! Though, as I said, there's a downside. I stood in front of the field, hesitating. There was a status screen hanging in front of me, over the on-sides marker for the pitch. [Strength 10][Damage 1: 1] -and what that means is that if I have a Strength score less than ten, I'm gonna get hurt. At a one-to-one rate. With my Strength of 7, that means 3 HP damage. This is what I get for pursuing high-value training.

"Fuck contact sports," I grumbled, but I ran out onto the pitch. Let's do this. After about ten minutes of shot training, the coach sent me over to work on clash. She did not look impressed with my work so far. And I could not fault her for that, without using my sorcery my Strength rating is just a 4. I'm not the shortest, or the skinniest, or the weakest girl out on this pitch, but I'm not outside the bottom ten-percent either. My clash partner though was definitely top ten percent.

She was about the same size as Thumper, and had an ornery look to her that she turned on me fast.

"You're that princess, aren't ya?" she said.

"No crowns here, just helmets," I said. We started with rope drills because it was early, she lined up on one side of the line and I was on the other. There were a line of sliotars all strung on a rope, and the idea is that we run down the line, and each hit the sliotar at the same time so it doesn't move. It's a blocking drill, fairly elementary. But it thrives on timing.

"You're slow!" my teammate snarled.

"Get it together Princess!"

"It's a technique drill not a sprint!" I snarled back.

"Slow!" she retorted. The line was jumping back and forth, making it hard for both of us to keep our positions as we ran down the yards, trying to get the timing right. She hit first and I hit next, the sliotar jumped my direction then hers, the rope following. Three steps and swing the hurley down again, trying to correct the position, but it was not working. We reached the end of the line and turned, working right hand and left hand equally.

"You're slow!" she repeated.

"Match me!"

"Drop a step!" I yelled back.

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck me?!" she growled, and the hurley caught me in the leg, knocked me sprawling. A whistle blew.

"Egnul! Harigold! What happened?"

"She ran in my lane, coach!" the other girl yelled back, pointing at me. Clearly false. She bashed me for cussing her. I wasn't a snitch though. And, I had signed up for this. I knew that today's training was going to do damage to me. Guess I gotta take my lumps if I'm gonna get the results. Pain = Gain, after all.

"Back at it! Careful!" the coach yelled out. We worked the line back and forth, I tried to lunge ahead and match her timing, to get the clash and keep the line still, but she she stepped up to stay ahead of me. The line jerked my way and then then hers, as she hit first and then me. And I had to follow the line to the next sliotar, which was jumping in her direction. Crack! And I went down again, clutching my leg.

"You're slow, princess," Engul sneered.

"Egnul! Why is she down again!" the coach yelled.

"She keeps running into my lane coach!" It was a long day of practice.