Beneath the Dragoneye Moons
The Summer Solstice. Graduation.
I’d spent the remaining few weeks primarily working on [Reflexes], with some added work in [Talaria] and [Sun-kissed]. A few other skills got some levels, notably [Oath] got one and [Vigilant] liked the [Reflexes] training. I could see how the two were closely related. [Vigilant] would warn me of a problem, and [Reflexes] made it easier to do something about the problem. [Center of the Galaxy] was also surprisingly synergistic with it, removing the startle, letting me move immediately.
Yesterday had been an easy day – there was running in the morning, and that was it. I didn’t even have my talk with Night, with the idea being that we’d get a good night’s sleep.
I didn’t sleep a wink. I don’t think anyone else did either.
Out of sheer habit, we assembled in the courtyard on the 4th gong, as we’d been doing for over a year and a half. It was like the Instructors knew what we’d do – or more likely, had decades of experience with other Trainees doing this – and there was a set of armor for each of us, waiting and ready, with our names pinned on it.
My familiar set was there, and almost shaking, I put it on.
I wasn’t the only one with a serious case of the nerves, and we moved through, helping each other get the armor on, finding out today if we’d get the Ranger Eagle to go with it, or if we weren’t selected to be a Ranger.
The choices were varied for those of us not selected. Repeating Academy, which had all sorts of benefits – you’d get an entirely new set of lessons to take, combat and sparring lessons to help boost your level. Becoming a guard, soldier, or mercenary of some sort, ‘passed Academy but didn’t get selected’ was a solid, solid recommendation.
Of course, becoming an adventurer was also on the menu, but I didn’t think anyone would stoop that low. We were all better than that. We had standards.
On occasion, people who failed out would strike out on their own, open a business, or discovered a love of sailing while at Academy, and became a sailor, a captain, or, famously, one became a pirate.
Also known as “how to get a Sentinel sent after you.”
They did not look kindly on almost-graduates turning to a life of crime. Reflected badly on all of us.
I suspected that the primary test was an aptitude one, a test of character, one last way for the Instructors – and Command – to cut people they found unsuited, or who’d failed their classes. For example, I was betting that Spitter would fail. He consistently failed to follow orders properly, and had never stopped spraying deadly acid into people’s faces when sparring. He was my number one problem when I was on sparring overwatch, and he always had some sort of shit excuse for it.
I would never voice that out loud, nor would I make bets on it. It would be in poor taste, and saying “I don’t think Bob will make it” would be one of the only ways to shake, if not break, the bond between us all.
I kinda wanted one of my own. So soft!
Once Wolfy was fully geared up and ready, and MoonMoon was positively shining, we pounced.
“Alright Wolfy, give up the goods. What are the numbers?”
“What makes you think I know!” He protested.
We looked at each other.
“That’s not a denial.” I said, taking charge.
He grumbled to himself.
“98 Rangers down. 112 Trainees graduating – well, including you Elaine. Unknown how many Rangers will formally or semi-formally retire, but it’s usually two to four. That includes anyone who asks to be permanently promoted to Team 0. My guess? 10 of us don’t make it.” Wolfy said, spilling the goods.
The sun came up, bright and shining, promising a day of clear skies and beautiful weather, finding us all ready. Ocean was back, and a single ship was waiting for us. We lined up to file onboard. I was in the front – again, rank having its privilege. Some of the Trainees, like Lava, kinda resented it, but having survived almost an entire round had given me a layer of respect. The other Instructors treating me as a Ranger had gone a long way to boot, and making it to graduation should, at least, give Julius a clear.
Almost everyone could sail – myself and a few other Trainees excluded – and while we could do it ourselves, this was our moment. We were being escorted.
Night had asked me the other day to put my remaining free points into my Power and Control, and while I hadn’t gotten a great reason why, I wasn’t about to argue.
Chapter 126: Graduation
I’d spent the remaining few weeks primarily working on [Reflexes], with some added work in [Talaria] and [Sun-kissed]. A few other skills got some levels, notably [Oath] got one and [Vigilant] liked the [Reflexes] training. I could see how the two were closely related. [Vigilant] would warn me of a problem, and [Reflexes] made it easier to do something about the problem. [Center of the Galaxy] was also surprisingly synergistic with it, removing the startle, letting me move immediately.
Yesterday had been an easy day – there was running in the morning, and that was it. I didn’t even have my talk with Night, with the idea being that we’d get a good night’s sleep.
I didn’t sleep a wink. I don’t think anyone else did either.
Out of sheer habit, we assembled in the courtyard on the 4th gong, as we’d been doing for over a year and a half. It was like the Instructors knew what we’d do – or more likely, had decades of experience with other Trainees doing this – and there was a set of armor for each of us, waiting and ready, with our names pinned on it.
My familiar set was there, and almost shaking, I put it on.
I wasn’t the only one with a serious case of the nerves, and we moved through, helping each other get the armor on, finding out today if we’d get the Ranger Eagle to go with it, or if we weren’t selected to be a Ranger.
The choices were varied for those of us not selected. Repeating Academy, which had all sorts of benefits – you’d get an entirely new set of lessons to take, combat and sparring lessons to help boost your level. Becoming a guard, soldier, or mercenary of some sort, ‘passed Academy but didn’t get selected’ was a solid, solid recommendation.
Of course, becoming an adventurer was also on the menu, but I didn’t think anyone would stoop that low. We were all better than that. We had standards.
On occasion, people who failed out would strike out on their own, open a business, or discovered a love of sailing while at Academy, and became a sailor, a captain, or, famously, one became a pirate.
Also known as “how to get a Sentinel sent after you.”
They did not look kindly on almost-graduates turning to a life of crime. Reflected badly on all of us.
I suspected that the primary test was an aptitude one, a test of character, one last way for the Instructors – and Command – to cut people they found unsuited, or who’d failed their classes. For example, I was betting that Spitter would fail. He consistently failed to follow orders properly, and had never stopped spraying deadly acid into people’s faces when sparring. He was my number one problem when I was on sparring overwatch, and he always had some sort of shit excuse for it.
I would never voice that out loud, nor would I make bets on it. It would be in poor taste, and saying “I don’t think Bob will make it” would be one of the only ways to shake, if not break, the bond between us all.
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Wolfy showed up, and we helped him get ready. I was grooming Moon, making his fur coat look positively luxurious.I kinda wanted one of my own. So soft!
Once Wolfy was fully geared up and ready, and MoonMoon was positively shining, we pounced.
“Alright Wolfy, give up the goods. What are the numbers?”
“What makes you think I know!” He protested.
We looked at each other.
He grumbled to himself.
“98 Rangers down. 112 Trainees graduating – well, including you Elaine. Unknown how many Rangers will formally or semi-formally retire, but it’s usually two to four. That includes anyone who asks to be permanently promoted to Team 0. My guess? 10 of us don’t make it.” Wolfy said, spilling the goods.
The sun came up, bright and shining, promising a day of clear skies and beautiful weather, finding us all ready. Ocean was back, and a single ship was waiting for us. We lined up to file onboard. I was in the front – again, rank having its privilege. Some of the Trainees, like Lava, kinda resented it, but having survived almost an entire round had given me a layer of respect. The other Instructors treating me as a Ranger had gone a long way to boot, and making it to graduation should, at least, give Julius a clear.
Almost everyone could sail – myself and a few other Trainees excluded – and while we could do it ourselves, this was our moment. We were being escorted.
Night had asked me the other day to put my remaining free points into my Power and Control, and while I hadn’t gotten a great reason why, I wasn’t about to argue.
Stats |
[Free Stats: 8] |
[Strength: 236] |
[Dexterity: 203] |
[Vitality: 560] |
[Speed: 480] |
[Mana: 5040] |
[Mana Regeneration: 5092 (+1435.944)] |
[Magic Power: 4636 (+46591.8)] |
[Magic Control: 4636 (+46591.8)] |
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