Chapter 5: Chapter 4

I got back with enough time to wash and get a solid six hours of sleep before dragging myself out of bed at the totally acceptable time of three. It got dark around seven and with the little artificial lighting here, almost everyone was asleep before nine thirty. Similarly, it was pitch black when I closed and locked the door to my loft. Sunrise would be around six, but the earliest classes only started around eight- and I’d learn if I had any of those when I got my schedule after tomorrow's speeches and opening ceremonies. 

 

Somehow, I wasn’t the roughest looking newbie when I arrived at the Courier Service’s headquarters. I got there a little early, and was checked in by one of the managers and directed to a small office up a floor from the entrance. When I opened the door I was met with the bleary looks of five other first years and an only slightly more energetic “Hello, please take a seat anywhere” from what I assumed was our mentor. I got a few weird looks for my cloak, but that was mostly due to wearing the hood still- almost everyone had on either around their shoulders or the chair they were sitting in. 

 

A small bell from somewhere in the building signaled it was four- though none of the city’s clock towers mimicked it- and our instructor sighed, stood up, and said “Hello everyone. I know it's way too early to be dealing with this, but you’ll have to. If you're a sociopath like some of our later-years, you may even come to like it. Let's start with introductions.” 

 

After taking a short break to straighten his shirt, he continued, “My name is William, it’s my second year here. I’m sure like many of you I choose this job because of the short hours. Uhh, let's continue to the right.”

 

At this signal a surprisingly tall dwarf girl- by which I mean a little over 150cm- looked around before following suit with a quick “I’m Quartz.” before gesturing to their side. Similar greetings of various energy levels were given from mostly humans and an elf, including mine, before the order reached the last and weirdest member of our miserable group. What made them odd wasn’t that they were an uncommon race, age, or completion. What was odd was that they were totally awake, straight-backed, and wearing a higher-quality reproduction of the academy uniforms- common among the local upper aristocracy.

 

His greeting was similarly odd in its refinement. “Greetings, I am Julious Von Aberten. I am pleased to make your acquiesce. I hope that we can all come to respect each other in the coming year.” Like how his family was reported to look, he was quite tall and clearly muscular. Following recent trends, he had short hair and no facial hair to speak of. Lastly, when he met my eyes while nodding to each of us, there was a brief look of confusion before moving on- after which I remembered I had some distinctive features of another rich family who would definitely not work in such a club.

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While everyone knew from his looks that he was rich enough to not need to work an academy job, the fact he was from the second richest family around surprised everyone. Most of the rich kids tended to work in the more political side of the clubs or simply didn’t join any.

 

With that over, William led us on a tour of the facility, pointing out important parts and giving tips on how to best get your work done. This culminated in the ‘Outgoing’ room where all the letters and packages that needed to be delivered were kept. 

 

“Here we are at where y’all’ll be spending most of your time while in this building,” our guide started, “Each route has its own bag and clipboard. Contrary to what some of you might have assumed, routes are  first-come-first-serve- somethin’ about encouraging performance by competition. At each station you’ll find a clipboard with the route-map and a list of addresses to get to along it, and a space-compression bag full of said packages- don’t try to steal it, we’ll know.” While bags like these weren’t uncommon, having what must be thirty of them in one space certainly was. 

 

“When you get here, grab a bag, follow the route, and get back here where you can turn in your clipboard to the desk over there and get your pay for the day. I guess if you prefer, you can have it put on credit- doesn’t matter much as if you miss too many days without an excuse, you face expulsion. Would really makes you think we were fancy slaves if it wasn’t for the pay rate. Anyways, maybe see you here tomorrow, first days are rough so be ready,” William ended before simply walking out one of the doors and up what looked like an invisible staircase, leaving the rest of us standing there.

 

The dwarf Quartz was the first to act, loudly proclaiming “I regret this already, hope to not see you later,” before leaving. Everyone else was a bit more polite in their resigned acceptance of our collective fate- with a few even suggesting a trip to a cafe when those opened in an hour or so.

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