“I regret waking up,” I grouse.
My bed—my super comfortable, ultra-soft, perfectly warm bed—is calling to me.
I can practically hear it.
My back and neck ache for its fluffy embrace.
...Which shouldn’t even be possible anymore.
I refuse to acknowledge that particular benefit of leveling up.
Unfortunately, Cari ignores my whining.
Bella does too—though she at least has the decency to look amused by my suffering.
By the time we reach the administrative building, my nerves are tatters. It also doesn’t help that the place feels different, somehow. Almost as if the building itself knows someone important is visiting.
I don’t like it.
“Can we do this after we graduate?” I ask.
Cari snorts, and Bella finally responds.
“When royalty requests to meet you, you don’t make them wait.”
“I wasn’t going to make them wait,” I grumble. “I was just going to... avoid them. For a bit.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“I disagree.”
Bella just shakes her head ruefully.
Then we step inside—and space folds in on itself with a sharp, disorienting pull, and I stumble forward with a startled yelp as the floor decides to exist somewhere slightly different than I expected.
Cari collides into my shoulder with a muffled curse as she barely catches herself.
Bella, of course, doesn’t even wobble.
“Just in time,” a familiar voice says.
I look up, my eyes narrowed into my best Scruffy-glare I can muster.
The Headmaster stands behind his desk, entirely unbothered by the fact that he just yanked us across space like it was nothing more than opening a door again.
“Warn a person next time!” I snap, straightening and trying to pretend I hadn’t almost eaten the floor.
He arches a brow. “Would that have improved your landing?”
“Yes!”
“Then you can learn to anticipate it going forward.”
The doors slam open behind us, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
A blur of deep greens and golds rushes into the room, moving with a speed that feels absurdly wrong for how composed it looks.
And then she’s there.
An elf woman wraps her arms around the Headmaster in a sudden, unrestrained embrace.
“Father!”
Kophis lets out a long, suffering sigh as he’s knocked back a step.
“Elyr,” he says, voice dry. “Must you always make such an entrance?”
“It would be terribly dull otherwise,” she replies, utterly unrepentant.
She pulls back, and for a moment I just... stare.
Elf MageLevel ???
She’s beautiful.
Not in the simple way people throw the word around, but in the kind of way that makes me feel like I’m not supposed to be looking at her at all.
Her dress flows like liquid silk, threaded with faint patterns that catch the light just enough to draw the eye. And her eyes...
Like the Headmaster, they are brilliant emerald green, only made more stunning by speckles of gold that seem to dance within them.
They flick over us once, giving each of us a quick assessment before shifting away.
I resist the urge to straighten under the look, but Cari doesn’t. Not by much, but I catch the way her shoulders pull just a little tighter beside me.
“Selenia,” Elyr says.
That’s when my stare is broken, as I follow her gaze to find the Headmistress not far from the Headmasters desk.
I didn’t even realize she was here...
Still, the elf woman’s—
—No, the Headmaster called her Elyr.
Elyr’s tone catches my attention.
It’s warm, but... distinctly measured.
She steps forward and embraces the Headmistress, the gesture seeming familiar, but not the same as what she’d shown with the Headmaster.
Then a heavy set of footsteps echoes from the now open doors behind us.
A dwarf man enters, looking like he’s been personally offended by the concept of movement.
Dwarf FighterLevel ???
“By the stone and the deep roots, woman, must you sprint everywhere?” he grumbles, brushing past the threshold. “We’ve got centuries to live and you’re tryin’ to use ‘em all up before noon.”
His beard is a thick, burnished bronze, braided in careful segments that swing as he moves. His shoulders, broad enough to make the doorway seem almost inadequate, forces Cari and me apart as he nearly stomps straight through us.
I drift back a step, ending up even closer to Bella and half-hidden behind her.
The dwarf stops beside Elyr, glaring up at her with exaggerated irritation.
“Rurin,” the Headmaster says, barely holding back a smile. “It’s good to see you in good enough health to run.”
“Elves,” the Dwarf—Rurin, apparently—mutters. “Always rushin’ about. You’d think long lives would teach patience.”
“And you would think shorter ones would teach urgency,” Elyr replies lightly.
He huffs. “I’ve got plenty of urgency. Just not for joggin’ through halls like a courier with bad news.”
Behind him, a pair of attendants—an elven woman and a dwarven man—stumble into the room, both visibly struggling to catch their breath.
“O-Our honored—” the dwarf starts, voice wheezing.
Rurin waves a hand dismissively. “Aye, aye, we’re here. You missed it. Git.”
“But, Your Majesties, the proper—” the elf woman begins, looking from Rurin to Elyr pleadingly.
“You’ve already botched the proper,” he says, not unkindly. “Out you go before you make it worse.”
They hesitate, but when he quirks a brow, they quickly bow and leave, making sure to close the doors behind them with a gentle click.
Wait, your Majesties?
Cari and I both stiffen at the sudden realization.
I stare at the dwarf.
Then my eyes flit to the elf woman, Elyr, and I stare harder.
Not only because she’s fucking gorgeous, but because I suddenly know who, exactly, they are.
At the same time, their names suddenly hit me like a slap in the face as I recall the World Notice in which I acted as a tie breaker.
Rurin Bronzehair, the Roastmaster. Elyr Sig Altori Taska, the Steepmistress.
And apparently King and Queen of the dwarves and elves.
Why in the hells is everyone I meet some kind of royalty?
I try very hard to keep perfectly still, and I notice Cari doing the same, though she’s not fortunate enough to have a Bella to hide behind.
For a moment, the room is dead silent. Then the dwarf king turns toward the Headmaster, his expression shifting from irritation to something far more relaxed.
“Kophis,” he says, a grin tugging at his beard. “Still dragging students through space without warning, I see.”
“It saves time,” the Headmaster replies.
“It also ruins perfectly good entrances.”
“And yet you seem to have managed yours regardless.”
“Through sheer effort,” Rurin says gravely. “And much personal sacrifice.”
Elyr rolls her eyes. “Pray tell, dear husband, which beard hair was lost in this endeavor?”
The back-and-forth continues for a time, easy and familiar in a way that feels strange, given who’s standing in the room.
Then, gradually, it fades, and the room settles into something quieter and heavier.
"Arabella, Emilia, Cari, allow me to introduce you," the Headmaster says.
He gestures toward Elyr. "Elyr, Queen of the Elves and my daughter."
She gives us a gentle smile, but nothing more.
He then gestures to Rurin.
"Rurin, King of the Dwarves, and my son-in-law."
"Bah, you know I hate it when you call me that."
The Headmaster ignores him, instead allowing his gaze to slide back toward us.
“And now,” he says, “we come to the reason you insisted on speaking with them directly.”
Rurin’s eyes follow, landing on us.
The lighter mood from earlier is gone now, erased by the weight of their direct attention.
Cari’s usual restless energy snaps tight in an instant, and I’m not much better.
My shoulders draw in, instincts prickling like I’ve just stepped into a dungeon.
I edge just a little closer to Bella, who still somehow seems unphased.
“These are the ones?” Rurin asks, looking us over.
“They are,” Kophis confirms.
Elyr studies us for a moment longer, her gaze sharper than earlier.
Rurin grunts softly.
“Well then,” he says. “You’ve done us a service.”
He pauses, then shrugs one broad shoulder.
“Seems only right we repay it.”
He looks us each up and down, then grunts.
“Gold’ll do,” he says. “A fair share, for findin’ a mine that shouldn’t have been lost.”
Elyr exhales, slow and pointed.
“Darling, please,” she says, tone smooth as silk, “rewarding the discovery of a gold mine... with gold... is rather unimaginative.”
Rurin scowls at her.
“It’s practical.”
“You mean redundant.”
“Useful.”
“Boring.”
He huffs, then waves a hand toward us, clearly irritated.
“Fine,” he mutters. “What do you want, then?”
The question hangs in the air, and I feel it then.
A faint tug in the back of my mind, nudging me towards something distinctly familiar.
My Oathstone.
Something shifts at the edge of my thoughts. Not a voice or command, but... a suggestion.
An idea. One that pieces itself together and slots into place so smoothly I can’t resist it.
Trick.
I smile.
Both the Headmaster and Headmistress stiffen. Just slightly, but I see it.
Rurin and Elyr don’t.
“Bella?” I say, stepping back half a pace. “You first.”
She glances at me, but I just turn my smile on her, innocent as can be.
She turns back to Rurin, nodding slowly. She takes a few seconds to put together her response, but eventually she speaks.
“If you are truly willing to offer aid,” she says, calm and composed, “then I would ask that you send soldiers to the Chasm.”
Rurin’s brow furrows, and Elyr’s focus on Bella sharpens.
“My father’s forces hold the line,” Bella continues, “but the pressure from below grows stronger with each passing day. Even a small contingent of dwarven soldiers would make a meaningful difference.”
“Huh,” Rurin mutters. “A Princess with eyes, then. Rare breed, that.”
He scratches at his beard, considering.
Then nods.
“Aye. That’s a fair ask.”
Elyr inclines her head. “It will be arranged. Regulus has been nothing but cordial, so I will also send some elves.”
I’m stunned speechless for a moment when Bella, a royal in her own right, bows deeply at the waist.
Her next words are filled with more emotion than I’ve ever heard from her.
“Thank you.”
When she straightens again, she keeps her head lowered to the two, and I suddenly feel a deep pang of guilt.
Her nation is still dealing with the aftermath of that very same tie-breaking World Notice. She even mentioned it to me before, in the Secret Consortium.
But she undersold the severity of the issue. How important it was to her.
Though I am not responsible for the whims of the gods, or their decision to alter religious Classes, I am still the one that tipped the scales that day.
So even as I feel the debt I owe Bella grow—I now know exactly how I can repay her. And I know that I can make it real.
But... not yet.
I won’t spoil the surprise. When the time is right, though...
Cari shifts beside me, and I finally look away from Bella. Cari eyes me questioningly, so I give her an encouraging nod.
She straightens.
“...Right,” she says, a bit more firmly than she probably meant to. “My turn.”
Rurin gestures at her. “Go on, then.”
She hesitates, but only for a second.
“I want access,” she says.
Rurin quirks a brow at her.
“To restricted dwarven texts,” she continues. “Archives, historical accounts, monster manuals... anything normally locked behind rank or station.”
She lifts her chin slightly.
“If I’m going to be here, I want to learn everything I can.”
There’s a brief pause.
Elyr’s lips curve faintly.
“Ambitious.”
Rurin snorts. “Greedier than a dwarf.”
Cari flushes.
“Efficient,” she mutters.
Rurin barks a short laugh.
“Aye, that too.”
He glances toward Kophis. “Can you manage that?”
The Headmaster considers for a moment, then nods.
“With some limitations. I’ll determine when she gets them based on her courses, just send me whatever you feel is safe.”
“Aye, aye,” Rurin says, already waving it off. “She’ll get her access.”
Cari exhales, tension bleeding out of her shoulders.
Then they look at me.
The tug at my thoughts hasn’t gone away. If anything, it’s stronger now.
I step forward, barely restraining my tail as the words I’d heard not long ago come to mind all too eagerly.
“A true favor given freely,” I say, “begets three in turn.”
My Oathstone appears before me without ceremony, its gentle blue glow filling the space between us.
“You have got to be shitting me,” Rurin scowls, turning to glare at his wife. “This is your fault. You just had to say gold wasn’t good enough.”
Elyr’s eyes narrow on me, something sharp and dangerous flickering beneath her composure.
“Careful, child,” she says softly.
The Headmaster and Headmistress don’t stop me, though. They knew what I had in mind—I could tell. Yet they didn’t intervene.
Maybe it’s because I am a student of their Academy. Or maybe it’s because I’m the System Waker.
Their quiet support confuses me, but I don’t waste it.
New words come to me, each carefully picked by instinct and guided by knowledge that both is and isn’t mine.
“Thrice bound, thrice repaid. A true favor given freely begets three in turn.”
I gesture lightly, careful not to look directly at her.
“For Bella, her aid.”
A band of mana snaps into place between me and her, then stretches from my Oathstone to Rurin, and then from him to Elyr.
With her offer of elves to the cause, she’d unknowingly connected herself to the deal being struck.
I was glad to see it made official, even if it didn’t need to be.
Then I gesture to Cari.
“For my sister, her access.”
More strands of mana snap into existence between us.
I tilt my head slightly, my earrings tinkling as I meet Rurin’s gaze head on.
“A true favor given freely begets three in turn,” I finalize. “That leaves one.”
Rurin folds his arms with a scowl, waiting, begrudgingly, for me to finish. Elyr is similarly on edge, though her gaze remains locked, unblinking, on me.
“For me, I would only ask for a favor of my own,” I say at last.
He doesn’t even bother trying to argue.
“What kind?”
I already know what I want. A deal, much like the one I made with the Headmaster.
“One to be called upon when the time comes,” I say. “When I seek retribution against the Empire.”
Elyr frowns openly, now.
I can feel the shift in the room as she seems to wind herself up for a response.
But Rurin beats her to it.
A sharp grin splits his bearded face, gold and silver teeth flashing.
“Now that’s a request worth hearin’.”
Authors Note:I really like Rurin. Before anyone asks: I know in other fantasy stories Elves and Dwarves don’t exactly get along. In this world, though, there’s some deeper history tying them together. It's political, symbolic, and deeply personal to their history. The marriage of their Kings and Queens is reflective of that.
No spoilers though! :3 Fun fact to tack onto that (because I know some of you will want to know and that this info may not come up for quite some time):Yes, different races can have children together. Hybrids aren’t really a thing here, though—outside of some very rare, oddball cases. Normally the child takes after the mother, but strong bloodlines or System/magic interference can override that.