Battle Schooled!

by Billy Wong

  Battle Schooled!

  by Billy Wong

  Smashwords edition

  Battle Schooled! Copyright © 2017 Billy Wong

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the Author. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.

  All characters in this compilation are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Credits and author page

  Sample of Iron Bloom

  Chapter 1

  Rupert stood on the line of new students just inside the wide front doors of the University of Ostuh, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waited for it to move slowly forward. The hallway was spacious with a high ceiling, matching the image given by the large rectangular main building's exterior. He imagined some of the more privileged youths made too much of a fuss over the uniforms they received from the room the line led into, when they should be less picky and just deal with what they got.

  Ahead of him boys and girls introduced themselves to one another and chatted, clad in ways ranging from rugged travel clothes to formal wear to mail or light plate armor. For now their garb hinted at their backgrounds, while once they all dressed the same only their behavior would. Rupert kept his gaze low, trying to avoid the others' attention. His all-black clothing probably helped him seem less approachable, but once he was forced to change he would lose that advantage. Hopefully his attitude would suffice to let him stay in the background.

  "What are you standing around for, you night-loving freak?" a voice snapped behind him. His pale skin from not going outside much probably added to that impression. He looked. A big boy glared at him, fists balled as if waiting for him to do something. It took him a moment to realize the person in front of him had walked several feet forward while his mind was elsewhere. He closed the gap, ignoring the urge to hurl a barb back at his taunter. The boy was probably just trying to impress his friends or future classmates by acting big. Grumbling at his back confirmed to Rupert he hadn't gotten the reaction he wanted.

  He drew near the door as more students disappeared inside and exited carrying a bundle of green and white garments. Not his favorite colors, but they must be meant to help foster a calm environment. Close enough now to see inside, he beheld a blonde girl in an elegant dress with ringlets hanging down on either side of her face, talking with a female student who sat behind the table on which green shirts were piled.

  "You mean you aren't going to take my measurements?" the blonde asked irritatedly, "and expect me just to pick an unfitted piece?" Slightly tall for a girl, she wore extensive jewelry including big earrings and multiple bracelets. A large spear rested on her back, which would look out of place in school if not for many of her peers also carrying arms. Such would've been unthinkable just a few years ago, but the war and subsequent influence of Saint General Julianna and her allies had bolstered the valuation of martial prowess in the public eye, extending even to Ostuh's education institutions. Even so, her weapon of choice was bigger and stood out more than most. His own single-bladed axe hung at his hip, not the most extravagant but functional with its heavy, deadly head.

  The seated girl rolled her eyes while a man and woman in sleek jackets, no doubt school staff, stood watching calmly by a wall. "There are enough sizes to suit any figure," she said, waving a hand to indicate the sample uniforms hung up behind her. "If you're that adamant about it though, feel free to step to the side and discuss it with the instructors while everyone else gets their uniform." Rupert wondered if it had really been a good idea to admit so many girls. Some of the continent's greatest leaders and warriors were women, true, but female children tended to be raised in ways that lent themselves less to adaptation than males. Maybe they should've at least been divided into separate classes, so the genders could go at their own pace and not burden each other with their own issues.

  "One of my lineage would never resign themselves to going last! Fine, I will take the size labeled Large."

  Snickering rose along the line. "So the conceited brat is fat?" someone asked.

  She glowered at the boy, deeply tanned with thick hands which looked accustomed to heavy labor. "I'm not fat, it's my... um, bust. What do you know anyway other than farm work, you brown beast?"

  "I'm no farmer! My father is a renowned scientist, who I've assisted in the field for years."

  A squeaky voice piped up between them. "Will you quit your petty bickering and move? I'm getting hot, I want to change and put my things down already." The pigtailed girl not even five feet tall wasn't heavily dressed in a flimsy blouse and mid-length skirt, so the huge backpack that towered above her head must account for her discomfort. Tiny and petite with it, she resembled a child with big eyes set in a round face, but must not be that much younger than the rest of them. She probably needn't have brought so many changes of clothing or whatever the pack held, but feminine vanity was hardly bound by logic.

  "Who do you think you are," the blonde said, "for you to talk to a member of the Lyonesse family this way?"

  A boy with neatly brushed long hair in an expensive vest and pants did a double take. "So you must be Charlene Lyonesse... no wonder you're so smug! The daughter of an irrelevant family, struggling to keep their name afloat by sheer loudness of mouth."

  "That isn't true! Those who bear the name Lyonesse have always been at the forefront, fighting to keep the martial spirit alive in ever-softening Ostuh. Now that the whole country recognizes we were in the right, you still have the nerve to talk down to us?"

  "But you never accomplished a thing, did you? For all your father and his father before him argued their position, the only reward they got for it was to be marginalized by the Council . Your 'warrior' family devoid of tact was completely ineffective at promoting its cause. Saint General Julianna and her enemies ironically were the ones who reminded Ostuh of the importance strength of arms can have, not you."

  Charlene scowled. "And you're just some no-name noble pup trying to push around one who at least has a name when you think I won't dare to touch you!" She reached for her spear. "Now let's see how well that works out for you."

  "Shouldn't you do something to stop this?" the student distributing clothes mouthed to the two standing by the wall. The lean bearded man in his early thirties shrugged. He seemed on the young side to be a professor, but might be a newer one.

  Before the feuding nobles could clash, the pigtailed girl interposed herself between them with a yawn. "As I was saying, I'm getting hot. So whatever your dispute is, save it for the training yard or something. Besides, it's embarrassing for the well bred to lose their composure so easily."

  After holding her critic's gaze for tense seconds, Charlene turned away towards the table. "My shirt please." The seated girl handed her a Large and pointed towards a second table stocked with white garments, which Rupert assumed to be bottomwear. Not looking back at the fancily cl
ad boy, she strode away.

  "I figured somebody among the youngsters would handle it." The male instructor regarded the pigtailed girl with approving eyes. "Wasn't expecting such a small and dainty person to do it, though. Good save there."

  "It was nothing. As I said I'm hot, so I don't need a fight to delay me taking off this pack."

  The man smiled, but his voluptuous, stern featured female colleague of about forty frowned. "Still, it doesn't bode too well for this batch of half-year arrivals for a fight to almost break out this early."

  "If it gets to that point, I guess we can rein them in."

  Rupert wondered how bad it was that he took some relief from this. If other students focused on conflict among themselves, it would help him stay away from it... maybe, if his luck held out.

  The disruption over, the line resumed its movement. The pigtailed girl picked up her Extra Small top and asked, "Are uniforms for male and female students exactly the same, with us sharing the same shirts? Seems boring if that's the case."

  "There's a subtle difference in the shorts. The girls' shorts are a little looser, since they know we tend to be more flexible."

  "That doesn't sound like much of a difference visually, but I guess better than nothing."

  Rupert questioned whether making one gender's attire more comfortable was the best idea when boys would enjoy being able to move better too, but then differences like that were nothing out of the norm. He felt some curiosity as to the pigtailed girl's name after seeing her admirable proactiveness, but figured he would naturally hear it later on. Maybe he had been wrong to blame Charlene's sex for her behavior, when it might be attributed to her status as a spoiled rich kid. After a few more students got their uniforms, his turn finally came. He was slightly surprised at needing a "Large" shirt at just under six feet with an unremarkable if solid build, but supposed males would generally lean towards the bigger side in a mixed categorization with females. That noble girl must have quite the endowment to fill out the same size garment when she didn't look overweight, the boy's teasing aside.

  When he'd received his shorts too, he followed the other boys into their dressing room down the hall. Wise of the school to at least have those be separate, as putting half naked boys and girls in their late teens together would be quite the risk. The crowded room reeked of sweat, which he soon felt on his bare soles after taking off his shoes. He put on a frown while not acknowledging the curious and possibly hopeful looks some sent his way. If they wished to find new friends, they could do it somewhere else, because he had no need to be distracted by such. It wasn't as if he would stay in contact with or benefit much from fleeting friends he made here anyway. Best not to get too invested in others, and potentially their problems along with them.

  After changing into his uniform, he joined the crowd of mixed boys and girls in the hallway. The shorts were a tad tighter than he'd have preferred, in particular riding up into his crack, but they would probably get better quickly once broken in. A couple minutes later, the male instructor reappeared before them. "Looks like not everyone is finished yet," he mused. "A bit slow on the part of some, even accounting for the possibility they got their uniforms last."

  "Charlene is making sure everything is in perfect order," a girl said. "It wouldn't be proper for a lady's first impression to be anything less, after all." A fellow noble friend, or an admirer of lower standing? Either way though, Charlene's first impression to some would have been her display in front of the table and not her initial appearance in uniform.

  "How shocking," said the tanned boy who'd poked fun at her weight, "for the pampered priss to be holding the rest of us up."

  "Well," the miniature girl with pigtails replied, "that highborn lad she argued with hasn't come out any earlier."

  "When did I ever say he did? It's not like he and I are friends."

  Eventually Charlene emerged, followed by the noble boy from their respective changing rooms. Both had aligned their uniforms amazingly well with their frames, as if they were mannequins on display in some tailor's shop. Not that all the effort spent over it would amount to much when moving around disrupted that precarious neatness sooner than later.

  "So you two have something in common, that being a propensity to waste time," said the pigtailed one, and they exchanged bashful looks before hastily averting their gazes.

  The instructor cleared his throat. "Now that we're all here, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Professor Milo, and I'll be one of your teachers in the coming semester. First I'll show you to your rooms where you can leave your things before we begin classes." He led them upstairs and through the halls, Rupert unable to help listening in on the pigtailed girl's conversations. She chatted energetically with some other girls about what artistic clubs they would join, proposing some she might start if they didn't exist yet, but he couldn't catch a name in there. They arrived at a pair of doors facing each other. "Boys, to my left. Girls... well, I shouldn't have to clarify."

  "Are there specific beds we should use?" a boy asked.

  "Each bed will have a name on it. I trust you can find yours."

  Rupert had hoped they would have free rein to choose their own, considering they were arguably adults. But the faculty probably didn't want to deal with potential disputes, and might also view this as a lesson in adjusting to circumstances outside their control like they would encounter in the real world. He understood the rationale, but still wished to be placed out of the way, where he could minimize unwanted attention. He turned out to be fortunate in that regard at least, as he found his bed tucked away in a nice dark corner. Or did the staff assign him this spot purposely knowing his history? Considerate of them, if they didn't just seek to avoid more hassle for themselves. Hearing some of the boys complain about the lack of storage space other than under their beds, he smiled to picture how Pigtails might react if the girls' situation was similar. That giant pack even fitting under the bed seemed questionable without removing a good portion of its contents.

  A few minutes later, Milo called for everyone to rejoin him in the hall. Leaving the things they didn't need on hand, the boys met back up with the girls and professor. Charlene looked a bit flustered, likely because the dorm setup wasn't the most desirable in her view, while Pigtails appeared unperturbed as she still gabbed happily away. Maybe she had quickly figured a way to store her things in acceptable manner... or just thrown them atop her bed thinking she would work it out later. A big pink ribbon had also materialized on her chest, which Rupert wasn't sure how she would get away with as part of her uniform until the professor commented on it and she explained it as a "tie" because a piece of it looped around her neck. Miraculously, Milo let it slide.

  He brought their class, about sixty in all, to a big classroom which sloped upward from the teacher's area on one side with its desk and board. He gave a rote introduction of what their goals would be for the term—building the basics for them to transition into the adult world, more or less—then asked the students to volunteer what they sought to take from their experience. Some eagerly raised their hands, the pigtailed princess particularly lively as she waved like she was thirsty to answer. "And what might your name be, young lady?" Milo asked.

  "Peggy Petunia of the bountiful town of Spring, but you can just call me PP!" A mix of giggles and sighs spread through the room.

  "I think we'll stick with Peggy," he replied in a flat tone. "What do you look forward to during your stay?"

  "Making a lot of friends, trying new things and having tons of fun!"

  Milo grinned faintly. "Well, those are not unworthy pursuits. Is there anything you aspire to learn, though?"

  "Of course! I guess. I'm sure there will be plenty of interesting things for me to discover, every new day is an adventure after all!"

  "That's a fine way of viewing it." He looked to a chubby boy who had raised his hand. "Moving on, what is your name and what do you hope to take away from here?"

  "Simon, and I want to be prepared for my futur
e work as a scribe."

  He garnered answers from a number of students, which bored Rupert as most looked forward to mundane careers. He was curious as to what Charlene and the noble who argued with her would say though, perhaps talking about how they would bring honor to their families in lieu of the usual bland jobs. However, neither of them raised their hands early, and when Milo finished calling on those who did, he pointed without warning at Rupert. "What about you?"

  The class turned their eyes on him and waited while he hesitated in surprise. "Er, uh, my name is Rupert."

  "And what do you picture yourself gaining from your stay at the University?" A few snickers went up, as everybody else who answered had done so more smoothly than him. Not quite fair, since they had volunteered while he was taken off guard.

  Scrambling for an answer and not having a good one spring to mind, he settled on the honest if uninspiring one. "To get through without major trouble." Laughter filled the air then, even those he would expect to be more reserved like Charlene joining in, and he cringed. He tried to look on the bright side; at least many might take it for an attempt at humor.

  Milo raised an eyebrow. "That is a... candid response. Would you mind telling why you feel a need to focus on avoiding trouble?"

  "I'm just unlucky," he said turning away a bit. "Trouble seems to follow where I go."

  "Well then, perhaps you can learn ways here to make that less so."

  "That would please me." Though, since school put priority on academics, he had his doubts he could learn anything new of that nature. He already had a plan on how to stay clear of conflict after all, even if whether it would pan out was yet to be seen.

  The day rolled on, Milo giving them starting lessons on mathematics and history before the time would come for their lunch break. Even these early sessions touched on things Rupert hadn't known, but he wasn't too engaged as advanced math seemed irrelevant in normal life as did long-ago history. He declined to raise his hand at first in hopes of being passed over, but Milo continuously remembered to call on him. Grudgingly, he decided to volunteer every so often in order not to draw attention through his lack of unforced participation. Since he didn't want to stand out, he kept his responses as generic and uncontroversial as possible. This might make for quite the long day, if he wasn't used to restraining himself. Step by step... provided he didn't deviate from his resolve, he should maximize his chance of making it through without incident.