62 A Fight at the Academy

These collared people were often walking behind an opulently dressed person or two. They wore rich clothing themselves, but nothing could be done to hide the mass of iron that encircled their necks. If those were anything like Jacob's, they were similarly enchanted with obedience magic by an enchanter. He wondered if any of the specialized earth mages made their residence in Steelshade. Which of them would be so bereft of morals that they'd willingly create these bindings?

Jacob watched the pedestrians a little while longer, waiting for the fact that perhaps his situation was far less rare than expected to settle in. Hadn't he been told that there were no slaves in Delreya? What was this, then? He made a mental note to ask Provost Thomson. For all her cruel training, she seemed to Jacob to be a morally upstanding person. At least, as far as those came in this world. Perhaps she'd be able to shed light on the situation. He doubted he'd find answers out here; most people avoided him both for the armor and collar he wore.

That issue was highlighted as he approached the gates to the Steelshade Academy. Mages were an elite class in Delreya, nearly as influential as the nobles. Most of them became nobles in their own right through service to the kingdom. Benjamin played a balancing game, keeping the mages happy but not overly powerful. Begrudgingly, Jacob admitted that the king did a good job of that, at the least.

"Halt! Do not step any closer," the Academy's guard called. He wore plate armor, the gold gilding decorating the breastplate highlighting the illustriousness of the institution he guarded. "State your name and purpose."

Jacob did as he asked. Finding himself in enough trouble by his terrible fortune, Jacob endeavored to make the day as problem-free as possible. "Special Sergeant Jacob of Leafburrow. I come to visit an old friend, Angelica of Leafburrow," he explained sincerely. His gestures were placating, but he still saw that the guard was tense and hesitant to believe his story.

"How is it that a servant is in the military? Your story is unlikely, servant," the man stood resolutely in front of the gate.

"That's a story of my own, guard. Now either let me through or fetch Angelica," Jacob changed tactics. Being kind wasn't working; he didn't have any obligation to be nice to someone who explicitly disliked him for his situation. "You must have heard of me before. They call me the Reaper of Writha Pass."

The guard busted out laughing until he saw that Jacob was being serious. "You aren't kidding, are you, servant?" the man breathed. "Prove it. I'll fetch the Lady Angelica if you are able to best me in combat."

That was enough for Jacob. Without the formal rules of a duel, he'd be able to use his magic at will. It was a fact that not many knew; the Reaper wasn't just a swordsman. With his wind modifying his techniques, he'd be nigh unstoppable unless this guard was as good as Provost Thomson. Seeing as he worked a job as a gate guard, that couldn't be the case.

News of the challenge took the guards of the Academy by storm. Many of the gold-adorned men crowded around the gate guard and Jacob. Drawing his blade, Jacob waited for his opponent to initiate the combat. The man was actually an abnormality; he wielded a greatsword rather than a longsword, the heavy weapon taking considerable more might to heft.

Without so much as a warning, the gate guard leapt at Jacob. Immediately, Jacob accelerated his body to the side, sliding out of the attack's range and placing him in a perfect place to place his own blade. His longsword – the one issued by the military – stopped just short of a hole in the gate guard's armor where his arm connected to his torso.

"Are we done?" Jacob asked, feigning a yawn as if the combat had overly bored him. That was far from the case; using magic as accurately as he just did was something he was just getting used to. The success of his maneuver just now was as much due to luck as it was to skill. Maybe his fortunes were finally looking up.

The guard, for his part, looked ashamed as he glanced at Jacob. "I'll be honest, Reaper. The Lady Angelica is not one that I can just go and fetch. I'll see if I can convince her to come to meet you, though. Joel, do you mind covering for me real quick?" The last was directed at another heavily armored man who nodded as the gate guard hurried off.

His words created a stir. Among the guards, the revelation that the servant in front of them was the Reaper of Writha Pass made its rounds. For Jacob, he wondered why Angelica was considered a lady, and why she was such an untouchable figure. What had happened in his absence from Steelshade? It had only been a few months, but so much had changed.

The gate guard returned just a paltry fifteen minutes later, Angelica nowhere to be found. "The Lady Angelica has refused your invitation to meet her, Reaper. I'm afraid that I can't keep up my side of the bargain. I must ask you to leave, but if you are in need of something else, I will attempt to help you. Ask for Nathan next time you come around; almost all the Academy guards witnessed our fight."

Jacob's view of Nathan improved considerably from just the one exchange. He couldn't fault him for not bringing Angelica if she herself did not want to meet him. Perhaps she still harbored a grudge against him. Where he once felt that it would be a great kindness to allow her to hate him, he wanted no part of that responsibility anymore.

The ability to overcome pain was something everyone needed to learn on their own; Jacob couldn't stand as a patsy forever. With a nod to the now-courteous gate guard, Jacob retreated back down the street he came from. Maybe a visit to the old guardhouse next?