Undefined Deference

Tumbling through the air, the knight shifts their body’s weight, pointing their feet to the ground. Like a hero out of legend, they land—with one knee on the pavement, and one foot on the other.

Heavy plate scrapes against gravel, leaving only a wordless knight, calm even to this very moment.

My, my, well, I can’t say this is too surprising. They did seem awfully calm for someone just thrown out a window, after all, so such a reaction is only fitting.

Logically, my assumption is that the knight has ‘Resolve’, given the fact that their bones are not immediately shattered and all. Besides magic, Resolve is also one of the greatest distinguishers in ability.

As long as you have that, surviving a fall, or even a bullet is no biggie.

Given the supposed eccentricity of the school, it therefore comes to no great surprise that I’ve managed to spot a ‘Resolved’ in the wild.

Relishing in my fortune, I wait, and stand in anticipation of what is to come.

Without so much as a sound (besides the slight shuffle of metal plate), they turn, facing in our general direction.

“Mr. Althaiez, I see you and your friend have caught me at a most ill-timed moment.”

Emanating out of that armour, is the soft contralto of a girl. An elevated and calm one, befitting that of a great hero, or in the context of a school environment, a disciplinary committee member, one might say.

“Ah yes, ill-timed, right, ahem.” Mumbles Rainee, scratching the back of his head. “One could uh say that.”

“Opportune and golden, more like.” Deciding to approach, I give a slight bow and offer my hand.

“Azama Meyos, soon to be teacher at this Azamazing institution.”

Her face pulls backward by just 1cm, indicating some degree of surprise. A moment after, her jaw fully relaxes, as if simultaneously surprised and amused at my exclamation.

“Jaiga Al Heilweis, supposed paladin of justice and order.” The girl shakes my hand in turn, offering with it, a self deprecating joke and a firm, yet amicable gesture.

We continue for a few seconds before she pauses. Stopping just for a moment, she then utters with casual disappointment. “How rude of me.” And lifts her helmet's visor.

Underneath it, reveals a strapping young visage, with neck-length dark brown hair, and a fitting pair of fierce amber eyes to match! Simply Azamazing, I say. There’s really no shortage to my curiosity.

You can spot the marks of battle, even!

On her cauliflower ears, and slightly damaged nose, a testament to her unyielding prowess before challenge.

Superb, I could not have hoped for a better introduction!

“Apologies, it seems that in the company of barbarians, I have forgotten my manners.”

“I hope said barbarians aren’t me and Rainee.” I joke.

“No no, far from it.” She replies, smiling in turn. “The barbarians I refer to have taken refuge within the school.”

Oh, how fun! A gang of sprawling beasts in active opposition to a knight of honour and goodwill. But interestingly, the “barbarian”, apparently named Ceylica, seems far more popular than the knight in shining armour, even among the seemingly normal students.

Could it be that our knightly Jaiga is just unpopular around these parts, or is there a deeper power dynamic at play?

“So, the girl who threw you, guess her name’s Ceylica…” I say, giving an inquisitive glare. “Is she as the kids like to say ‘cool and hip’?

She scratches her chin and looks to me as if unsure of how to reply.

“I’m not terribly familiar with those terms, but I would suppose that within public perception, somewhat,” Jaiga elaborates on her point, a line between a mumble and speech.

“She is a Crown after all.”

Crown? The emphasis she placed on that word lends me to believe its a title, connotations included.

“By the way Jaiga, if you don’t mind telling me, what does the title of ‘Crown’ infer?”

I make reference to her previous statement, recalling that she said that word. Jaiga shuts her eyes in response, and lets out a faint chuckle.

“It infers to whoever holds enough power to command a part of the school.”

“So, if a Crown holds only a part of the school, would it be right to infer that besides Ceylica that there are several others?”

“You would be correct.”

A sound rings out from my right. Coughing into his hand, Rainee then looks at us in embarrassment.

“Jeez uh, I hope you aren’t hurt or anything.” asks the mage, unsure of whether to make awkward eye contact, or drift elsewhere.

Heh.

Trying to shift the conversation elsewhere, aren't you?

Well, if that isn’t just terribly suspicious and convenient to do so when the topic of ‘Crowns’ are mentioned!

Not that it concerns me, of course. Either way, Jaiga takes it in stride, and doesn’t question his intentions.

“Worry not, a trifle such as this has ill-effect on a knight like me.”

“Right, right, yeah, just asking.” Mutters the mage, with such a quickened rhythm that his words seem to blur into each other.

I get the sense that a certain sense of unease has begun to settle, and accordingly, break it apart with the power of my raw words.

“So, is defenestration a common pastime around here?”

"Defenestration, dishonour, and all manner of poorly inclined behaviour."

Without missing a beat, the unprepared Rainee sighs and offers me a consoling look.

"They're good students at heart, I promise."

Interjecting, Jaiga says with confident formality "My experience seems to suggest otherwise, are you aware that one out of five students have been subject to physical violence?"

To that, Rainee had no response. Giving only a downward gaze and increased intensity in head scratching.

"Yeah but like, mild violence, like just school things right?"

Replying only with a raised eyebrow, Jaiga defies Rainee with raw presence alone.

“Arg.”

Before long, the poor mage capitulates. Saying no more of the topic, the once somewhat adamant Rainee relents, now fixated on some nearby scenery.

Now back to thinking about the infamous Althaiez Academy. If I understand correctly, the school is ruled over by so called Crowns, violence is seemingly everywhere, and we have a paladin in fully decked out plate armour?

I see, how very very interesting!

I want to offer Rainee my opinion on the matter. But when I inspect him, I can’t help but realise he’s putting on his signature moody eyed look. Right, he's probably sad because he's being reminded of how unstable the school he created is.

Hmm.

Actually, now that I notice the tree reflected in his eyes, I have an idea. Maybe Rainee doesn’t want to speak about it, you know, awkwardness and all that. That’s okay in my book!

But I certainly do want to see it for myself.

“Very well then, onwards to meet the barbarians we go!”

I begin to head towards the tree, whistling all the while.

It’s a lovely breed, Aoelian Rarb, to be precise. Native to western Aoel, the tree is not only renowned for its magnificent orange leaves, but also, their application in magic as a conductor. However, perhaps most importantly of all, the tree is around 2.6 times my height, and just the perfect size for what I’m about to do!

Tensing my legs, I run. Dashing up the surface of the tree, I reach a height that is just parallel with a classroom window. Then, with a push of my feet, I backflip straight into the room, landing with my feet to the ground.

In front of the window, I stand, my back turned to everyone.

Oopsie, maybe it would’ve been better another way, but having a dramatic buildup to my reveal is fine too!

“Good afternoon, everyone!” I shout, doing a half-spin and bowing. “My name is Azama Meyos, but you can call me your superior, Mr. Azamazing, or just teach’!”

In the time that I introduce myself, a good eight seconds or so, I get a good grasp of the surrounding area.

If there's one word I can use to describe the place, it would be 'standard', but if I were allowed two then 'uniquely standard.'

Much like any usual school classroom, the place is large enough to roughly accommodate 25 students (judging by the average dimensions), and consists of a series of wooden desks aligned in rows of five.

The only difference to the standard are a series of personalised decorations and furnishings that fill the room, from movie posters, ornamental swords, to a juicer.

Even though the evidence is rather circumstantial, I suspect that the room is the territory of a student body and not a teacher's.

Meaning this is probably the territory of a so-called ‘Crown’.

In some pursuit of who does lead said territory, my eyes dart around the room, examining each student. There’s a mix of people here, human, elf, and even dwarf, all with the appearance of one in their late teens.

Though if I might add, a certain pale-skinned people are missing. And perhaps mages too, (though you can only identify them really through clothing, and not physical features).

Spying the girl on the centre table, I realise that she’s the one who threw Ms Knight out the window.

One of the professed Crowns, so to speak.

Now that I can get a better look, I also realise that she’s neither human, elf, dwarf, or any of the earthly races. Which is a somewhat roundabout way of saying she’s a demon. At the bare minimum, at least half anyway. With two horns protruding backwards, black sclera and a muscular build to boot, there's really no wonder.

To be more specific, she’s probably half-demon and half-Crilandese.

The latter I can infer through her slightly darker skin, her lower lip which is around 11 degrees wider from the corner of the mouth, and thinner than Aoelian eyebrows.

Azamazing if I say so myself, nowadays folks of such variety are hard to come by!

Relations between the USA and Criland aren’t exactly the best, so to get the opportunity to see one first hand is more than an exquisite occurrence. Moreover, it seems she's got quite the personality to boot. With a cool leather jacket, shorts, a skull on her right shoulder and goons surrounding her, chances are that she has quite the fiery spirit.

Now I know you shouldn’t judge based on appearances only, but come on!

If that isn’t a recipe for a modern, outgoing, confident personality then I don’t know what is!

And that’s not even adding another crucial detail. For some reason there's also a furry-eared boy on her lap feeding her scoops of ice cream from a tall cup.

Is this slavery or companionship, I wonder?

Either way’s fine by me!

I tune into their conversation in the meantime, wanting to witness two lovebirds in their natural school environment.

"Say ahh,” whispers the cat-boy.

"Ahh,” she replies barely above a whisper, a spoon now in her mouth.

Chomp. The half-demons’ eyes close, absorbing all the delectable flavour of her food.

The boy looks up for a moment, his eyes meeting hers. "Ceylica, you're so cute when you're eating!"

Regardless of my presence, the two still carry about their routine.

They speak to each other in Crilandese, feeding one gentle push of a scoop after another.

The sudden pang of metal against glass, punctuated only by chomps and ‘Ahhs’ pass.

Soon, the ice cream diminishes, leaving nothing save for a long biscuit stick.

When they come to, the boy smiles, and playfully presses it between his lips.

He closes his eyes at this point, clearly flushed with desire.

With one half in his mouth, and the other in the open, what comes next seems more than obvious.

"Ah, would you do yours truly, such an honour?"

He has a smile that naturally entices her.

Without a response, she then bites onto it.

At first, it seems like they will inch ever so closer and kiss.

But what really happens is quite different.

As the boy closes his eyes for a kiss, the girl's head suddenly pulls back, the entirety of the snack with it.

Then, with one fling of her head, tosses it into the air, and eats it whole.

Meanwhile, I offer a few claps, congratulating them for their display of heated passion.

“My my, so cats and demons do get along.”

Lovely, I do so love to see such exquisite personality in action! As always, I try to find appreciation and value in all things.

Though speaking in terms of food, this is only the appetiser. A preliminary for the real dish that awaits, something beyond just surface-level awe.

First impressions, while key, are no basis for a complete character study after all. While one can insinuate oh so many things from a distant visual assessment, a good individual conversation does help too.

It seems that Ms. Demon lady is thinking the same thing. Because at this moment, she smiles, and with ease lifts the boy off her lap, getting one last waft of his hair.

On cue, her companions then disperse - paving an open line for her.

When all this is said and done, that is when she stands, and boy, does she really stand!

I must say, she must’ve had quite the diet growing up! Now that she’s off the table, I can finally get a good assessment of her physicality. Pronounced biceps, quadriceps, abs, and an all around strong body to speak.

But that’s not all!

Included in this package is also a most impressive height!

To rise even a head and more above me, is no meagre feat, I say.

But that’s where my compliments end. Because despite her muscles, my suspicions and instinct allude to something most disappointing.

Demons are strong, and half-demons sometimes even moreso. Depending on her circumstances, the possibility that she never met a strong opponent is definitely possible.

Highly, even.

Walking to me, an arms length of distance now between us, she declares with a Crilandese accent (albeit in the Modern Aoelian Language) “So Azama." Before slamming her hand to my head's side, saying "What do ye say to becoming mine?"

Upon this request, a round of snickers erupt around the classroom, accompanied by wayward looks and hushed whispers. If I had to guess, I would suppose this is a routine occurrence, given the casual reactions.

Some sort of quaint initiation ritual, maybe.

“My my, I don’t even know your name yet!”

“Ceylica Lardeyenaga-megil-Øvste.”

Well played! Though I’m afraid, now that I know your name, I'll just use my second excuse!

"I'll have to decline, my responsibility lies with the student community, and not a student, I'm afraid."

Raising her brows, her face inches even closer, a sparkle of playful hostility in her eyes.

"Ye sayin' I'm not good enough for ye?"

"In some abstract sense, absolutely."

That's not to say any student would be good enough for me to date, of course. As a man of great principle and fun, I find the idea of dating a student a terrible waste of time. Why dedicate your time to one, when you have the duty of cultivating a whole community?

But given the opportune moment, I figured it was as good a time as any to strike. Which, speaking of, does seem to have brought forth a most cheeky glare in her eyes.

"Yer brave, ye know?"

"Fully aware and cognizant of that fact.”

“Ye sure ye won’t change yer mind?”

“One hundred and twenty percent, with a twenty percent margin of error”.

It’s well into a potentially malicious and terribly predatory grin that she finally utters “Alright.”

Which, accompanied by further murmurs around the room, and undertones of suspense, can only infer one thing.

Most of the time, when such a reveal happens, something’s going to change. Whether it be a firm handshake, declaration of rivalry, or confession of sin.

Though, from what I can tell, whatever it is that’s coming next, surely won’t be as friendly as what came before. It may be more exciting, however, if you catch my drift.

Frankly, I think a demonstration of power is in order, is it not?

Chitter chatter is fine and all, but a break from the repetition of dialogue is always welcome!

“Then I’ll make ye mine!”

Her free left hand thrusts forward, aiming for my collar.

In that phantasmal moment, no more than a second, I react.

Just like that, our battle had begun, an exchange of movement and limbs.

Wonderful.