Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Forward
Just a few things before you start. Like many of you I was drawn in by the writing of Winterwhereof and was saddened when I heard that the project was put on the back burner and though I applaud their efforts and hope for their success in their future endeavors there is a desire within me to see the continued adventures of Natalie et al. persist enough to create the following.

As is my habit as a narcissist and OCD reader I habitually highlight spelling, grammatical and punctuation errors while I’m reading as well as make notes on what or how I think a character would respond or act in the books I’m reading. This is no different here. Usually they are just for my private enjoyment and no one would see or even know that they existed. When I decided to add to this story and then decided to post it, I included those additional changes as well as it somewhat effects the continued story I added after the last update I have of Winterwhereof (7.125).

In my amateur efforts as an editor I used a compare document macro on Microsoft Word to highlight with blue text the differences so the reader would know at a glance the changes I made. It started out as a DOCX and has changed format, perhaps several times, to whichever one you are reading it in now. So I am unsure if these changes carried through. Of course after the 7.125 release, (I hope everyone is aware where the author has currently left their story), If Winterwhereof has the desire or opportunity to continue their story after their hiatus I will attempt to incorporate their work in my fanfic, but I assume my attempts to predict the course of Natalie’s journey will pale in comparison and the more I create the harder that will be to incorporate and as such might not mesh well if I attempted to integrate them. We’ll see.

I do plan to keep updating this work for as long as the muse and desire strike me. I make no promises as I can’t predict my future schedule and this is a spare time project for me. But, further updates should be marked in the title, v7.125 is the furthest the author posted to date, 9a indicates the chapter of my first full entry. (Chapter 7 of the OG writer was 300 pages, compared to an average of 150 pages of their other ‘chapters’ so I chopped it in half in a somewhat arbitrary place and that is where chapter 8 comes from). If I upload more updates or start different chapters expect to see them with designations as such; 9c, 10a for example, so you can see at a glance if there is more from your last reading. It’s too long to post the whole work on AO3 in one go so I’ve separated it into chapters.

A few additional comments about this world before you begin. Having only read a few different futa works I am unsure if there is a standard or agreed upon vision of what a futa actually is. I assume each author has the license to image it in whatever form they desire. To my understanding the basic concept is just a cock added somewhat awkwardly above the OG genitals of a woman, and I think from what I can tell Winterwhereof follows this standard. However, notwithstanding this originates from imagination and magic, this seems a little odd to me.

So in my fanfic this is how I interpret the Class. Natalie’s clit and urethra have combined to form her girlcock, much like the function of a normal male appendage that combines a stimulating vector and a vessel for pee and ejaculate. It also occupies the same locational area of those two parts, while leaving the rest of her genitals the same. I think Winterwhereof makes one mention of her clit and I’m trying to remember (It’s hard to search such a large body of work for occurrences), but other than a couple times with some plants that penetrate her vagina her original organs are rarely mentioned. I found that odd, so in my adaptation her lesbian and bi partners are all still interested in her OG genitals (and how they now conjoin with the new ones). She still has a g-spot which is still a valid means to pleasure her. (A little odd, I admit, but now the tissue connecting her old clit and g-spot has now stretched to her cockhead, making the whole length between the two more sensitive than just a normal cock shaft. She wondered in the beginning if her’s was more sensitive than a normal one, it is) As to her internals; she still retains her uterus, although I doubt I will delve into any breeding scenarios with her as the recipient, her ovaries have been converted to testis, which is where all the ejaculate now comes from. (Yay, no more periods for her?) And don’t snipe at the fact it would be too hot inside her for sperm to stay viable, I’m aware. I just can’t think of a logical alternative without giving her a ball sack or for the sperm to magically manifesting, so it’s special sperm to go with her magical cock, got it?

After my current writing I included my current thoughts on future sexy encounters and story lines, with the purpose of informing the reader and also to ask for your collaboration in this great story. I don’t pretend to have all the answers and would like to encourage you all to submit your story ideas to add to my own. Sexy encounters and adventuring ideas, future gear and skills for Natalie and anyone else (most everyone else is a blank slate at this point). Basically how can we continue this adventure together, because I don’t have the imagination to do it all, and frankly fighting scenes are not my forte. That said, everyone has their own personal kinks, me included, but I don’t plan on making any huge 180ᴼ directional leaps to the sex arc. So if anyone was hoping I’d add necrophilia or something outside Natalie’s consensual attitude, sorry to disappoint.

After my writings I added a glossary, something I read in the message boards that people were interested in. As I continue the story and make entries of my own I tried to highlight them so you can tell they’re not original. After that is the current build for Natalie’s character and her skill tree, I try to keep it updated as of the latest writing. (I have no idea if her abilities; ie. Furor, Tenacity and Prowess change with her leveling from their starting F values or if they are only modified by her skills and gear because it isn’t explicitly mentioned. Only generic terms like, major, minor and so on with gear and skills, have been used making it hard to determine. Basically is she still a badass when unequipped and with only passive skills active?)

After that I added a stats page. I admit straight up I adjusted the level one, progression two, Carnal Energy requirements from 20 to 40, it seemed to work better when I worked out how much energy was required for each level and progression upgrades. As such Natalie spent a week, instead of a few days, making out with Jordan before traveling to Tenet to gather enough to increase [Carnal Harvest] to progression two. Most of the later original gains and levels are vague enough. (Which helped make it easier to initially write, I assume) The things like the glossary, build and skill pages help me while writing so instead of spending long periods of time having to track down the what and where of it all, I can reference it at a glance. If you spot any inconsistencies feel free to inform me. I would appreciate all constructive comments or suggestions. I don’t need your hate mail though, thank you very much ;) There has also been some thoughts about creating a map in the future, if you’re an artist or good at using computers to create maps let me know!

I make no claim of being a writer; I’ve never written or published anything. The only claim I make is as an avid reader and fan of Winterwhereof. So I hope you enjoy this with that in mind. And please if you’re new to this work, check out the other writings of Winterwhereof. They have a Patreon and discord channel and their works can be found on several websites like Scribble Hub, where I first encountered it.

With appreciation,
Springwhenin

Feel free to contact me @: [email protected]
(And yes this is a derivative homage to the author. I have no imagination for original nom de plumes)

Dungeons & Dalliances v7.125.9a

Chapter 1 Unlocking
Natalie would never admit it, but she was so nervous she might be sick.

Unlocking ceremonies were a big deal. Not only did they mark a person’s coming of adulthood, occurring on the midnight after their eighteenth birthday, but they were the day a person decided their Class… the path they would walk for the rest of their life. So, there was plenty for Natalie to be nervous about.

Then again, not really. Everyone knew what Class Natalie would be getting, even Natalie herself. Or, roughly what. The gods only provided three options to deliberate over, but a person’s offered Classes were shaped by the life they had led up to their Unlocking. And Natalie? Natalie’s life didn’t leave much to interpretation.

Some Unlocking ceremonies had an air of excitement about them—an air of mystery. Natalie’s, on the other hand, was still cheerful, upbeat, in the vein of most big events, but there was no latent intrigue hanging in the air, around the mingling party-goers. There was nothing to wonder over, little to be excited for besides the fact it was Natalie’s big day. Because Natalie would be receiving a brawler-type adventuring Class, and that was as given as the sky being blue.

Sure, they didn’t know the specifics, but then, they never would. The specifics to a person’s Class were private, shared with family and friends. Maybe, with a person’s adventuring party. So there was nothing for the party-goers to discover, today. Yet even with nothing to be worried over, Natalie was nervous.

She didn’t have a habit of being nervous, and she triply didn’t have a habit for seeming nervous. Which was why she was pissed off, too. Why the hell was she being such a baby?

“Worried what you’ll get?”

Natalie jumped. She’d been stewing, alone, off to the side of the festivities, finally having extricated herself from the crowd, and so she hadn’t seen or heard Jordan arrive. That’d probably been intentional. Natalie’s best friend had always had a penchant for sneakiness. Her Unlocking ceremony had been as decided as Natalie’s: she’d gotten a rogue-type Class, and in a week, would be shipping off to Tenet Delving Academy. The same fate that awaited Natalie.

Or, that was the plan. It depended on whether she got an adventuring class. If Natalie got a worker-type or crafter Class, or anything else, then her promising future went up in smoke.

“Worried?” Natalie scoffed. “About what?”

Jordan gave Natalie an amused look, one that said she saw through her. “Doesn’t have to be rational. I was worried, too. It’s a big deal.”

“I guess.” A short pause as Natalie looked around at all of the people that had showed up. All Unlocking ceremonies saw good turnout, regardless of popularity. It was tradition, and in a town as small as Tinford, tradition held weight. “I just want it to be here, already,” she added.

“Twenty minutes. They’ll be shuffling you off to the church in no time.” Another amused look. “You know, if you weren’t brooding in the corner, it wouldn’t feel like the clock’s ticking so slow.”

“Brooding?” Natalie eyed her. “I’m not brooding.”

“Stoically awaiting your fate,” Jordan corrected with a roll of her eyes. “The Architect forbid, someone ever think you on edge.”

Natalie sniffed.

“Anyway,” Jordan said. “I can’t believe Sofia showed up.”

Natalie’s nose wrinkled. Even hearing Sofia’s name put Natalie in a bad mood, and no, it wasn’t because she was the only person within a two town radius that could beat Natalie in the sparring ring. It was… how smug about it she was.

Sure, she never taunted Natalie outright, but Natalie could read the expression on her face, every time she scraped out her victory. Natalie didn’t understand how consistently the white-haired girl could beat her, and by such thin margins. Natalie was always a hair breadth away from winning, but it always ended the same. A loss, and Sofia’s smug self-satisfaction. Ugh. “If you’re trying to cheer me up, you’re doing a poor job.”

Why did Sofia show up? The reason was obvious—the aforementioned tradition, and Tinford’s tiny size—but Natalie couldn’t help but take it as a slight. She knew that was irrational, but she couldn’t help herself. Something about Sofia infuriated her. It was those… those… those stupid cheekbones. Cheekbones?

“Cheer you up?” Jordan asked. “I thought you didn’t need cheering up.”

Natalie seized the distraction. Clearly, she was even more out of it than she’d thought, if she was thinking about how Sofia had gorgeous cheekbones. Seriously, where had the thought even come from? The only thing Natalie wanted to do to Sofia’s face was punch it, not… anything else. Which, with how often they sparred together, was something she got to do with fair frequency. And yes, every time she landed a clean left hook square on Miss Stuck-Up’s nose was as amazing as the first.

“I don’t,” Natalie huffed. “And I can’t believe we’re stuck with her for another four years. I swear, she’s following us just to be annoying.”

“Tenet’s the most prestigious delving academy this side of the Jagged,” Jordan said amusedly. “And if we qualified, of course she did.”

Natalie made a noise of irritation. “Do you ever get tired of being reasonable? Just let me be annoyed. How aren’t you?”

“I mean, Sofia’s not that bad.”

Natalie gave her an incredulous look.

“She’s a little uppity,” Jordan amended. “But there’s worse a person can be.”

“Sofia is the devil,” Natalie said firmly, “and today is my Unlocking day, so you have to agree with me.”

“Fine. Sofia is the devil.”

Natalie narrowed her eyes. There was a lack of honesty in Jordan’s amused tone… but it would do. For a few moments, they stood next to each other, not-so-subtly watching Sofia. Natalie was surprised she didn’t feel their eyes crawling on her back.

“A devil with a great ass,” Jordan said. “Architect. How’s she get it all in there? Pulleys?”

“Jordan!”

“Oh, don’t sound scandalized. You were staring too. Look at it.”

Natalie opened and closed her mouth at her best friend, who, for the fortieth time in the past two minutes, rolled her eyes, as if Natalie were being ridiculous.

Then a second later, she glanced over Natalie’s shoulder, and the amusement faded. “Ah,” Jordan said. “Here he comes. Looks like it’s time.”

While an Unlocking could happen anywhere, it was tradition to be in the church when it arrived. The lectern on the elevated platform in front of the pews had been moved aside, and a single cushion sat, awaiting Natalie.

“It shouldn’t last more than a few minutes,” Elder Britt said. “It’ll feel longer, but only in your head. When you come back, take as long as you need to compose yourself. We’ll all be waiting.”

Oddly enough, Natalie’s nervousness had disappeared the moment the old, bespectacled priest had arrived to drag Natalie away. The festivities were, obviously, not happening with the church itself, but rather, outside. Exactly as he had said, when Natalie swung open the big church doors to leave—her Unlocking complete—everyone would be lined up, ready to congratulate Natalie.

She’d attended a number of Unlockings on the other side of this event. Some people walked out elated after their Unlocking, some relieved, and once—Daisy Spruill—sheet-white, which Natalie still didn’t have an explanation for. She’d gotten exactly the class people had expected, some variation of Baker, so what had that been about?

“Natalie?”

Natalie startled. She realized she hadn’t replied. “Yes, Elder Britt. Thank you.”

An encouraging squeeze on her shoulder, then Elder Britt departed. The empty church echoed with silence. It was odd, being here, alone, in the dark. Moonlight trickled through the big glass windows, providing just enough illumination to not bump into the pews as she walked down the aisle.

She stepped onto the platform, then stared down at the cushion. She was supposed to sit, and wait. Unlockings arrived at midnight, which would be a few minutes from now, and not a second later; if Natalie were standing, she’d fall. If she were seated, her body would keep itself supported through the fugue.

Feeling a bit odd—and the empty, moonlit church making the experience surreal—she sat down and gazed around at the empty pews. Like most churches, Tinford’s construction was the finest of any building nearby. Tinford wasn’t impoverished, but if a person went by the elegance of the ancient church, they’d assume a level of affluence that was incorrect for the middle-of-nowhere town. She’d been sitting and staring just long enough for her thoughts to wander, when—

*****

Her eyes shot open.

She’d known to expect the sleek metal face, the automaton, but the abrupt transition from real-world to dream-world sent a shiver down her spine. Natalie studied her visitor.

The automaton’s form was androgynous, like all of theirs were. This one leaned a hint more feminine than masculine. Cobalt blue accents traced her body like artfully placed veins, and two of the same stark lines streaked from her upper cheeks and down, to her chin, imitating thick trails of tears. There was a stark inhumanity in her form, despite the similarity—the facade of being a human. She wore an expression of complete detachment, her cobalt irises—the same color as her accents—seeming to gaze through Natalie rather than at her.

Despite her nakedness, her body was smooth and lacking faithfulness to human form. Her breasts were rounded, smoothed down, small humps without the expected tips. Even still, it was a more feminine form than most: enough to suggest ‘woman’ rather than ‘man’.

She exuded a sense of cool detachment. The automaton waited patiently for Natalie to come to terms with what she was seeing. It took a second. Natalie had only seen drawings of automatons, before, and never one in person. They were startlingly rare and only found in cities near dungeon entrances. Even then, Aradon, the capital, only had a smattering.

Nobody knew what the automatons were, or how they’d come into existence, much less the Bestower, the assistant who guided all men and women through their Unlocking. Some said this automaton—not seemingly a kin to the others, for all her appearance—was a god or goddess taken a familiar form. Not a real automaton at all.

Valhaurian teachings had little to say about the Bestower. That, honestly, was one of the eeriest parts. Official Valhaurian teachings had plenty to say about everything. Too much. Plenty contradicting. But the Bestower? Silence. As if it would be blasphemous to theorize.

“Hello, Natalie.”

The automaton’s voice was devoid of emotion. That, also, wasn’t normal. The automatons who managed the Exchange, for example, were supposedly amiable people… if they could be called people.

“Uh,” Natalie finally replied. “Hi.”

Natalie was standing. She’d never stood up from the pillow placed down for her in the church, but she was standing anyway. It had been an instant, unsettling transition. She turned in a circle, taking in her surroundings. There was little to remark on. Unlocking ceremonies were hardly new, and they varied little between person to person, besides what Classes were offered. Natalie had a fair enough idea what to expect.

A black void sprawled around her. She stood on a surface that resembled a black pond. Tiny ripples radiated out with each shifting of her weight. While the material looked like water… there was something off about it. And, obviously, water shouldn’t support her. She didn’t spend long marveling over the oddity of her environment. She had more important things to focus on.

“Do you know why you’re here?” the automaton asked, coolly. Her voice was as impassive as her expression, and only slightly less unsettling.

Natalie had always been irreverent, by nature. Frequently, she failed to find solemnness fitting to situations that deserved it. Here, though, she didn’t need to bite down on a sarcastic reply—it didn’t even rise up. Having a conversation with a maybe-god, and the determiner of the rest of her life, pulled a grave demeanor out of anyone, she guessed. “Yeah,” she said. “You, uh, hand out Classes.”

The Bestower’s lips quirked, and another shiver went down Natalie’s spine at seeing amusement curl—the barest hint—on the automaton’s face. People didn’t talk about the Bestower much, and when they did, it was with more or less what Natalie herself was feeling: distinct unease.

“Hand out Classes,” she—they?—echoed. “Mm. Derivative, but more or less.” She seemed amused by how Natalie had put it.

The Bestower approached Natalie. An arm’s length away, she tilted her head and inspected her. Natalie had no idea what judgments she made. Could this creature read Natalie’s thoughts? Nothing indicated that she could, but the paranoid idea stuck.

“Well,” the Bestower finally said. “Are you ready?”

Natalie nodded, the creature’s scrutinizing inspection of her having left her wordless.

The Bestower stepped to Natalie’s side, then raised a hand in a slow, assured motion. It reminded Natalie of the way Elder Britt might gesture for a congregation to rise. A pillar sprouted from the glassy black water, in pace with the Bestower’s hand, sending ripples shooting across the plane. They bounced harmlessly off Natalie’s shoes. Natalie watched the pillar rise, fascinated.

“I’m afraid I have little variance for you today,” the Bestower said. “You gave me little leeway.”

Gave? It was an interesting way to phrase it, but Natalie didn’t think a question-and-answer was on the table.

“First. The [Berserker].” The pillar finished taking shape, resolving to a plinth with a finely carved great-axe hovering a few inches above it. The plinth, and the axe itself, was the same smooth gray, hewn from the same stone. It rotated in a slow circle, showcasing the entirety of the carving. “A warrior who channels their fury into powerful, relentless attacks. A berserker has incredible offensive potential, but at the cost of defensiveness, and clear-sightedness.”

The Bestower spoke the words in a blank tone. Not bored, but removed, as if she were avoiding inflecting her voice in any particular way, as to keep from influencing Natalie’s decision.

As for Natalie’s thoughts on the offered Class… it was, as she’d known it would be—as everyone had known it would be—a melee-type fighter class.

There was a lot to think about when it came to deciding which of the three choices she would pick. This was, without exaggeration, one of the most important decisions she’d ever make. But she would rather know all of her choices before she got into the weeds. She would avoid puzzling over each as they came. She wanted the whole picture, first.

The Bestower must’ve sensed this through Natalie’s nod, so she moved on. The second pillar sprouted. “The [Juggernaut].” The pillar was the same as the previous, but the symbol was different: this time, a one-handed hammer, and behind it, a tower shield. Like the axe, it rotated in the air, slowly. “A heavily armored fighter, able to endure immense punishment. The cornerstone of a party, and a master of arms.”

The Bestower waited for Natalie to take in her words, then nod. She raised her hand one last time, summoning the last of Natalie’s choices. “Finally,” she said. “The [Adept].” A carving of a fist floated above the plinth. “A student of martial Prowess, with power and agility in equal measure. Weave through attacks while delivering your own. Independent, graceful, and deadly.”

Graceful? Natalie thought. That wasn’t a word she’d use for herself. But not all Classes were a one-for-one. Some deviated from what ‘fit’ with a person… sometimes by a significant amount. Natalie looked at the three options provided to her. They were, more or less, what she’d expected. Even the [Adept] didn’t stray from her current fighting style to a meaningful degree.

Bizarrely, she was disappointed. The choices were underwhelming. Which didn’t make sense; classes were what you made of them. And none of the options seemed bad to begin with. Stock-standard options. The kind found in adventuring parties across the world.

“Or,” the Bestower said. “I could offer you something else.”

Natalie stared at the Bestower, at the sleek automaton of silver streaked with cobalt-blue accents. While Unlockings weren’t often talked about, as most sacred events weren’t, there was little mystery behind them. Everyone experienced an Unlocking, and Natalie’s parents, and Jordan, had told her what to expect.

‘Something else’? A fourth Class choice? There was no such thing. Three options. That was set in stone. Natalie’d never heard of anything different.

“This is an unusual opportunity,” the Bestower said. “And it comes with benefits as well as detriments. Would you like to hear more?”

Natalie glanced at the three pillars—at the three Class choices which had been exactly what she’d wanted, expected, but were somehow, regardless, a disappointment.

“More?” Natalie asked carefully. She was still adjusting to the news, bewildered.

“To hear more won’t bind you to anything.”

“Then… I don’t see why I wouldn’t,” Natalie said, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean, unusual?”

“As I said, it is an opportunity afforded to few.”

“Okay?” The half-answer was unhelpful. Natalie thought it’d been intentionally so. “What is it? The Class name.”

“Mm,” the automaton said. “There lies the detriment. You must accept the Class before knowing.”

Natalie stared. A Class whose details were revealed after accepting? That was… besides being unheard-of… risky. For obvious reasons. “And the benefits are?”

“Potency.” The Bestower paused. “Uniqueness.”

“Potency?”

“More powerful skills than typical.”

For the second time, Natalie reeled at the announcement. Most Class sub-catagories were on the same footing. They were what you made of them. While skills varied, the instances where one’s abilities were much weaker or stronger than any other’s was… well, very, very unusual. As all of this was.

“But I couldn’t know what it is, beforehand,” Natalie repeated.

She didn’t even know where to start with that. It was… insanely dangerous. Accepting a Class, without knowing what it was? It was like jumping into a dark chasm, hoping there was water, and a big pile of treasure, at the bottom.

Except, in a roundabout way, she’d been promised there was treasure—the Class would be strong. The question was how hard the fall would hurt. Would it be a Class wholly unfitting her? Something she wouldn’t be able to make use of, by her nature? Natalie was a brawler; she would make a horrible [Spellweaver], or something of the sorts. Even a [Ranger] she’d be a poor fit for—Jordan had always been ten times the shot she was.

Natalie was good with her hands. In being up-close and personal. Rolling around in a sweaty pile of limbs, in the chaos of a brawl. Honestly, that was almost all she was good at. Most Classes wouldn’t fit well on her.

“I don’t even get a hint?”

“You do not.”

“And… that’s it? No more? Accept, and it’ll be strong, but I can’t know what?”

“Even I don’t know,” the Bestower said.

Which had Natalie blinking. Well… if that was the truth, then she guessed this creature wasn’t the omnipotent Architect, or the Maker. Not that many people believed that in the first place. Just one of many fantastical theories.

“Where did this come from?” Natalie asked. “Why me?”

The Bestower shrugged, which was an oddly human reaction on the thus-far impassive being. “That’s not for me to know, either.”

“Right,” Natalie said. “Okay. Sure.” It was probably too sarcastic of a tone, considering who or what she was speaking to, but her filter was falling away from shock.

She rubbed her face, then looked back at her other three choices. The ones she had expected, and wanted. Sure, they were boring, if she were being honest—and, inexplicably, the smallest bit a disappointment—but a person’s Class didn’t need to be the most amazing thing in the world. Natalie could make great use of a [Berserker]’s skills, or an [Adept]’s. She already had a spot in Tenet, conditional on receiving an adventuring class.

Which startled her with the reminder. “Will it at least be a combat Class? It needs to be.” She couldn’t risk it otherwise. Even if the Class was powerful, Natalie had a path in life she intended to walk, no exceptions. She wouldn’t risk not being able to attend Tenet with Jordan.

The Bestower tilted her head, and Natalie was, oddly, struck by the impression she was conferring with someone. Did gods—or eldritch creatures—have parties? She didn’t see why not, odd as it was to think about.

“It will be a Class with… combat applications,” the Bestower finally said. “That’s the most that will be provided.”

Despite saying earlier Natalie wouldn’t get a hint, the automaton had answered her. Did that mean… she wanted Natalie to accept? Or that someone did? And again, Natalie noted the Bestower’s phrasing. Not, ‘I will provide’, but, ‘will be provided’. It implied something… even if Natalie couldn’t place exactly what.

But the answer had the tension draining from Natalie’s shoulders. A combat Class. Or something with combat applications, whatever that meant. Why had the automaton put it that way?

Honestly, the clarification would fit a variety of Classes. [Mages], to name one. Some [Mages] didn’t become adventurers, instead progressing through study and practice, locking up in collegiums and inventing spell formulae. The Bestower might have phrased it in that way to be specific; the Class could be fully combat functional, but with other uses, too.

Either way, it served her purpose for getting into Tenet. Past that, did it matter? An unheard-of chance for a powerful Class… it was something most people couldn’t dream of. How could Natalie turn the offer down? However strange, or ill-fitting, it might be.

And Natalie had always had an adventurous spirit. She didn’t take the road more traveled whenever possible. The opposite. Something as crazy as this? She felt compelled to accept, regardless the risk. Her only hard criteria had been a combat Class, so she could attend Tenet with Jordan as had been their dream since they were kids. Beyond that… did it matter? But gods, what would it be?

“I have time to think, right?”

“As much as you need.”

That part of her Unlocking, then, wasn’t any different. She’d been told many times she would have plenty of time to consider her options. There was no need to rush into anything. Even Natalie, typically reckless, wouldn’t pick her Class based on how she was feeling in the moment. So. Time to think. “Okay. Just… give me a second.” Natalie sat down cross-legged, closed her eyes to focus, and thought.

In the end, she couldn’t turn the offer down. But coming to that conclusion took a while of just sitting there, running her brain in circles. The Bestower, at least, waited patiently. She didn’t speak a word as the minutes ticked by. Natalie supposed it made sense a deity—or pseudo-deity, or whatever the automaton was—would be endlessly patient.

And honestly, Natalie didn’t think she spent more time deliberating than most, so it wasn’t like the Bestower had to be overly long-suffering. Natalie would never call herself a meticulous person. It was only because of the monumental circumstances—her Unlocking—that she gave the decision the consideration it deserved. Most situations, she’d go with her gut. Jump in with much less forethought than appropriate. The Architect knew Jordan had complained about Natalie’s brashness more than once, through their adolescent adventures across the Entwining Forest.

Natalie sighed, then stood. “Okay,” she said. “I accept.”

An unsurprised nod. Had she known Natalie would agree before even she had? Though, the lack of surprise might just be from a stoic nature. Or disinterest. Natalie might be reading into things. Certainly, the decision Natalie had made wouldn’t be a given for all people. Despite the class being guaranteed to be powerful, not everyone would take it. Not knowing the class you were picking… there was serious risk, there. Even three choices weren’t enough options to make people comfortable.

The plinths holding Natalie’s classes sank into the glass-like water. Natalie’s heart jumped, seeing her potential future vanish, for everything to become so suddenly unknown. She vibrated with nerves.

“So,” Natalie said. “What is it?”

“Goodbye, Natalie,” the Bestower said, turning away.

Natalie blinked, not expecting the response. She opened her mouth to call out—

*****

And her eyes shot open. The empty, moonlit church greeted her. For a moment, she sat there in silence, perched atop the cushion Elder Britt had placed down for her. Her Unlocking had ended, and she didn’t even know what Class she’d received?

She scrambled to her feet. Adrenaline doused her, and she tried to fight through the panic and shock, to wrestle some sort of clear-mindedness back. It took effort. Natalie had never had great control over her emotions. At least the dead-silent church provided no distractions. Okay. So.

The Bestower hadn’t told her what Class she’d got, but there was a way to determine one’s Class and skills. Obviously. Unlockings were a one-time event. How would people know their level and skills as they progressed, without something of the sort?

Looking inward, Natalie quested out. It was something she’d never done before, but everyone with a Class—so, everyone over the age of eighteen—was given a basic skill, [Inspect].

***
Natalie / Level 1
Paladin of Lust
Stats
Furor: F
Tenacity: F+
Prowess: F-
Gear
Weapon Slot 1:

Weapon Slot 2:

Equipment Slot 1:

Equipment Slot 2:

Equipment Slot 3:

Equipment Slot 4:

***

Natalie’s brain locked up. ‘[Paladin of Lust]’? Huh? That was her Class name?

The oddity of having the information placed in her head—at experiencing the [Inspect] skill for the first time—went ignored over the much more shocking item of interest.

[Paladin of Lust]? What in the world? What kind of Class was that?

[Paladin]. That was the easier part to digest. Paladins were, to Natalie’s knowledge, rare, but not unheard-of. They held to a specific god, which their powers were derived from. Or, ‘held’ in a loose sense. Natalie didn’t know if it required actual worship. But paladins revolved around an aspect—a theme—which were tied to a specific god or goddess.

So, ‘Lust’? Who was the god of lust? Truth told, there were too many to keep track of, and Natalie had never paid attention to Elder Britt’s lectures. She knew the Upper Pantheon, of course, because everyone did. But only the most common of the Lower: Setrus, The Trickster, or Thorne, God of the Forge, and so on.

But it didn’t matter who her patron was. What mattered was… what it meant. Implied. And weren’t paladins half-mages? A fighter-mage hybrid was the most accurate way to put it, but paladins were definitely spellcasters, as a whole.

Natalie, a mage? Even as a hybrid, the idea was laughable. Proficiency with magic was so… antithetical to her… that Natalie felt like she ought to laugh.

It was what she’d been worried over, accepting an unknown Class. Getting something unsuited to her. Natalie didn’t know how to cast spells. Classes only amplified, not created from nothing. Even someone without a mage Class could cast a spell, just never to the level of a real mage. It was how places like Tenet sorted for candidates before they reached their Unlocking. Aptitude was proven before a Class was obtained. And Natalie had aptitude in fighting… but definitely not casting.

What had she expected? She’d known it would be a mystery what she received. Honestly, at least a paladin was half a fighter. She fit somewhat with the Class. But Natalie was shying away from the actual problem. The whole… ‘lust’ part. What the hell did it mean? Or entail? Surely not… ? What other interpretations were there?

Natalie didn’t get to stew in silence for long. Adrenaline and shock had masked something obvious from her, but as she came down—slowly, and certainly not all the way—something attention-grabbing forced her focus away from her Class’s name, and all the implications.

Something… somehow even more shocking. Her body. Something had changed. Something between her legs. Something was there, that hadn’t been, before. What? For the second time, Natalie’s brain blanked out. She pulled on her waistband and looked down. The fabric to her pants didn’t yield much, only letting Natalie pull a few inches out, and it was dark inside the moonlit church, but it was enough to identify the problem. To… discern the invader.

The piece of biology that had definitely not been there before. She had a cock. A dick. Tucked into her underwear. It sat there, soft and wrinkly and… dick-like. Dick-ish?

Natalie went dizzy. She let her waistband snap back. Now that she’d noticed the invader, the sensation couldn’t be ignored. She felt it. She felt her pants pressing against it. Maybe someone who’d had one their whole life would be able to ignore the pressure, having grown used to it, but Natalie had never had something pressed against her cock.

“What the fuck,” Natalie said. Natalie didn’t have a habit of talking to herself, but considering the circumstances? She felt she could be excused. The words escaped her mouth without her input. She had a cock.

Her Class had given it to her. Her ‘[Paladin of Lust]’ Class, the impossible fourth option. The gods had given her a cock. As if things hadn’t been strange enough. Even through her paralyzing confusion, she had one question wrestle to the forefront of her mind: But why?

Being given a cock presumably meant Natalie was expected to use it. Why else would it be there? And combined with her Class name, [Paladin of Lust], it seemed an obvious assumption. But what kind of class expected… that?

Somehow, Natalie steadied her swimming thoughts. There was no reason to invent creative ideas behind her situation; she could find out directly. In the same way as she had inspected her name, Class, and stats, a person could inspect their skills. So. That was what she did. She needed answers.

And… something to distract her from the fleshy, sensitive protrusion tucked between her legs. Natalie looked inward, then [Inspected] her skills.

***
[Carnal Harvest] - PASSIVE. PROGRESSION 1. Extract Carnal Energy through {kissing} an aroused target. Harvested energy can be expended through [Empower] and [Advance].

[Empower] - ACTIVE. PROGRESSION 1. Amplify the potency of any ACTIVE or AURA skill by {1.5x}. Expend Carnal Energy equal to mana cost.

[Advance] - ACTIVE. PROGRESSION 1. MAXED. Expend Carnal Energy to progress skills.

[Illusion] - ACTIVE. PROGRESSION 1. Conjure a {mildly} powerful audiovisual mirage to distract or confuse an opponent.

[Heavy Weaponry] - PASSIVE. PROGRESSION 1. Class-bearer is granted a {6-inch} weapon to satisfy and harvest Carnal Energy from chosen targets.
***

If Natalie had thought she’d been stunned before, having her skills inserted into her head redefined the word. She stood there, frozen in surprise. Where to even start? Well. The obvious. Once her brain stopped failing to understand the skills detailed to her, it honed in on one in particular. The culprit behind the changes to her biology. [Heavy Weaponry]

Did it need to have such a humorous name? The skill that had given her a cock was called [Heavy Weaponry]? Really?

And… Natalie was far from an expert on this sort of thing, but the things between her legs didn’t seem like ‘heavy weaponry’. It was still soft, so she couldn’t know for sure, but it didn’t seem that big. The skill spelled it out: six inches. Six was about average, right? Natalie thought. She preferred girls, so she didn’t have any first-hand experience, but still.

Though… Natalie patched two-and-two together. There was an emphasis on the six inches. As in, {6}, the skill had said. Combined with how she had an [Advance] skill, the emphasis must imply that the number would change as she moved the skill to higher ‘progressions’. Her cock would get bigger as she progressed the skill? Uh. She wasn’t sure what to think about that.

More practically (and yes, she was shying away from the previous revelation) was how she had a skill that improved other skills. That wasn’t standard. To Natalie’s knowledge, a skill was a skill. It didn’t change as a person leveled up, and certainly couldn’t be progressed separately from a person’s level and stats. Yet it seemed Natalie herself could, through this… Carnal Energy. ‘Unique, and potent’, the Bestower had said. Certainly both of those, from what she’d seen.

Though Natalie’s recently-bestowed cock was, of course, on the forefront of her mind, she tried to focus on the other aspects of her Class. The skills detailed to her that weren’t as… prevalently noticeable. She went in order.

[Carnal Harvest]. As Natalie suspected, sexual activities were, it seemed, to be a staple in her life. The class title of [Paladin of Lust] had made that clear enough, much as she’d been dreading the proof.

Though, only kissing? [Carnal Harvest] specified ‘kissing’ an aroused target would provide her this… Carnal Energy.

Likely, that was temporary. Kissing had the same emphasis as ‘6’ had had. So as she advanced the skill, she would be able to harvest energy in more… lewd… manners. Intuition told her that she’d receive more energy the more intimate the act was. Huh. What would that progression look like? What was a ‘step up’ from kissing? Fondling? Then what? Penetration? Natalie shook her head to clear it. She needed to focus; speculation could come later. So, sure. She received Carnal Energy by making out with other girls. Whatever.

[Empower] was next. She could increase the potency of her ‘regular skills’ using the energy she gathered?

Though she only had one apparent ‘normal skill’ to do so on, [Illusion]. That would presumably be changing as she leveled up and received more skills. But still. Empowering basic skills through the use of sexual energy. That had the potential of being… strong. Right? Probably. As she’d been promised, accepting this class. Her skills were strong—that was a given. Just…
So weird.

[Advance] she’d already pondered. She moved to the next: [Illusion].

A mage-type skill. Natalie had a mage-fighter hybrid Class, and so she would need to learn how to use the skill to its fullest potential. That was… sure to be a struggle. Natalie might be a good brawler—enough to qualify for Tenet Delving Academy, no easy task—but her casting abilities were, without a doubt, lacking.

Ignoring that, though, the ability to distract a target by conjuring an illusion? Only an idiot wouldn’t see the tactical use of something like that. And it could ‘level up’. Become stronger, by funneling Carnal Energy to the skill, making the illusion more powerful, more attention-grabbing.

So, that was everything. All five of her first-level skills. At a centimeter-deep level, at least. There was so much to think over, for each ability. But… she didn’t have time.

Her friends and acquaintances—Tinford’s residents—were waiting for her. Natalie was given time to deliberate over her granted Class, but they were expecting Natalie to stride out, having received a Class fitting to the life she’d lived. A normal Class. Some kind of fighter. Which was… kind of right. Oh, gods. How did she explain?

She wouldn’t. That was her instinctive reaction. She would lie. Or, omit the relevant details. Then, later, if necessary, she would explain herself. But she couldn’t walk out and describe what she’d actually got. Even saying she’d received a mage-type Class, she wasn’t up for. She needed time to digest. Honestly? She needed time to talk to Jordan. Jordan had always been Natalie’s voice of reason. She could help Natalie figure this out, right?

Natalie was, at least, good at bluster. She strode from the church, her Unlocking completed, with a grin on her face, as if nothing had happened—as if she’d received a Class she’d been expecting. As if she didn’t have a cock between her legs.

Her friends—and a decent portion of Tinford—were there, waiting for her. The cheers came out, and Natalie was pressed in by a sea of congratulating bodies. The mood was infectious, piercing even through the strangeness of what she’d been through. For a second, Natalie pretended the farce wasn’t a farce; she let her Unlocking be celebrated, as if nothing was amiss.

And really, it deserved celebration, didn’t it? Weird her circumstances might be, but she’d received a powerful Class. One even the Bestower had said would be potent, and unique. Natalie didn’t know what to make of it all… but it deserved celebration.

The following minutes passed in a blur. As the ultimate event of the night—and Unlockings occurring at midnight, well past when decent folk had gone to bed—the festivities petered off.

It wasn’t more than a half-hour before Natalie had, rather than following her parents’ home, ended up with Jordan, in her bedroom. That didn’t draw any odd looks, from either her, Natalie’s parents, or anyone else. The two of them had been inseparable since they could string words together. Of course Natalie had ended up in Jordan’s room after her Unlocking. Jordan had ended up in Natalie’s room, back when it’d been hers.

“So,” Jordan said, closing her door, and spinning on Natalie. “What happened? What is it?”

Natalie’s plastered-on facade melted. She stared, distraught, at her dark-haired best friend, not having a clue how to even broach the subject. Of course Jordan had seen through her. That, at least, Natalie had expected. She’d been getting odd looks from Jordan since she’d walked through the church’s double doors. Jordan had always been able to see right through her.

“I got a weird class.” How else would she phrase it?

Jordan wasn’t surprised by the announcement. Because, obviously she’d known something was up, and what else, arriving from the church post-Unlocking?

“Spill it.”

Natalie laughed, then rubbed her face. “I don’t even know how.”

“Start anywhere. What, not a fighter type?”

“It’s, uh. A fighter type.” Then, broaching the least-strange part of her situation, she said, “Fighter-mage mix, looks like.”

Jordan’s eyebrows shot up. “Ah.” Then they furrowed back down. “That isn’t it?”

“Not remotely.”

“I’m waiting.”

“I seriously don’t know where to start.”

Jordan pulled Natalie to the bed, and they sat down. She gave Natalie a serious look. “Start anywhere. We’ll figure it out together. Promise.”

It was hard to explain, really, how the words struck Natalie. She couldn’t articulate why, but they hit her like a thunderbolt. Natalie had to force her gaze away from Jordan’s green eyes. Her heart slammed in her chest, all of a sudden, and it wasn’t even from the imminent conversation—and all the awkwardness, and strangeness, it would entail.

Natalie cleared her throat. “It’s uh. It’s a sex Class.” The lack of grace was intentional. She’d grasped for a way to stop Jordan from staring at her with those intense, concerned eyes, and landed on the absurd sentence.

It worked. Jordan leaned away, taken aback, and said, “What?”

“It’s a sex Class. A, um. Fighter-mage-sex-type Class.” Now that Natalie was saying it out loud, she couldn’t help but be amused at the absurdity of everything. “What? Never heard of them?”

“Excuse me?”

Somehow, Jordan didn’t take offense—didn’t become angry that Natalie was inventing things, deflecting. Because she could tell Natalie wasn’t. Seriously, how did this girl have such a good read on her? She knew Natalie was telling the truth, even when what she was saying was ridiculous—impossible.

“Um.” She shrugged. “Yeah. A sex Class.” Natalie wasn’t timid, normally; it was a state-of-mind drawn out by her insane situation. But in the presence of Jordan, and having had a half hour—not nearly enough, but something—to digest things, she was regaining some of her confidence. “I guess I should start from the beginning.”

Natalie explained. The Bestower, the three options she’d been given, then the bizarre fourth. Her acceptance, then her Unlocking’s abrupt ending—and the skills she’d received. And, of course… the last skill. The weirdest part of everything, somehow. Her cock. She hesitated, not sure how to even broach it. No tactful way, was there?

“And [Heavy Weaponry],” Natalie finally said, after a long pause. “Which, uh, gives me…”

Jordan waited.

“A cock,” she finished. “It, uh, gave me a cock.”

Jordan had absorbed her announcements patiently, with that same concerned, attentive look the whole way through, minimizing her commentary even though she’d visibly had questions. Natalie’s skills were strange, and there were tons of things to talk about for each of them.

Now, though, Jordan stared blankly. “What?”

“Yeah. It gave me a cock.”

“What?”

“Elder Britt’s always going on about how the gods are capricious, isn’t he?” She shrugged. “Guess they’re having a laugh at my expense.” What else would she say?

“A… cock?”

“What, need me to prove it?” The words left her mouth without forethought. The first thing that had popped into her head. “Uh,” Natalie said. “Not that—I don’t mean—“

“Can I?” Jordan asked. A long, frozen moment. Jordan blinked, as if her words, too, had escaped without her thinking about them. “Not that I don’t believe you—?“

“You want to—?”

“Only if—?”

“Really?”

“Uh,” Jordan said. “Just… I believe you… but proof? Would be… nice?”

Natalie wasn’t offended. It was such an insane, mind-bending scenario, wasn’t it? Jordan believed Natalie—but at the same time, proof would help settle things. “Okay. Uh. Yeah?” Natalie said.

It wasn’t like it was weird, or anything. Jordan was her best friend… and sure, both of them preferred girls over boys, but the two of them had never been interested romantically in one another. They were totally comfortable with each other. What was showing off her new cock? Just… part of the explanation.

Natalie unbuttoned her top pants button, hands shaking. Considering that this wasn’t anything sexual, she didn’t understand why her hands were shaking. She was just providing proof. Halfway from shuffling her pants down, about to tug her panties to her knees, she froze. Her cock. It was hardening.

“Um,” Natalie said. Why was she getting hard? She wasn’t aroused. This was… strictly practical in nature. She wanted to prove her bizarre circumstances to Jordan.

Jordan’s eyes were locked to it. She saw how Natalie’s panties were bulging upward as her cock—inappropriately, and without reason—filled the fabric out.

Natalie was mortified. How would she explain this? The proof had been given, at least, without even needing to finish undressing. Because what else would be shoving her panties upward, straining the fabric? But getting hard, in front of Jordan. What excuses did she have?”

Jordan gave one for her. “It’s just… a natural reaction, right?” she said, eyes finally wrenching up to Natalie, as if she’d needed to tear them away. Like before, Natalie was ensnared by Jordan’s understanding eyes. No judgments, there. Jordan had always been a hard girl to fluster. “Keep going? I want to see it.”

Natalie hesitated, but did as she was told. Her cock finished filling out, and as much as to fulfill Jordan’s request, she pulled her panties down to get a sense of what she herself was in for. Because while she’d seen herself soft, tucked into her pants, she hadn’t gotten a chance to inspect it in any depth. By all accounts it looked like her clit had been replaced with a cock.

Her cock sprung forward, escaping their fabric confines. Six inches of girlcock stood proudly at attention, veiny and throbbing in anticipation, anticipation? nothing like that would be happening, and twitching under Jordan’s wide-eyed appreciation.

Appreciation? No, that wasn’t the right word, even if it looked like it, and Natalie had a good read on Jordan’s expression. It was just fascination. Interest of a reserved sort. Spreading her legs wider, Jordan watched her as she pulled the cock to the side and investigated lower. With an awkward forearm pinning the misbehaving cock to her thigh she used her fingers to spread her labia. At least I still have that, she thought.

Straining to get a good angle she bent over and spread her legs wider. It looked like the cock had replaced her clit and urethra, leaving just the gash to her vagina below. Jordan watched silently as she slipped a finger inside, sliding it through her passage to rub against the wall of her g-spot, her cock twitched in pleasure. I guess now when I get horny I get hard and wet, she mused. She let go and discreetly wiped her wet fingers on her thigh as she returned to her upright position, suddenly reminded that she had an audience.

“Wow,” Jordan said. “A-Architect. You… really do.”

“Um.” Natalie had seen her member once before, and had a short time to adjust, so she wasn’t quite as surprised as Jordan… but still, of course, not at ease with the whole situation. “Yeah. I really do. Not making stuff up.”

A cock. Her Class had given her a cock. “Is it…?” Jordan shook her head.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“I was going to say… is it sensitive? It works?”

“Um. I mean. Yeah. I think. I can’t really…?”

“Go ahead. Test it.” Jordan’s eyes were wide, and she was blushing. “We need to figure out what’s going on. I promised you we would, didn’t I?”

Right. She had. Jordan was just helping her figure out the crazy circumstances of her Class Unlocking.

Did her cock work like a normal one? By its realistic sculpting, and pulsing, veiny hardness, Natalie would guess yes. But she couldn’t know for sure, until she’d tested it. There was no ball sack or testicles apparent.

She wrapped a hand around it. She tried to ignore the reality of the situation. That she was sitting there, on Jordan’s bed, with her cock in her hand. She also tried to ignore just how… enraptured Jordan looked. That was just fascination in her eyes, right? Natalie could’ve sworn it was… lust… but that couldn’t be right. Why would Jordan be excited by what she was seeing? Natalie’s cock was thinking for her. Inventing things from her own lust.

Her own lust. She needed to control that. However excited she was by this, it was her cock thinking for her. She and Jordan were just figuring things out. She repeated it to herself like a mantra. Her hand went up, then down, bunching sensitive flesh around her cock head. Natalie sucked in a breath of air.

“Y-Yeah. It’s, uh. Definitely functional.” The pumping motion had sent electricity up her spine. Was it even more sensitive than normal? Were all cocks like this?

“Huh.” Jordan’s blush was pronounced, now, and she’d watched Natalie’s hand go up and down with a rapt fascination. She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts, then looked back up at Natalie. “What do you think it means?”

“Means?” It was hard to think with Jordan looking at her like that. And with her cock in her hand.

“That… your Class gave it to you. You think you’ll need to… use it?”

Jordan was playing catch-up on things Natalie had already puzzled over. Except, Jordan made the same realization Natalie had, and probably faster. She continued, “Because you can advance your harvest skill, right? So it goes from… kissing, to more?”

“I think so.”

Jordan stared at her for a long moment. “Then… we should test the theory.”

She shuffled across the bed, and before Natalie had the opportunity to register what was happening, Jordan was straddling her lap. Her lap. Where her cock was. Jordan was sitting on her cock. Sure, there were layers of clothing in the way… but still. That pressure on her sensitive member was Jordan’s ass.

“If that’s fine?” Jordan breathed.

What was happening? Where had this come from? She and Jordan weren’t interested in each other like that. They weren’t. Jordan was just experimenting. Helping Natalie figure out her Class, and what her harvest ability did.

Either way, Natalie was as caught up in the moment as Jordan. Her hands went to Jordan’s waist, and though she felt like she was on fire, she grinned at her friend. Her nerves thrummed through her, but they emboldened her. Anxiety had always had the opposite effect it should… it spurred her forward, inciting a need to prove something to herself. She didn’t like how Jordan’s proximity was engulfing her, making her stomach squirm. Or the way she was so confused by what was happening. She wanted to take charge.

So her hands dipped even further, then slid behind Jordan, so she had Jordan’s ass in her hands. She tugged the other girl forward, bringing Jordan’s face, and their bodies, scorchingly close. It also had her lower body sliding against Natalie’s cock, too, which almost wrenched a groan from her lips— something she barely forced down.

“Yeah,” Natalie murmured. “Let’s find out.”

Jordan took Natalie’s face in her hands, then closed the last inch.

Soft lips pressed into Natalie’s own. Her mind was on fire, immediately. Natalie wasn’t new to this, but she wasn’t the most experienced, either. And definitely, she’d never experienced this pounding in her chest. Not at this intensity. The fact it was Jordan—her best friend—kissing her erased her thoughts. Natalie leaned forward into the kiss, needing more. She pried open Jordan’s mouth, who eagerly reciprocated.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Natalie recognized the skill ought to work with any sort of kiss, though maybe give less ‘energy’. So why were they getting so worked up? Why were the two of them exploring each other’s mouths so fervently? Sharing saliva and wrestling their tongues?

Jordan’s hips bucked forward, sliding her lower half against Natalie’s cock. This time, heated by the sloppiness of their kiss, she couldn’t stop herself. She groaned into Jordan’s mouth, the friction of Jordan’s panting too intense to ignore. The two of them froze. The noise of pleasure had broken the moment.

“Shit, my parents,” Jordan whispered, pulling back and glancing at the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed, and her pupils blown out. She was panting in excitement. So was Natalie. Jordan looked back. “Um.” She shook her head, then climbed off Natalie. “S-Sorry. I got… I got caught up.”

“That’s fair.” Natalie was doing her best to keep her composure. She’d always taken the lead in… just about everything. This might’ve been the first time Jordan had been so assertive. She guessed the insanity of her Class had mixed things up. They were both confused, right now. “Sorry about,” Natalie gestured, not saying it directly. The moan. Because it’d been kind of loud. Jordan’s parents probably hadn’t heard, but it had definitely been a reminder of what they were doing, and where.

The scorching heat of the moment left. Natalie tugged up her panties, ignoring the way her cock pulsed, ill contained by her underware, teased then ignored. She buttoned her pants, bringing herself back to modesty. Natalie couldn’t believe what had happened. The kiss, as much as how she’d exposed herself to Jordan… and how Jordan had been rubbing herself against Natalie. Against… her cock.

“But, it, uh, worked?” Jordan asked.

Natalie seized the distraction. It was why they’d done all that, after all. Just experimenting. She checked.

***
Carnal Energy: 6
***

Six. Six points of Carnal Energy, whatever that meant. Unsurprisingly, the skill had worked as it had said it would.

Natalie’s thoughts were foggy after the events of the last five minutes, but she forced herself to focus. It was easier than she thought it would be, because for all that her and Jordan’s brief intimacy was intensely distracting, so was discovering how her Class worked. It was something she’d been looking forward to her entire life.

“Yeah,” Natalie said. “It worked. I have… six points?”

She couldn’t help the inflection. Secondary resources weren’t common for a Class. Maybe not unheard of. Berserkers, to her knowledge, had a ‘rage’ resource. And a few others had similar. But it was far from standard, so it wasn’t something she could talk about fluidly… especially when the resource was ‘Carnal Energy’.

“Six points,” Jordan repeated. “And how much can you get done with that?”

“How many skills I can progress?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I’d have to test it.” Her intuition wasn’t giving her any hints. The skills, either, hadn’t said how much energy was required to move a skill from ‘progression 1’ to ‘progression 2’.

“Or you could use it to [Empower] something,” Jordan added. “Though, that seems a waste, in most situations.”

“Better to focus on the long term,” Natalie agreed.

She found it, to be honest, somewhat amusing how pointedly the two of them were ignoring what had happened. She didn’t protest. How caught up in that experiment the two of them had been… it was best they left it behind. She and Jordan were friends, not more.

“Why waste it on strengthening a skill temporarily, when you could do so permanently?” Natalie added.

Jordan nodded, then hesitated. “Well. I could see some uses. Important fights. Might be worth ‘wasting’ some, to scrape out a critical win.”

That was a given. “But in most situations, save for progression,” Natalie clarified. They were on the same page. They nodded in agreement. “I wonder how long the cooldown is,” Natalie said. “On the harvest.”

A pause. Jordan quirked her eyebrow. “Are you asking to go again?”

Natalie smirked. “Only if you want to.”

Jordan read the taunt in her voice. She rolled her eyes. Things seemed to be mostly back to normal… even if Jordan still seemed a bit flustered. Natalie was, too.

“First, figure out how far six points go,” Jordan said. “I’ll help you out, but only if I need to. Because you’re my friend.”

The reminder washed through Natalie. She was, oddly, and for a reason she couldn’t explain, grateful for the confirmation. That their… experiment… had, indeed, been because Jordan wanted to help Natalie figure out her Class. Not more. Sure, she wasn’t blind. They’d gotten worked up. Jordan might’ve been too enthusiastic in the kiss to be wholly ‘practical’. But it was a physical reaction. The same reason Natalie had felt like she was on fire.

She pulled her thoughts back. Testing. Could six points advance a skill? Based on how easy they’d been to earn, Natalie doubted it. But how would it work? Advancing? Would she need the full quantity, all at once? Or could she pour it in, chipping away at the amount needed? Could she tell how far she’d gotten? Was there a cap to how much energy she could store? Did it decay, over time, incentivizing her to spend it, rather than hoard?

Natalie had been told by friends and family these sorts of questions would crop up. There was simply too many specifics in how a skill might work to reasonably fit into a skill description. Experimentation was the only way to discover the answers. Hence why Jordan had been so quick to help Natalie. Experimentation was normal.

“What should I go for, first?” Natalie asked.

She didn’t think six points would be enough to advance a skill, but either way, it was best to be funneling the energy into what she would want progressed first.

“Hm,” Jordan said. “You said [Advance] is maxed, already?”

“That’s what it says.”

She nodded. “Makes sense there’s a cap. And that some skills start at one, and can’t be advanced. What’s best?” She thought about it. “[Carnal Harvest]?”

“What, not [Heavy Weaponry]?” Natalie asked jokingly.

Jordan paused, and her eyes flicked down to Natalie’s crotch. She looked away, then coughed. “Uh. Yeah. It’s pretty… interesting… that you can make it bigger.”

“You can say weird. It’s weird.”

“It’s weird,” Jordan agreed. “How big, anyway? And why would you want it bigger?”

Why wouldn’t she? If Natalie had to have a cock between her legs, she’d prefer if it was a monster. Was that weird? She hadn’t really had time to digest everything.

“Guess I’ll find out. Eventually.” She appreciated how in stride Jordan was taking all this. Natalie had always been able to lean on Jordan, a pillar in her life, and that trend was continuing. “But, uh. Yeah. [Harvest] is probably best. Means more energy, more progression.”

“Though… it won’t just be kissing.”

The two of them paused.

“Not just kissing,” Natalie repeated. “Yeah. I don’t expect you to—obviously I don’t—“

“We’ll figure it out later,” Jordan said, looking away. “And you’re good with girls. So it won’t be… you know… an issue, to find candidates.”

Natalie had never felt awkward talking about her love life before, but now, suddenly, she was. She’d definitely had more success in that front than Jordan had, though Natalie wouldn’t call herself a womanizer. Though, Jordan didn’t seem to care about the idea? Of Natalie hooking up with others. But of course she didn’t. Why would she?

Natalie said, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Go ahead,” Jordan said, brushing past the topic. “Try. Find out.”

Advancing her skill. Right. She closed her eyes. It might not be necessary, but it felt like the right thing to do. She focused inward, in much the same way as she’d used her [Inspect] skill. Having recently unlocked her Class, she didn’t know, fully, what she was doing. She’d heard talk throughout her life about how these things worked, but hearing was different from doing.

Fortunately, it worked like she expected. Focusing her intent, her desire to use her [Advance] skill and funnel the energy she’d gathered toward [Carnal Harvest], some enigmatic force sagged from her: the energy funneled into the skill in the manner she wanted.

There was no direct indicator. Nothing concrete, as an [Inspect] might provide. But, she felt something. A benchmark of sorts. Her [Carnal Harvest] skill filled up, an abstract sense of an orb being filled with pink energy. The liquid sloshed up to a point and Natalie’s harvested energy ran out.

“Huh,” Natalie said. “Feels like around a sixth?” She couldn’t tell exactly how much, but around forty ‘points’ seemed like the number she’d need to reach. “So it’d take quite a few more… kisses.” The sentence had barreled out of her, before she realized what it might sound like. That Natalie was asking for more.

“Hm,” Jordan said. A long pause. “Well,” Jordan said. “Then I guess we should find out if there’s a cooldown.”

There was a cooldown. Natalie and Jordan’s second make-out session didn’t provide further energy. They did, at least, keep better control of themselves. Jordan hadn’t mounted Natalie in her excitement, and while Natalie had definitely gotten hard again, she wasn’t naked from the waist below, so Jordan was spared from the physical proof of how excited Jordan’s tongue wrestling made her. Kissing her best friend. It really shouldn’t be so much fun.

Natalie cleared her throat. “Yeah. There’s one. A cooldown.”

“That makes sense.”

Did she sound disappointed, or was Natalie imagining things? “So,” Natalie said. “Looks like it’ll take time to progress.”

“Not that long,” Jordan said. “Only need a few more, to get to the next stage. Plus, I bet it’s because it’s me.”

“Huh?”

“It might not be an absolute cooldown. Might be independent to each person.”

“Oh. So, like, every girl has their own?”

Jordan shrugged. “It’s the first thing that came to mind.”

She didn’t sound bothered by that. Though, why would she? It wasn’t like she and Jordan were a thing. What would she care about Natalie and someone else coupling up?

Ugh… these kisses of theirs were definitely leaving Natalie more of a confused mess than they should. She needed to rein herself in. They didn’t mean anything. Natalie didn’t want them to mean anything. She liked what she and Jordan had. Best friends, since forever. She wouldn’t risk that for anything

“Guess I’ll have to figure it out.”

Jordan nodded, still unconcerned. Natalie had a good read on her; she really must not care if Natalie was with someone else. Whether that was because she had open views on relationships, or because she didn’t have feelings for Natalie…

Of course she didn’t have feelings. What was Natalie thinking? Ugh. Kissing another girl had never left her a mess like this. Receiving her Class had left her more disoriented than she’d thought. And Jordan’s kisses. Why was she so good at them? Natalie thought Jordan had only had one or two partners. Why was she so good, then? Pull it together.

“Later, though,” Natalie said. “Uh. So. Letting Tenet know is going to be weird. Hope it’s not a problem.”

“Being a mage hybrid Class?” Jordan said.

Natalie nodded; the lewder parts of her Class, she just wouldn’t divulge.

“Hm,” Jordan said. “Paladins are more fighters than they’re casters, aren’t they?”

“I guess it depends?” Natalie, like Jordan, had spent plenty of time learning the endless amount of common adventuring Classes. But there were too many to know in depth. There were as many Classes as there were grains of sand on a beach. Infinite, more less… though maybe not actually. “I think most [Paladins] are more fighter than mage? But even if it’s just a small part of my kit…”

“You’ll figure it out,” Jordan said firmly. “It’s not your strength, but that’s fine. You’ll work through it. If there’s anything you’re good at, it’s persevering.”

For a second, Natalie held Jordan’s serious gaze. The words washed through her, comforting in a way even her parents couldn’t have managed. How did Jordan say something like that with such confidence? Like she knew what she was saying was right. That she wasn’t trying to be comforting, but speaking with total conviction. No doubt in her mind. A foregone result. Natalie would figure out her ill-fitting Class, and that was that.

Natalie glanced away. “Yeah. I guess. Thanks.”

“You’ll just have to be extra good at punching people, until then,” Jordan said, bumping shoulders.

Natalie laughed. “I can manage that, at least.”

Jordan smiled, too. A brief silence. “[Paladin], though. That’s going to be interesting. Having a patron. Is that how it works?”

“No clue. Probably? Who do you think it is?” Natalie asked.

“Hm.”

Jordan wasn’t especially religious, the same as Natalie, but she absorbed information better than Natalie did. She always seemed to know what was going on, when it came to anything. Even half-zoned out, their weekly congregations at the church left more lingering knowledge in Jordan than it did Natalie. She might know who the ‘goddess of lust’ was.

Jordan had always been a sponge when it came to academics. Natalie might have cheated her way through classes using her, once or twice. She’d determined not to do so at Tenet… not that academics were particularly a focus, there.

“Niemh?” Jordan finally said. “Goddess of love and passion? That seems most likely. Could be others. Ffien, of beauty? Some interpretations have her as an icon of lust. Eyrlis, fertility and agriculture?”

“Eyrlis is Upper Pantheon,” Natalie protested.

“And?”

Natalie paused. She didn’t know where she was going with that. It just seemed absurd for Natalie’s patron to be Upper Pantheon.

“Not that it matters who it is,” Natalie said. “Paladins and gods don’t convene. Not literally.”

Jordan paused. “Well. The gods are silent, but that they did exist at some point seems beyond reproach. So maybe worship is required? That they’d… what, disown you, if you didn’t?” She hesitated. “But probably not. Dunno.”

There was merit to what she was saying… certain records were convinced that deities once roamed and interacted with sapient life… but Natalie wasn’t so sure. Ancient texts were nothing if not unreliable. She didn’t know if she bought into the divine, as blasphemous as it might be to say. Just, there weren’t any recent records of such. Even [Paladin] Classes, while holding to certain gods, never spoke to them. And who else, if not a paladin? Or a priestess, she guessed. But the same argument applied.

“Yeah,” Natalie said. “I guess.” It wasn’t the time to get into that.

Jordan collapsed back into her bed, splaying out. “I can’t believe we’ll be heading off to Tenet in a week. You’re really cutting it close with your birthday.”

“I’ll let my parents know they should’ve been more considerate with their timing,” Natalie said dryly.

Jordan snorted. A brief pause.

“I guess I should be heading back,” Natalie said. Her parents would be expecting her. They’d known Natalie would hang out with Jordan, briefly, to celebrate, but she still had a curfew, even if it was her Unlocking. With how much trouble Natalie got in on a regular basis, a curfew was inevitable. And while she wouldn’t be afraid to break it, and annoy her parents, now wasn’t the night. Might as well keep the peace for the week left until she shipped off to Tenet.

Plus… she needed time to think. Jordan’s presence was distinctly not putting Natalie at ease, like it normally would. Or, it was, but it also wasn’t. Seeing her laid out across her bed, shirt bunched half way up her stomach… their experimental kisses had Natalie’s thoughts turning in directions they really shouldn’t.

“Ah,” Jordan said. “Right. Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Tomorrow,” Natalie said. “But yeah, they’re waiting. Should get going. And I’m pretty tired.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Jordan said with a nod, reading Natalie as easily as she always did. Except… not wholly, because it wasn’t just Natalie’s Class that had her head spinning. “Try to get some sleep. There’s plenty of time to figure things out.” She sat up, then patted Natalie’s knee. “And you have me, to help. Don’t forget that.”

Natalie didn’t think she could.

*****

“I can’t believe my baby’s all grown up,” Mom wailed, clutching onto Natalie’s arm. “The house'll be so empty. You promise you’ll write? Promise me.”

Natalie rolled her eyes. Mom had always been dramatic… but Natalie guessed if there was ever a time for it, it would be Natalie shipping off to Tenet. Still, it was embarrassing.

“I’ve said it a hundred times, haven’t I?” Natalie extricated herself from her mother’s clinging embrace. “And it’s only a few months till break. I’ll be back in no time.”

“You better be,” Mom said firmly. “And you better take care of yourself. And Jordan and Sofia. I’ve heard so many stories of the dungeon… promise me you’ll be safe.”

“I’ll be safe,” Natalie said for the millionth time. “It’s definitely not part of the plan to become monster food.”

Mom swatted her shoulder. “Don’t even joke!”

“Sorry.” Natalie adjusted her backpack strap, settling the weight. Her suitcase was set behind her; the two bags were all Natalie would be bringing with her to Tenet. “I’ll be fine. Seriously. Relax.”

In the background, a train whistle pierced the air. Natalie glanced its way, then said, “I should get going.”

Her dad had been standing stoically by, watching Mom make an embarrassment out of the two of them. Despite his calm exterior, Natalie could see the hint of sadness in his eyes, too. Natalie’s train signaling it was time to board, he stepped forward and hugged her goodbye. “We’ll miss you, Nat,” he said gruffly. “You’ll do great things. But keep yourself safe. Go slow and steady. All that matters is you make it back.”

Natalie hugged him. She hadn’t thought she’d get so emotional over this… she’d been waiting to escape Tinford since she was eleven. Her voice wasn’t choked up when she replied, “Like I said, I will.” She pulled away and cleared her throat, glancing to the side. “They’re boarding. Um. Bye, then.”

She waved her parents goodbye, then scooped up her suitcase and departed. A glance over her shoulder, and she saw her parents standing there, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, Mom leaning her head against Dad’s shoulder, watching her go. Natalie cleared her throat a second time, then focused her attention forward.

They’d needed to travel to Illesa to catch the train. Tinford was too small a town to have a station; even Illesa was barely large enough to justify the routing. Valhaur’s capital city Aradon was three hundred miles to the north. It would be a several hour trip.

Which was insane. Hundreds of miles in five hours. That sort of trip would’ve taken a week or more on foot, assuming good weather and traveling light. The Magitech Insitute was changing the world at a rate hard to comprehend. Though, in a town as small as Tinford, Natalie hadn’t gotten much chance to see their fantastical inventions. She’d only heard of them. Progress came slow to outskirt towns like Tinford.

Natalie would have plenty of opportunity to see how the world was advancing, now. Aradon, and Tenet, would be stuffed full of the Institute’s inventions. Even the train itself was fascinating, unlike anything she’d seen. It was constructed with enormous, complex mechanisms… but more importantly, covered in glyphs, the swooping, arcane symbols responsible for manifesting magical energy into the physical world.

In the engine room, Natalie knew, monster cores were hooked up to fuel the vehicle. Batteries. Monster cores which delvers were responsible for gathering… Natalie’s future career. It was a bit surreal to think about. How many cores, and what quality, did it take to run this mountain of metal? Natalie glanced at her ticket as she shuffled along with the other boarding passengers. Cabin 18A.

Mom and Dad, along with Jordan’s and Sofia’s parents, had pooled their funds to buy the three of them a private cabin for the trip up to Aradon—a going-away gift. Natalie was flattered, but also, she couldn’t help but feel like it was a waste. So much money… it couldn’t have been easy for them to scrape the funds together, even splitting it three ways. Natalie wouldn’t have minded sitting in the cramped public cabins. Her parents weren’t destitute, but they weren’t well off.

She might be able to change that, if Natalie’s future went well. Delvers earned exceptional money… or, the non-low-level ones. Assuming Natalie didn’t turn into monster food, as she’d joked about to her parents, then by the time she left Tenet in four years, a single delve would be a month of their pay, or more. Wealth was one of the main motivators for why people flocked to the dungeons.

Natalie had an advantage, at least, in that she’d been accepted to Tenet. Some people starting delving without any professional training, or preparation of any sort. Desperation, usually. The mortality rates weren’t low even for skilled delvers, so for those cases… even less so. Natalie’s chosen profession had a grim reality to it; it didn’t pay so well without reason.

Her parents’ insistence that Natalie keep herself safe had been justified. Especially since they knew Natalie wasn’t the most careful of individuals. They were ecstatic Jordan had qualified along with her. They’d made a few comments about how she’d keep Natalie out of trouble. Which… Natalie would see about that. Jordan did have a moderating effect on Natalie, but she hadn’t managed to ‘keep Natalie out of trouble’, growing up. Why would it be different now?

Natalie was almost at the front of the line. She looked around, shifting in place as she waited, and caught a glimpse of white hair. Sofia had always stuck out in a crowd. Her hair, mostly. White wasn’t a common color, down in Valhaur. The culprit was Sofia’s Theliosian blood, the snowy, mountainous nation to the north of Valhaur. Natalie didn’t know the exact circumstances behind how she’d been adopted by the Kipper family.

She was pressed in by her siblings and parents, who were, in much the same way Natalie’s mom had been, wailing over her departure. Natalie didn’t understand how such an annoying, smug girl had a family so bright and cheerful. She stuck out in the mass of brown-hair and tanned skin. Sofia’s hair wasn’t the only thing blindingly white about her… she had the skin of a Theliosian too. Theliosians didn’t tan like Valhaurians; they just burned. Teasing Sofia over it was one of Natalie’s favorite things to do. The fact she had to put on sunscreen to avoid roasting was something she was definitely annoyed by, much as she pretended not to be.

Natalie reached the front of the line, and she turned her attention to the attendant, handing him her ticket. She boarded.

Jordan was already in the cabin. She looked up from her novel—Jordan was always lugging around something to read—saw her, then tucked a bookmark in and set the book to the side.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Natalie returned, shrugging off her backpack and sitting across from Jordan. “This place is roomy.”

“First class. They’re sending us off in style.”

Natalie wrinkled her nose, her earlier thoughts—that she appreciated it, but was a waste of money—flickering into her head. But she didn’t comment. The money had already been spent, and she didn’t want to come off as an ingrate. “Sofia’ll be here, soon,” Natalie said. “Saw her saying bye.”

“Mm.” Jordan seemed amused. “Five hours together. Think you’ll survive?”

“I’ll have to.” But she wasn’t looking forward to it. With luck, they could just ignore each other.

“You know, we’re lucky she qualified, too.”

Natalie raised her eyebrows.

“We are,” Jordan insisted. “You’ve heard the stories. Tenet’s cutthroat. The whole place is a… a whetstone. For delvers. It’s not a friendly place. Having Sofia there, a second ally, someone we can trust… that’s more fortunate than you’re admitting.”

“Sofia. An ally.”

“C’mon, Nat. I know you two are bristly, but we’re in this together.”

“You think she thinks that? Sofia’ll dump us the moment it benefits her.”

Jordan frowned. “You can’t believe that.”

Natalie’s first response—that she did believe that—fizzled up. She sniffed. “Well. Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I think she’ll throw herself on a sword for us.”

“I’m saying she’s an ally,” Jordan said, rolling her eyes. “Not our blood-sworn subordinate. Allies will be useful to have at Tenet.”

“Sure. I guess. But she’s out to make a name for herself, first and foremost.”

“And we aren’t?”

“I mean… not first and foremost. It’s just up there. Obviously you’d come first, if something happened.”

Jordan paused, then glanced away. “Well, yeah.” She cleared her throat. “You too. That’s a given.” She tilted her head, peaking into the hallway. “Ah, she’s here.”

Sofia walked in. Or, strode in. Sofia had always moved with a certain… arrogance. Some people would call it confidence, but Natalie knew better. Her squared shoulders and lifted chin were intentional; Sofia showcasing, through body language, what she thought of everyone else… and her position relative to them.

She was dressed comfortably, in jeans and a loose, frilly pale blue shirt. That was hardly a rare event, but Natalie had grown used to seeing Sofia in adventuring gear: leather armor, with a weapon at her hip. Usually a rapier. Sofia had always preferred a more elegant style of fighting than Natalie. They were both close-combat fighters, but inside that category, they couldn’t be much different.

Sofia was a short girl, shorter than Natalie by a significant amount, and a bit more than Jordan, who was an average height. Something about the way she held herself didn’t make her seem short, though. She had a presence twice her size. A distinctly annoying presence. These days, just the sight of her irritated Natalie.

“Natalie. Jordan.” Her words were crisp, deliberately so. Sofia had always been someone who cared too much about appearances. Her neatly trimmed eyebrows, perfect hair, and outfit gave it away. Natalie had always thrown on whatever she had available; she’d never cared whether what she was wearing was fashionable. What kind of adventurer did? “The day’s finally arrived.” Sofia’s piercing blue eyes surveyed the cabin. “I’m glad all three of us made it.”

Natalie snorted. She saw the dig. “Came as a surprise that I did, did it?”

Sofia spared a glance for her, then sat down on the opposite end of Jordan’s bench, next to the window. She tucked her backpack underneath the seat. “Sensitive as always. I was being genuine.”

Another snort. Jordan gave Natalie a look. Natalie had seen it before; ‘play nice,’ Jordan was saying.

Natalie guessed for the sake of keeping the peace, she’d try. Even if Sofia had been the one to start it. A five hour trip would be miserable if she and Sofia were bickering the whole way. And bickering might be ninety percent of their relationship, but stuck in a confined space, together, it would quickly become a headache for everyone involved.

And there was some truth to what Jordan had been saying. Sofia wasn’t their friend, but the three of them were from Tinford. They’d grown up together; their parents were friends. That counted for something. The train shuddered, then started to move. Sofia must have been one of the last to board. She’d cut it close.

“So,” Jordan said. “I was wondering if the three of us could talk practicals.”

“Meaning?” Sofia asked.

“Our plans. For Tenet. Are we teaming up?”

“In what regard?”

Jordan shrugged. “Well. You’ve heard the stories. Tenet isn’t all delving and training. There’s cliques. Politics. Seeing how we’re all nobodies, we should stick together.”

“I presumed we would. It needs clarification?”

Jordan gave Natalie a sideways glance—‘See?’ it said. Natalie fake-sneered at her. Sure, whatever. Sofia wasn’t a snake, she was just annoying. Natalie had already admitted that.

“But delving?” Jordan asked. “I realize that’s more than a week away, before Tenet lets us into the dungeon, but tentatively? Assuming we don’t work out something better.”

“With two fighters and a rogue?” Sofia asked.

“It’s not ideal,” Jordan said. “But Nat…” she trailed off, shooting a concerned look Natalie’s way.

Natalie rolled her eyes, then said, “You can tell her.” Natalie hadn’t come clean to the rest of Tinford, but it wasn’t like she would be able to hide it from Sofia. They’d be rubbing shoulders for the next four years.

“Nat’s Class isn’t wholly a fighter type,” Jordan said. “She got a [Paladin] Class. So, more a versatile tank, than anything.”

Sofia’s eyebrows shot up, and she looked, incredulously, at Natalie.

Natalie crossed her arms, unable to stop herself from getting defensive. “I’ll figure it out, okay? Not my forte, or whatever, but that doesn’t matter.”

“A [Paladin],” Sofia repeated. “You. A mage hybrid.”

Natalie sneered at her.

“I’m just surprised,” Sofia said. “How did that happen? And why am I just learning it?”

“Because you’re my first confidante, are you?”

“I mean, that you lied. To everyone else. Didn’t you? Why?”

Natalie’s squeezed her crossed arms tighter. Because of this, she didn’t say. Sofia’s incredulous reaction to what everyone would’ve known was an ill-fitting Class… it would’ve been mirrored a hundred times over, by other residents of Tinford. Even Mom and Dad, probably.

“I didn’t lie,” Natalie said. She’d simply… omitted relevant details.

“The point is,” Jordan said, interrupting the tension. “That a [Paladin], a [Duelist], and a [Rogue] isn’t a horrible composition.”

“It could be worse,” Sofia said coolly, turning to Jordan. “But it’s not ideal.”

“Sometimes we don’t get ideal,” Jordan said. “It’s what we make of things. And again. No hard commitments. But we’ve worked with each other. Know each other’s styles, habits. That’s important in a team. Maybe more than a perfect composition.”

“Mm,” Sofia said. “I’m still caught up on the paladin thing. What sort of skills did you get?”

The first thing that popped into Natalie’s head was the… less appropriate skills she’d received with her Class. But obviously those were staying a secret to everyone but Jordan. If the three of them were working on the assumption their first delves would be together, then Sofia would need to know Natalie’s skills, but only the relevant ones. She’d learn them, regardless, during spars and training.

“An illusion,” Natalie said.

“An illusion?” The raised eyebrows were back. “Not a heal? Or an empowerment?”

“Not a standard paladin, I guess.” Not that a ‘standard paladin’ existed. It was a rather varied Class. It depended on the god, or aspect, one received.

“Who’s your patron?” Sofia paused, then huffed. “You. A paladin. With a patron. So ridiculous.”

Natalie agreed, but she took offense, anyway. “That’s none of your business.” Not that Natalie even knew who her patron was. There were a few options for who a ‘goddess of lust’ could be. None were given the title outright, at least, not from what Natalie’s research had shown. It could be any of several… the goddess of love, or fertility, or, in some interpretations, wickedness and sin. Again, it didn’t really matter. The skills she received, she received. Didn’t matter what her patron’s name was.

“I suppose not,” Sofia said. “What else?”

“The illusion’s the important one.” And, unfortunately, the only practical one. It wasn’t the best level-one starting kit. But if Natalie had had something else, like a skill that made her faster, or stronger, it wouldn’t be something she’d need to divulge to Sofia. Teammates were expected to share the general strokes—the key skills they’d be interacting with—but not their entire kit. Some did, of course. It just wasn’t a hard requirement.

“Hm,” Sofia said. “Either way, an illusion sounds versatile. But you’ll need to practice.”

Natalie bit her tongue on a retort. “Yeah. I will.” Sofia had a way of sounding condescending, even when it wasn’t her intent.

“It’s a shame your Unlocking happened so close to intake day,” Sofia said. “You didn’t have much time to adjust.”

Yeah. That was definitely a problem. Natalie would rather not have been reminded of it. “I’ll figure it out,” Natalie repeated, half a mutter. She’d been experimenting with the skill for the past week, and not made much progress. She wasn’t, as she’d mentioned, a natural when it came to spell casting.

The solution was obvious. She’d just have to make up for it in other ways. Other ways. The… stranger parts of her Class. Natalie would need to make the most of them.

*****

They arrived to Aradon just past noon. The three of them collected their belongings and set off for Tenet.

Walking through the busy streets of Aradon was a spectacle. She had never seen anything like the tall, vibrant architecture that packed Valhaur’s capital city. What surprised her most was the sheer density of everything. The buildings weren’t the only thing cram-packed; the people, too, swarmed the streets, milling about their daily lives.

Natalie felt out of place. Even Illesa had seemed like a big city compared to Tinford, but here was a real city. More people streamed through this one street than all of Tinford might hold. It was chaotic. As expected of the most populous city in the country. It was, after all, a civilization built atop a dungeon entrance… one of only thirteen on the continent, a resource so important a major city was built around each one. Of course half the world—or what felt like it—had settled around this one.

Fortunately, the throng cleared out as they approached Tenet’s gated entrance. The three of them provided their names, and the guards checked a list then let them through. It wasn’t a high-security set up, just enough to keep Aradon’s general populace out. The Delving Academy was located deep in the city, not more than a ten minute walk from the dungeon entrance.

The guards provided directions, though they were redundant considering the signage everywhere. Today was intake day, and Natalie, Sofia, and Jordan weren’t the only ones lugging around backpacks and suitcases, seeking out their varying destinations. The newbies were obvious, compared to the regulars, the delvers who’d completed one or more years already. Natalie noted a mixture of expressions sent their way: amusement, annoyance, sometimes disdain. Natalie gave dirty looks right back to those who provided the last. She’d never been a person to ignore that sort of thing.

Which might cause problems for her, making the wrong enemies. While she, Sofia, and Jordan were nobodies, that wasn’t usually the case for a place like Tenet. The Delving Academy was as old as the dirt it was built atop. It’d existed for thousands of years… because there’d always been need to train delvers. The dungeon had provided for the citizens of Valhaur, and the continent, since forever. Its student body, therefore, was similarly prestigious.

And sure, the Academy might not always have been these tall, gleaming stonebrick buildings, with well-maintained greenery and elegant magitech lamps scattering the pathways across the campus, but it’d existed in lesser forms. Like Aradon itself, it’d grown and grown, until it was one of the premier fixtures on the continent.

It was intimidating. Natalie still couldn’t fully believe she’d qualified… that all three of them had. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Natalie had grown up hearing about how talented she was, but still. Tenet was for… prodigies might be too strong of a word, but only the best and most promising of applicants. That all three of them—from the middle of nowhere—had been accepted really was an unusual thing.

The signs, and the guards’ directions, led them to an in-processing building. There, Natalie was separated from Jordan and Sofia as the three of them went about their administrative duties. Eventually, Natalie, having properly registered with Tenet and documented her arrival—and received an I.D. that verified she was permitted on campus—set off to the dormitories.

Dormitories was the wrong word. First-semester students started out in barracks—communal living areas that housed twenty to forty Tenet students each. That was obviously a lot of bodies to pack into a space, no matter how big… and the barracks weren’t big. Students’ introductions to Tenet were intentionally uncomfortable. All the more to encourage them to escape, using the token system. Incentives. Tenet was all about incentives, urging aspirational delvers to work harder, out-pace their peers… earn more, compete. A whetstone, Jordan had called the school.

Communal living, though. A few days ago—before her Unlocking—Natalie hadn’t been stressed by the idea at all. She wouldn’t call herself shy, or uneasy around large groups of people. She’d figured it would be annoying, definitely, but not anxiety-inducing—not something she was worried about. A temporary problem. She’d be able to move out soon enough, and really, what would she care if other people saw her half-dressed or naked as she went about her morning routine?

Obviously, a new problem had presented itself, there. The changes to her biology that had come with her Class. With that development taken into account, the idea of living with dozens of other girls in a cramped, communal space was far more daunting. Because even if she was careful to not reveal her secret, she might be found out, anyway.

By accident. Say, in the morning. When she pitched a tent, completely unwillingly… which Natalie had discovered she did, without fail. The new equipment between her legs wasn’t considerate in the slightest. With a blanket covering her, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, but if she threw the covers off at night? Natalie might give herself away. Which wouldn’t be the end of the world, but would introduce some questions—from a variety of sources—that Natalie would simply rather not answer. The odd, lewd details to her Class, she’d prefer if nobody discovered besides Jordan. Not to mention the embarrassment. Getting caught with morning wood would have plenty of that, just by its own.

Maybe it was happening each morning because she wasn’t taking care of it. For the past several days leading up to ship-off day, she’d been pretending it didn’t exist. Jordan, too, hadn’t brought it up much… though they’d been kissing once a day for the past week, harvesting energy. That was its own mess. Natalie didn’t let her thoughts linger on how much she liked those kisses.

What a situation to be in, right? Natalie hadn’t come to terms with it. In the frenzy of the past two days, preparing to ship off for Tenet, and in the wake of her unexpected, intimate interactions with Jordan, Natalie had pushed the rather important thing between her legs to the back of her mind. She’d have to come to terms with it, eventually. Both mentally, and practically speaking. Just, she wasn’t sure where to begin… and pretending nothing had happened was so much easier.

Its introduction, too, had made her eyes start snagging to the curves of women with even more frequency than they had before—and Natalie had never been the most reserved girl in the first place. Though, it wasn’t something impossible to put out of mind. She could ignore the inappropriate thoughts. And thankfully, it wasn’t so big it couldn’t be physically hidden, either. Loose pants had done wonders for her. Thankfully, a relaxed style had already been her standard when it came to fashion.

Taking a deep breath, ready to meet her twenty-to-forty temporary roommates, Natalie walked into the squat, rectangular building that served as the first-year’s barracks.

*****

‘First-year barracks’ wasn’t a wholly correct way to describe the accommodations. Technically, there weren’t any policies mandating that a person bought their way out of the shared living space, not that Natalie knew of. So there could be second-years, or fourth, for that matter.

But any reasonable person would get out of the barracks as soon as possible. Even the most long-suffering didn’t want to be crammed in with dozens of other students, especially in what wasn’t so much a room as a long hall lined shoulder-to-shoulder with beds and lockers.

Natalie had arrived late, relatively speaking. Tinford was in the far south of Valhaur, and the five-hour train-ride was longer than the vast majority of students had needed to travel.

Walking slowly in, wearing her backpack and lugging her suitcase in one hand, Natalie scanned her surroundings, looking for Jordan. There were no guarantees they’d be roomed together. Considering the size of the barracks, though, there weren’t horrible odds. Natalie didn’t have an idea how big Tenet’s first year student-intake was, but surely not more than a few hundred. Which still meant roughly eight barracks of this size. So not great odds, either. But random chance might bless them. Natalie tried not to get her hopes up, because she doubted they’d land the one-in-eight dice toss. She’d never be so lucky.

Peering around, hopes deflating, she didn’t see Jordan’s black hair tied up in a bun. And even worse than that… something else caught her eye. Hair, of a more distinct, recognizable quality. White hair. Natalie barely didn’t groan. Sofia. Of course she’d gotten placed in Sofia’s barracks.

And, as Natalie finished looking around the long hall with growing dread, she realized something else. All of the beds were claimed. Not all had their occupants present, but all were claimed. Literally. Every single one, besides a single. Natalie was the last of the barracks suite to arrive—and Sofia had been second to last. And guess where the only open bed was?

Natalie couldn’t quite fight off the groan, understanding the fate that had befallen her. The nearest student—a short girl with brown hair—gave her an odd look, which forced Natalie to compose herself. It was best she didn’t earn a reputation for eccentricity that fast after arriving.

The event was organic, not coincidence. As the last to arrive because of their long trip from Tinford, she and Sofia had received the two least-desired beds of the grouping—the ones in the middle of the rows, and directly beneath the cooling glyphs engraved into the ceiling. Not only would the hum of magic be the most audible there, she and Sofia would be getting blasted with cold air whenever they were active. Considering they were in a Valhaurian summer… pretty often. Not to mention the foot traffic, being sandwiched in by everyone.

Natalie sighed. Honestly, all of the above didn’t bother her. She’d been braced for misery, coming to Tenet. Hardship was one of the appeals, even. She was starting her future as a delver… and delvers didn’t have easy lives. This was more or less what she’d expected. But why Sofia?

Well. Looking on the bright side, it wasn’t like Natalie would be at the barracks often. She’d be out training, studying, or otherwise being productive. With forty roommates, she doubted anyone would be spending much time here, besides for sleeping.

As Natalie walked down the long barracks hall, she took in the living space in greater detail. There was an economy of design in the layout… because how else would they cram everyone shoulder-to-shoulder?

Each student had a slightly elevated bed (where underneath, it seemed, shoes were going), a locker, and a chest at the foot of their bed. Not much storage space, hence Natalie’s—and everyone else’s—limited luggage. The locker, one of which Natalie could see inside as she walked toward her inevitable fate, was fairly deep, and had a rod plus provided hangers to hang clothes from. There was a mirror inside, and a glyph for producing light. Also, several drawers of varying sizes. All in all, about what she’d expected. Simple accommodations.

The chest probably wasn’t worth mentioning. There were locks and keys for each. It was where anything valuable would go. Though, Natalie doubted there were many thieves at Tenet. Of the mundane sort, she meant… there might be a few [Thieves] of various sorts.

As she’d already mused over, only a tiny portion of their student base were in Natalie, Jordan, and Sofia’s situation… which was to say, not obscenely rich. The kinds of people qualifying usually had generational wealth—and training—behind them, helping them reach this point. Why would they steal anything? But still. A lockbox was nice to have, for peace of mind. Even if she didn’t have anything valuable monetarily, she had sentimental belongings whose safety she’d want ensured.

The bed was tiny, though enough to fit a single person comfortably. The sheets were made with crisp edges. Natalie wondered how long that would last—the sharp, organized condition of everything here. Sure, Tenet had policies for keeping their living spaces in good condition, but they weren’t, to her knowledge, overly strict.

The similarities to a military academy were visible, but Tenet wasn’t such, not actually. She might be required to make her bed in the morning, but there wouldn’t be drills, or instructors inspecting for the smallest infraction. That wasn’t, ultimately, what Tenet was here to encourage. Conformity wasn’t the goal. Conformity was the opposite of the goal. They wanted students who stood out as starkly as possible.

Despite the cramped layout, the quality of everything was outstanding. The barracks sparkled, floor to ceiling. There wasn’t a single scuff-mark or patch of discolored paint. Tenet was the premier training academy in all of Valhaur… and likely in the top five for the world. Funding wasn’t a problem. How could it be? The students who left this campus, having graduated, were a collection of professionals who powered a staggering amount of the Valhaurian economy just by themselves. Monster cores grew in strength exponentially, and so the strongest adventurers hoisted society up on their shoulders, essentially, with the loot they dragged back from a delve. And a decent portion of that esteemed echelon of society came from Tenet.

Low- and mid-rank adventurers were just… kind of there. Trying to reach those heights. Certainly useful, but a mid-rank monster core provided a sliver of a fraction of what a high-rank core did.

Tenet’s goal was to create high-rankers. The best. Hence, their exacting standards, and the systems they’d designed, carefully, to force competition—and thus growth. Like being stuck in a shitty, cramped barracks, and having to buy your way out through their token system. Tokens, which were earned in a variety of ways… but most notably, the obvious. Delving.

Or academic excellence. And academic excellence at a delving academy meant, most prominently, combat Prowess. So more or less the same thing. Sofia had her suitcase laid out across her bed, and she was unpacking her belongings into her locker. Natalie arrived to her bed. Sofia looked up and saw her. She grimaced.

“Preaching to the choir, Sofia,” Natalie said sourly, thumping her own suitcase onto the only open bed. “Preaching to the choir.”

“Well,” Sofia said. “I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

“Speak for yourself,” Natalie muttered.

“We’ve already determined we’d be moving in together. So while unpleasant, it’s hardly something we weren’t prepared for.”

Their future as a potential team hadn’t been the only thing Jordan had prompted the three of them to talk about on their way to Tenet. The token system, too, they’d discussed… or more accurately, pooling their resources to get out of the barracks. They intended to move in together.

Natalie supposed she was fortunate the Tenet campus didn’t function on ‘real currency’, and that just about everything—including niceties, and delving loot both, or anything else—functioned on their proprietary ‘tokens’. Because it meant she wasn’t behind the rest of the campus when it came to finances. They were all starting on even footing. Which, Natalie had to assume was a bit of a shock to some of them, who’d grown up with silver spoons and droves of servants.

“That would’ve been when we had our own rooms,” Natalie said. “I was supposed to be free from you, in the barracks.” The one redeeming quality of their starting accommodations.

“Hm,” Sofia said. “Yes. Well. We can’t always get what we want.” She returned to unpacking.

Natalie took the hint; they could ignore each other. If they managed that, then maybe this wouldn’t be the torture Natalie thought it would be. As she went about the monotonous task of unpacking, she stole glances—subtly, as to not be caught staring—at the rest of her so-called roommates. Barracks-mates?

Despite the number of beds, less than half—maybe around a third—had their occupant nearby. Most people had come in, unpacked, then left to handle the rest of their in-processing duties, or otherwise to explore campus, shower, eat, or whatever else.

It was a colorful collection of people. Not only did Tenet draw applicants from all across the country—and plenty from neighboring, allied countries too—but fashion this far north was different from what Natalie knew. Or maybe that was the fault of Natalie’s upbringing in a rural area.

Either way, dyed hair hadn’t been common back home, as it was here. The girls with neon shades—pink, blue, green, violet—weren’t the majority, but maybe a third had the bright, eye-catching colors. Several had mixtures of the bright hues. Some only had streaks, rather than dying themselves entirely.

Natalie was a fan. Of the hair, at least. Not much the rest of typical northern Valhaurian fashion, which was, like the hair, bright and attention grabbing… but too much so.

A few girls in particular, Natalie’s attention gravitated to. She continued to unpack, stealing glances. Some of them might be future classmates, and were, at a minimum, competition… or potential delving teammates. Tenet’s class years were too large to know everyone individually, but making connections would be important. Natalie didn’t intend to seclude herself.

The first girl Natalie’s eyes stuck to had short black hair down to her shoulders, streaked with a single bright, noticeable lock of blue. She was talking animatedly with someone else—a blonde woman wearing her hair in a ponytail, who was a tenth as animated as her talking partner. She seemed to be tolerating the conversation. Her responses, from Natalie’s subtle glances, seemed to be polite smiles and minimal prompts. The two girls were three beds to Natalie’s left, and on the opposite side of the hall.

Another woman caught her eye: someone whose Natalie’s attention stuck to because of her amused expression. She was leaned against her locker, arms crossed, and watching the conversation of the two girls Natalie had just looked at. She had long, straight red hair—a bit lighter than Natalie’s own red hair—and piercing green eyes.

There was something rude about her quirked eyebrow… as if she’d noticed the blonde woman’s lack of enthusiasm and was smirking at how the girl with the blue streak hadn’t picked it up, and had thus trapped the two of them into a one-sided conversation.

Natalie frowned. The smirk reminded her of Sofia. Though, for all Sofia was smug and annoying, she wouldn’t look at someone trying to make a friend with curled, amused lips. Natalie didn’t like her, whoever she was. Though maybe she was making too many assumption about a vaguely amused smirk. Maybe she was making too many assumptions about everything—the blonde girl, in particular, who could be enjoying the conversation. Hell, maybe the two girls talking knew each other, and were friends already.

Natalie continued to look around. Her attention snagged to a girl seated on the last bed, on the far end of the hall. She was seated cross-legged, scanning the room… but unlike Natalie, with no subtlety. Natalie couldn’t get a good look, or she’d be caught—the girl was watching the room like a hawk.

But even a glance was enough to make out the basics. The girl had short black hair, and her shoulders were hunched forward. Her face was scarred, and not in any small way… even from the distance, Natalie saw the patchwork of white scratches. Her bangs cascaded down her face, almost hiding her eyes.

Something about her posture said ‘harried’… like she didn’t want to be here. Or maybe not ‘here’, as in Tenet, but in a public living space, definitely. She was uncomfortable with people. Natalie didn’t know the girl—obviously—but she could discern that with a quick look. Anyone could. Tenet’s required living conditions sat worse with others than some… and for this raven-haired girl, she was on the top of that list.

So. Like Natalie said. A colorful collection of people, as expected of Tenet; considering their prestigious requirements, almost everyone had an interesting story, she bet. It wasn’t enough just to be rich to make it here. Though… there was a limit to that statement, probably. She was sure the obscenely wealthy found ways to sneak in unfitting candidates. But it didn’t really matter. The skilled were who would be recognized.

Natalie wondered if, after unpacking, she ought to wander the hall and get some names, make introductions. But she still had a lot of in-processing tasks to handle, so maybe not. Get the practical stuff done, first.

*****

All things considered, Natalie’s first morning at Tenet started off well. Which was to say, she didn’t wake up with her blanket thrown off, and her cock straining her pajama bottoms, proudly showcasing her secret to anybody walking by. She’d set her alarm early, just in case. Unreasonably early. Early enough that even she, a habitual morning person, cracked her eyes open and thought, good gods, what time is it?

She tapped the alarm glyph, shutting off the vibrating motion that had woken her, but which had spared her many roommates. It was an interesting piece of magic, and it’d taken more minutes than she was willing to admit figuring out how to use it, and set a time for it to go off. The one she had back home was simpler, and used noise… which was the standard, far as she knew, but in a barracks, the vibrating glyph was the only way to wake just yourself, without dragging everyone nearby into your schedule.

Now, Natalie might not have thrown her covers off, but that wasn’t to say she’d been spared from her biology entirely. Groggily coming into awareness, Natalie sat up in bed, her rock-hard cock rubbing around the confines of her pants. It was digging down her leg and toward her knee. Even in the worst case, it didn’t stick straight up, usually at an angle… although admittedly enough to give her away, hence her concerns.

She looked around to make sure she was the only one awake. There were one or two empty beds. Natalie was briefly astounded, and impressed, that there were maniacs who had woken up even earlier than her. Why? It would be hours before the day’s official schedule began. Natalie was only awake because she had to be.

For more than one reason, besides wanting to spare herself the embarrassment of being caught with a boner early in the morning. There was another event just as dangerous, which would also happen each morning… and probably each night, too, considering how sweaty a delver-in-training’s routine was. Showers. Public showers, even worse.

Natalie had scoped the bathroom out yesterday, and as she’d hoped, the showers at least had dividers, and pull-curtains. She didn’t have to let everything hang free. If it had been that way… Natalie didn’t know what she would have done.

But still. Risky. The showers might not be wholly open, but they were still very much not privacy-oriented. Natalie could probably get away with not being naked in her fellow student’s company, but only if she was careful, and earned a reputation for being embarrassed to show her body.

All things considered, hardly an unusual thing… nobody should think twice of Natalie’s modest tendencies. But back to her current situation: the distinctly noticeable bulge in her pajama pants. Six inches wasn’t a lot, but it wasn’t small, either. And with how poundingly at-attention it was, it made its presence known.

Why did this thing have to be so needy? She really, really wished she could just ignore it. Which wouldn’t be something she could do forever, unfortunately. Her Class had given it to her for a reason. But, ugh… later. She’d figure it out later.

She sat in bed, blinking blearily as she woke up, and letting her erection soften. It took a while. Finally, she got out of bed, collected her outfit for the day, and a towel, slipped on her shower-shoes (a highly suggested item on the provided preparation-for-Tenet shopping list), then set off for the public showers.

As with the barracks, the showers were an efficient public space, though split into smaller subsections of eight shower-stalls each. There was a bench and row of lockers across from the shower-blocks, and a pair of sinks closer to the entrance. This early in the morning, Natalie had figured she’d be one of the only—if not the only—girls here. Unfortunately, that turned out wrong. The first block Natalie passed had someone inside.

A woman stood there, naked, digging into her locker… presumably having just dried herself off and starting to dress. Natalie’s eyes widened in surprise. She froze to the spot, taking the sight in, despite knowing she shouldn’t.

She was gorgeous. Sculpted… the perfect mixture of soft curves and hard muscles, as expected from an aspirant delver. Her arms and legs were a deep shade of bronze, tanned from long days in the sun, and several shades lighter on her body, nearly pale where her underwear would’ve covered. She had long, wavy auburn hair that cascaded to the small of her back.

And the parts that had Natalie frozen to the spot… her breasts, full and round, with perky nipples. Faced toward the locker, in profile, Natalie could only make them out from the side, but they were stunning, even then. And her ass. Ample, full, the perfect shape. Natalie’s heart quickened, her skin heating up as her gaze wandered the woman’s body. She was struck with a paralyzing need to touch her, to feel her, to taste her.

Natalie tore her eyes away. She scurried away. What was she doing? She couldn’t just stand there and ogle a naked girl in the showers. What was wrong with her? Just… the sight had hit her like a lightning bolt. And, unfortunately, provoked something. Her pajama bottoms were stiffening.

Natalie picked up the pace. She swerved into the first empty block of shower-stalls and lockers. No patter of water indicated there were occupants besides her. Undressing in a frenzy—before she found company, and her secret was revealed—she stripped off her pajamas and stuffed them into a locker. She wrapped a towel around her waist, then scooped up her shower supplies and change of clothes. Her erection poked out through the towel, making things rather obvious. Natalie fled into the stall, finding privacy. She sighed in relief, then tossed her towel and change of clothes over the stall’s ledge.

This is gonna get way more complicated in the evening, she internally lamented. There was no ‘waking up early’ to solve the problem, there. But skipping showers, and going to sleep gross, wasn’t an option either.

She turned the water on and let it patter to the floor, standing to the side and avoiding its freezing touch. The heating glyphs took a second to get the water to a reasonable temperature.

As she waited, she stared down at her cock. It was as angry as usual. That was the word that always came to mind. Thick, veiny, and twitching with need, her cock was distinctly unhappy that Natalie had been ignoring it the past few days. It wanted to be relieved. As maybe Natalie’s reaction to the girl getting dressed had shown. It’d sprung up, and her thoughts turned heated, way too easily.

There’d been a pressure building, growing each day, as Natalie refused to address the addition to her body. Maybe that needed to change. This situation was untenable. If Natalie was springing an erection this easily, then she’d give herself away for sure. During the actual school-day, or… some other time. It didn’t matter when. So. Maybe it was time to face the facts. Natalie needed to take care of it.

She swallowed, then glanced backward at the shower curtains. They were obviously still closed. Then, she strained her ears… but no one had entered. Just Natalie, alone in her shower stall. Well, Natalie thought, turning back forward, and admiring her veiny appendage. She might as well get to it. It was something she’d been putting off too long. Natalie wrapped a hand around her cock.

The pressure forced a breathless exhalation from her lips. It was the first time since her and Jordan's confused intimacy that Natalie had paid any attention to it. Even more than then—which had already been overwhelming—having a hand around her cock whited her mind out. It was amazing. And she hadn't even stroked it.

Hot water pounded down into the tiled floor. Was this... appropriate? Should Natalie be doing this? Jerking off, for the first time, in the public showers? Where else would she? It was something she needed to take care of. How quickly she'd gotten hard sneaking a peak at that other girl had proved it.

And... she didn't think she could've stopped herself if she wanted to. Three days of ignoring the needy, angry thing between her legs had been a monumental task. Now, given a reason, Natalie's defenses crumbled.

Or, it hadn't been defenses. But nervousness. The strangeness of everything had made her shy away. But now, her reservations went ignored, placed to secondary importance in face of the amazing pressure her hand was providing. Natalie stroked up and down, once, bunching skin as her grip traveled her length.

She moaned softly. Her eyes closed, and her head fell back. It was a good thing she was alone, and the showers empty. She had some time to herself. To explore, without being caught. She'd have to be quiet, still, and pay attention... but she was mostly safe. Her free hand went up, squeezing her breast. Another stroke of her cock. Her hips bucked in satisfaction, slapping her hand to the base of her shaft.

A whimper escaped her. It felt so good. It was so different from pleasuring herself how she always had before. Was it the novelty? Or did cocks just feel better? More immediately gratifying, with less need for build-up? That definitely seemed possible. Lust had plagued her much more intensely the past few days than ever before. Was it her Class? Or her cock?

It didn't matter. Natalie's mouth fell open and she started to pant. Her hips picked up speed, moving in rhythm with her hand. She jerked herself off eagerly, basking in the sensation. What would it be like? To use it for real? That auburn-haired girl she'd seen, with the perfect ass. What if Natalie had a few moments alone with her? What would she feel like, her pussy, or mouth, wrapped around Natalie?

Her breathing picked up as she fell into the fantasy. It wasn't even a conscious decision. Giving in after such a long period of neglect meant Natalie's lust took over completely. She imagined having her cock enveloped by pouty lips, with bright brown eyes looking up at her. A tongue, licking its way along her shaft. The suction her wet mouth would provide. Natalie's hand jerked away, something foreign building in her stomach. It was familiar... but not. Hot, clenching, overwhelming. Natalie's fantasy deepened.

She imagined the girl splayed out on a bed beneath her, Natalie lining her cock up. She imagined pushing inside the girl slowly, feeling her tight insides wrap around her. Pushing deeper until she bottomed out. Then starting to move. Picking up speed. Feeling every inch of the girl, writhing under her thrusts. The noises she’d make. The moans and whines of pleasure, like Natalie was making now, escaping in whimpers as she tried to be quiet.

Her hands squeezed her breast, again, roughly this time. She pinched her nipple as her hand continued pleasuring her length. This was what she had needed. She hadn't even realized how badly until this moment. The relief was all-consuming. Natalie couldn’t think.

She slapped her hips into the girl's lower half, her cock being coaxed by warm, slippery walls. Loud slaps of flesh echoed in her mind. The girl cried out in pleasure, and Natalie picked up speed. She pounded harder and harder. The hot, tight feeling in her stomach grew until she couldn't fight it. Her body tensed, and she bit down on her lip, trying to stifle the whimpers.

She came undone. Her hips bucked forward, her climax arriving. Natalie's hand clamped over her mouth as she cried out in pleasure, no longer able to stop the noises with just willpower. The heat rushed through her veins, and she shook like a leaf, quivering in place. Every muscle locked as wave after wave overtook her. Orgasmic euphoria rolled across her body and mind, and Natalie pumped away, urging it higher and higher.

She milked her cock out. She watched, shocked, as her lack of male testicles didn’t stop thick ropes of cum shooting forth, splattering against the shower wall. Spasms racked her frame for almost a full minute as more and more sticky white strings flew from her length. Natalie watched in a melting haze, fascinated at the sensation, and the sight, but only somewhere far behind the burning euphoria.

Finally, she collapsed backwards into the wall, gasping for breath, barely remaining standing. Her cock softened as she panted and came down. The shower stall was steamy now; how long had that taken? The hand clamped roughly across her mouth fell to her side. And how loud had she been? Gods, she hadn't been heard, right?

She almost couldn't find it in herself to care. That had been... amazing. Insane. Mind-erasing. There weren't words to describe it. Was it because she'd ignored it for three days? Was it because it had been her first time? Surely every finish wouldn't be that explosive of a high.

And that had only been her jerking herself off. What would it be like, for real? Plunging herself into an eager girl, losing herself in their moans and mutual sticky pleasures? Natalie swallowed.

She strained her ears, but the only noise was the water pattering down. Nobody had entered her shower-block. So she was in the clear. But she could've not been, just as easily. Someone could’ve heard her if they’d entered.

What a way to set a reputation. Masturbating in the showers, on her first day. Sure, they wouldn't know exactly how Nataile'd been pleasuring herself, but would it have mattered? Pussy or cock, still about the most embarrassing thing she could imagine. Natalie stared at the sticky string coating the tile walls. And that, too. Architect. She'd been so lost in the moment. Well, either way, time to clean up. Both herself, and her... enthusiastic paint-job. Why had it felt so good?

*****

Harper clapped her hands together. “Thank you, Instructor Hepburn. I’ll take great care of them.”'

Instructor Hepburn inclined her head at the blonde, then departed, leaving the collection of students—led by the blonde upperclassman—alone in the meeting room.

The first day had begun in earnest, though not actual classes. Rather, an initiation day. Over the past hour, Instructor Hepburn had gone over the functional requirements expected of them… the Tenet code of conduct, and various policies they were expected to know by heart.

Harper was a fourth-year student, in her last year before graduation. She’d be talking Natalie’s first-year group through a variety of topics: the role guilds, the token system, life at Tenet in general, extracurriculars, and so on.

She didn’t exude any particular sort of competence, but Natalie knew not to trust that instinct. Just because she had a bubbly personality meant nothing for her combat skills. Her soft curves, heart-shaped face, and bright, innocent blue eyes, didn’t remotely guarantee weakness.

Maybe for someone without an adventuring Class, physique could indicate strength, speed, or athleticism, but in the world of delving—or combat Classes, to appropriately generalize—a five foot nothing girl who looked like she’d blow away in the wind might very well be able to dig her fingers into a boulder and chuck it across a pond like a skipping stone. Or not. That was the point—you couldn’t know.

Probably not the case, with Harper… she likely wasn’t that strong. But Natalie’s point was, regardless that this girl didn’t look dangerous, she’d made it to Tenet’s fourth year. She’d wipe the floor with Natalie. And Sofia and Jordan. All three of them, at the same time, at a guess. Skill mattered, but only to a point. Harper had levels on them, even if she didn’t have skill. And she almost certainly did have skill.

“So!” Harper started brightly. “I’m sure you’re all excited to be here. I know I was! Tenet Delving Academy… your life begins in earnest. But,” she said firmly, pointing at the group of students who, like Natalie, were slightly perplexed at her exuberant behavior, “we’ve got a lot to talk about, and it’s all important. So listen carefully. I’d like to get through this as fast as possible, to give you time for questions.”

“To start us off, the token system. Let me outline things.” She put her hands on her hips and frowned at the group. “But before I do, I need to be candid. I don’t know which of you this applies to, but while Mommy and Daddy might have bought you a way into Tenet, now that you’re in, you’re on your own. No, you can’t exchange helixes for tokens. Yes, if you’re caught, you’ll be reprimanded, and eventually expelled. I don’t care what your name is. Tenet has expelled more important people than you, I promise. You’re not special. Get that through your thick skulls.”

The harsh words were said in the same sweet tone as before, which was kind of impressive. Harper made it clear what she thought of the people the disclaimer applied to.

“Not that you’ll last long, if you’re needing to buy tokens off your less useless peers,” Harper said breezily, smiling. “But either way, it’s time to put your big girl and big boy pants on. Don’t circumvent the system. Not only will you not like what happens, but if you’re going to wash out, it’s best you get it over with.” She raised her eyebrows and emphasized the next part. “It’s better to wash out normally, than what’ll happen down in the dungeon. I promise you that.”

A bright smile, and Harper clapped her hands. “That said! The token system is real fun. You’ll learn to love it. It’s a great motivator.” A snort somewhere in the back of the audience, which Harper ignored. “First, let me break it down for those who might never have heard of it.”

“Who wouldn’t have?” a masculine voice asked, somewhere to Natalie’s left, near the front. He sounded bored.

“Who wouldn’t?” Harper echoed. “Well, most of you don’t need this brief, that’s fair. But not everyone at Tenet has such boring origins, Mister Adair, second son to Nobleman Whoever-The-Fuck.” The words continued to be perfectly sweet, delivered with a smile.

She knew the boy’s name, though? Was he important? Not too important to insult… but enough to recognize.

“The Dimming Herald, however, was raised in a cave,” Harper continued. “She didn’t meet another human until she was nineteen. She attended Tenet, and, I suppose, wouldn’t have known what the token system was when she arrived. So let me explain, please?”

She ended the statement with a sneer, and damn, Natalie thought she had a new favorite fourth-year. Miss Bubbly has some kick to her. Consider Natalie a fan. The interrupter—Mister Adair—didn’t bristle, to his credit, only seemed amused at how Harper had shot him down. It raised Natalie’s estimation of him. Natalie respected a person who could take their licks, even if she thought he was annoying for not shutting up and letting Harper get through her spiel.

“As I was saying,” Harper said. “The token system. Fundamentally, it’s a way to encourage a delver to be the best version of themselves they can be. It’s not a well-kept secret that Tenet had problems with nepotism in the past… that individuals were accepted by family name more than merit.” The bubbly blonde’s attention flicked to Mister Adair, quirking an eyebrow, though it seemed more a taunt than a real accusation.

“But those days are past,” Harper said. “Now, Tenet cares only about fostering competition. With technology taking an ever-increasing presence in our lives, an equal need for monster cores is rising. Powerful delvers have never been so crucial. And as one of thirteen primary delving academies—and the largest in Valhaur, to view things more myopically—Tenet is one of the cogs that keeps the world going round.”

The speech felt a bit too canned, but she saw the point Harper was making. It was true. Technology wasn’t cheap to run, and as the world grew, and technology became more complex, more and more cores were needed.

“So,” Harper said. “Rather than students buying luxuries, equipment, and tutoring through helixes, our more common, mundane currency, the aspiring Tenet pupil has to work for what they want. Crazy, right?”

Natalie’s lips quirked. The canned speech was gone; the frank honesty was back. She hadn’t expected a representative of Tenet to be so critical of the overwhelmingly nobility-influenced student body, but apparently Harper was—and Natalie appreciated it. Though, the whole display was a bit hypocritical. For all the claims to avoiding nepotism, the students attending Tenet were either wealthy or sponsored by a wealthy House by a significant margin.

Though, that might also be due to wealth which meant proper training… and a slew of other advantages. Often times, the wealthy were the best candidates. Not from nepotism, but privileged upbringings that led to ideal candidacy.

“So your next question is pretty obvious. Harper, how do we get tokens? Public showers are such a drag. And to that I say—what do you think?” Harper laughed. “Delving! Though, I should be more specific. There’s a few avenues where delves can turn into tokens. First off, the obvious. Levels. Levels are the most blatant indicator that you’ve been putting work in, and Tenet is happy to reward it. In fact, as far as token-earning goes, it’s the single most lucrative.”

“Because it takes forever,” a new voice said.

“Exactly,” Harper said, pivoting and pointing at the boy. “So it’s not a viable option for primary token earning. Even your first level can only be done in, hm, a week or two, at the best. Plus, as first-weekers, the dungeons are closed off… so it’s not an option anyways. You’ll need to suck your circumstances up for at least a bit. Misery breeds character, haven’t you heard?”

A few snorts. Harper seemed happy at that. She seemed to be a natural public speaker, enjoying the limelight, even in an academic way like this.

“But not just levels. Depositing loot into the Tenet public treasury, whether monster cores or items, is a good, consistent way to earn tokens. Another good option is escort missions. Taking harvesters of various sorts to risky dungeon locations to mine, or gather, or whatever else. That’s more of a higher level option, but some crop up, so keep an eye out.” Harper hummed before she continued.

“Okay, but besides the dungeon, there’s a bunch of other ways. Most of them fall under the general umbrella of ‘quests’, but it’s worth breaking that down into a few categories, so you can know what to expect. First, Tenet-offered quests. Stuff like helping your professors with grading, or tutoring other students, or… whatever. Stuff that Tenet needs done. I recommend checking those out, and not only because it pays well. Networking is important, which is a statement I know a lot of you will roll your eyes at. Who needs networking as a delver, right? The goal is to cut your way through mountains of snarling monster, not ‘make connections’.” Harper air quoted the words, mocking the imaginary speaker.

“It’s a juvenile way of thinking. The world’s more complicated than that. Sure, there’s exceptions. But the thing is, by definition, you’re probably not the exception. Most of you—us—are going to be normal, career delvers. Mid-ranks. Some of us become high-ranks. A top-ranker? Probably not. People like the Dimming Herald don’t just crop up. If you had a chance of being her, you’d know by now.” Harper sighed.

“And yeah, this is all pointless to say. You’re all wide-eyed and hopeful, and won’t believe me. But Tenet, and the dungeon, has a way of bashing the reality of a situation into your head, so maybe in six months you’d be willing to listen. But whatever. Think about it. Networking is important. Take Tenet quests, if nothing but for that. Help people, make friends.” She shrugged. “Or don’t. What do I care? I’m not your mom.” She tapped a finger against her lips.

“Next up, and don’t repeat this phrase outside of Tenet, are the ‘public relations’ quests.” She air quoted the words. “Tenet’s got an image to uphold, and that means having students go out into the city, or neighboring cities, and be seen doing good. The more astute of you, here, know why this is necessary. Beyond just Tenet wanting a good image—adventurers being viewed favorably. In fact, besides killing a classmate outside a sanctioned competition, handling yourself in a way that degrades Tenet’s image is the quickest way to getting expelled. If you’re going to get drunk and act an idiot—or whatever else—do it on campus. You’ll get in trouble, but you won’t be expelled.” Harper breathed in.

“Okay. I’ve been talking at you too long—let’s get some group participation. One of you tell me why delvers need to be viewed in a good light. I’m sure someone here’s wondering.”

“Because historically," someone said, drawing a collection of eyes her way, “powerful adventurers end up as tyrants.”

It was a face Natalie recognized: the girl with long, straight red hair, who Natalie had formed a poor first impression of back in the barracks. She had had a certain arrogance to her face, even still. The amused quirk to her lips almost said that this question was ridiculous—but she’d answered anyway, because who else, if not her?

“Exactly,” Harper said. “And ‘historically’ might even be too gentle, as if it’s a trend that’s done and over with. Fun fact. How many countries, can any of you tell me, are ruled by dictators?”

“Individuals, or oligarchies?”

Natalie’s head turned; the speaker this time was a girl with short, neat black hair and round spectacles. Her response was timid, and she quailed when everyone’s attention turned to her. At a guess, she hadn’t even meant to answer, but was intrigued enough by the question she’d responded instinctively.

“Mm,” Harper said. “Let’s rephrase to, totalitarian rule enforced by an overwhelming power advantage, granted by their Class. Groups or individuals, either or.”

“Twenty or so?” the same girl said.

“Of?”

“Forty seven nations?”

Harper seemed impressed. “That’s right. Twenty-two of forty-seven. Nearly half of all nations—despite the modern age—are ruled by individuals, or groups of individuals, who abuse their gods-granted power.” She raised her eyebrows.

“You can see the PR nightmare, yeah? And Valhaur, and most of the Tascian continent, have of course come to understand the monstrous, unethical nature of such rule. But, we have millennia of distrust to work past… and even our nation doesn’t have clean hands in that regard. Not even in recent history.”

That was true enough. Natalie’s thoughts flickered to, as most of the student’s surely did, The March of Three Kings—that bloody event only four decades back.

“So, it’s an uphill battle we’re fighting to make people trust us. Which is why,” she emphasized the last word, “Tenet students—the best of the best when it comes to adventurers—cannot be seen by the general populace abusing their powers, or acting an idiot.” Harper leaned back. “I’m side-tracking. The point: public relations quests. Tenet seeks to foster good will from the general population. They don’t pay the best, but they’re great from a difficulty-to-pay standpoint. Maintenance, cleaning, public events, honestly sometimes just showing up and looking pretty. Worst these sorts of quests get are monster exterminations, and only ones you’re overqualified for—again, to improve confidence, and the general populace’s image of us.” Harper breathed in.

“Kay! Taking too long on tokens. Lots more to go over—check out the quest boards, or chat your friends up to get more ideas. There’s all kinds of shit you can do. Extracurriculars, tournaments, research assistance, and some you wouldn’t expect, ‘specially if you’ve got a weird Class, something helpful in, like, construction, or,” She shook her head. “Whatever it is. Okay. Moving on. Classes and daily life.”

Natalie sat up straighter. Though the brief on tokens had been interesting enough—surprisingly so—Class would be the most pervasively relevant topic in her life. And more than her classmates, Natalie didn’t know what she was in for, not besides in a general sense.

“You’ve all taken a look at the schedule on the pamphlet, I assume?” Harper asked.

Natalie had. They’d been given tri-fold papers filled with all sorts of information. She hadn’t had a chance to read it in depth, but she’d scanned the tight-cramped text. Natalie idly opened the pamphlet up and took a second look at the schedule.

~~~
7:00 AM - Wake Up
8:00 AM - Training Facility, Conditioning
9:30 AM - Spars
11:00 AM - Lunch
12:00 PM - Academics
3:00 PM - Extracurriculars
5:00 PM - End Academic Day
11:00 PM - Lights Out
~~~

“It’s self-explanatory,” Harper said. “But there’s a few things worth bringing up. First, eight a.m. conditioning. It’s less structured than you think. This is your warm-up and exercise time, for the fighters, or your mental training time, for the casters. You won’t have an instructor assigned. That said, plenty are available, should you want or need one. Or do your own thing. All you’re required to do is sign in and be there.”

“Next, academics at noon. You’ll have your own schedules for that—some of you are exempt to certain class, some of you aren’t. Most likely, expect to see public relations, intro to delving, and monster 101. You’ve gotta really try to fail these courses, but it happens. But really, just give it an effort. Not even your best effort… just an effort. That’s really all it takes. Tenet’s not expecting geniuses but, don’t be the second year retaking 101s.” She shrugged. “Or, like I said, do. I’m not your mom, but it’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Five p.m. is the end of the academic day. Now, I hope this doesn’t mean you’re done—have some ambition. Extra training, spars, whatever, but if you’re done at five each day, you’re not going far. Assuming you’ve made it to Tenet, that probably won’t be an issue.”

“Finally,” Harper said, “eleven p.m. Lights out. That means curfew. Yes, you have a curfew. But, it’s only for being out in Aradon. Inside Tenet’s walls. And like I’ve been saying—don’t fuck around when it comes to this. If you break curfew and make it back without incident, it won’t be the worst thing in the world, even if you’ll be getting community work for it. But, break curfew, and do so while making an idiot of yourself…” Harper grimaced. “Just don’t. I’ll leave it at that.” Harper breathed in. “And finally… one of the real reasons I’m giving this briefing, rather than the faculty—the fact I can be candid. Everyone ready?”

Everyone looked around, perplexed. Natalie didn’t know where Harper was leading with this, either. Harper put her hands on her hips and frowned at the collection of students. “Don’t get someone pregnant,” she said sternly, “and don’t get pregnant. Use condoms.”

A stir went through the crowd, obviously not expecting the turn in subject. Natalie just smirked, amused—then paused, because, uh, that was actually a more applicable warning to her than most. She’d already mused over how she would need to be careful in that regard, but damn, with the thing between her legs, she had to worry from both ends, didn’t she? Both getting someone pregnant, and becoming.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harper said. “It’s awkward, I know. But we’re talking about it. If there’s a quick way to tank your career, it’s getting knocked up. Guess this is more for the girls, because boys are—well. Boys. Hopeless. So, ladies, please. Unless being a mom is what you’re aiming for—and, good for you, if it is, but since you’re at Tenet, I doubt it—then make sure your partner’s wearing a condom. There’s stations where you can get them for free, too. Like, everywhere. Understand? Cool.”

Harper brushed forward. Natalie remained amused. As Harper had said, this must be why they had a fourth year handling this portion of their orientation. It would be inappropriate for a faculty member to be this frank. Harper had handled the awkward topic well, but scolding a group of adults about wearing condoms was enough to break even her thus-far irreverent demeanor. She was blushing.

And, it made sense that Tenet had a problem with an… overly active student base. As a collection of young adults starting a new chapter in their life in a stressful, competitive environment—and with fitness being a general requirement, resulting in consistently active, fit body types—some, well, ‘stress relief’ was an inevitability. It actually fared well for Natalie, viewed that way. You know, seeing how she would be needing to find partners, just to advance her skills. And while for now that only meant kissing, Natalie doubted that would last.

“Now, role guilds and extracurriculars,” Harper said. “Almost done, then we’ll set you free to lunch.”

“Guilds are simple. They’re a stick-around from the old days, and really, don’t matter much. Just don’t be caught saying it. Some people are bristly about guild allegiances.” She flashed a grin. “Either way, you’re required to pick, and there’s benefits to being in the right one. Let’s you network with peers, find mentors, both faculty and students alike, and, y’know, it serves as a hang-out place, too. I’m sure everyone’s heard the stories.”

Even Natalie had, and she was less informed than probably anyone here. The guild’s parties were legendary… in both good and bad ways. Another byproduct of that ‘stressed environment’ she’d mentioned. Natalie hadn’t come here to party, but she doubted anyone did. She’d probably check one out, eventually.

“Some people fit several roles, obviously,” Harper continued, “and don’t worry, you can qualify up to two, if your Class fills several. It happens. Plenty of, say, priests are in both the healer and mage guilds. Or a more obvious example, lots of brawler Classes dabble in both tanking and fighting. So feel free to check out several guildhalls… though I recommend you stick to one. Getting comfortable is important. That said, don’t get stuck in your ways. Your Class might be a [Healer] now, but you might find [Fighter] fits you better, five levels from now. Stay flexible. Keep your options open.”

“And last comment, though it might not even be necessary. The divergent guild. If you’ve got a Class that doesn’t fit into any of the guilds—it happens, surprisingly—then that’s the one you’ll be slotted in. For those of you that applies to… well, you know who you are. Hard to not.” Harper scanned the crowd, as if seeing if anyone would give themselves away.

Natalie was intrigued, also looking around. She’d never heard of a ‘divergent’ guild. Someone who fell outside all five roles? How would that happen? Wouldn’t that just be a… craftsman Class, or something? How could someone be neither a fighter, rogue, mage, healer, or tank? Not even in a peripheral way?

Natalie brainstormed. She realized she could think of a few. An explorer Class, maybe, with no combat specialties, but useful in delving, or adventuring in general. Someone who could navigate the dungeon, identifying monsters, leading the party to treasure… even if they didn’t have any combat Prowess. Though, why be trained at Tenet, in that case? To operate functionally in a team? She didn’t get a chance to think too hard about it, because Harper was moving on. Like for the rest of orientation, she kept an expeditious pace.

“Last item of business. Extracurriculars. The fun stuff.”

For a few minutes, Harper went over the options available to them. Dueling was the most popular extracurricular, with a close second being the harvesting disciplines. Besides that, there were more mundane options, like drama or band. Natalie hadn’t entirely made her mind up on which she’d pick, since everyone was required to be in at least one. As Harper went on, Natalie’s eyes glazed over. Extracurriculars were one of the things she already had a good idea of, coming to Tenet.

Harper breathed in, clapping her hands together, bringing Natalie’s attention back. “That’s it! We’ve made it through. Just one last quick thing, before I get to questions… it’s time for your generic words of encouragement.”

Natalie’s lips quirked at the continued irreverence.

“Remember, not everyone can be the Dimming Herald,” Harper said. “That’s fine. It’s what Tenet wants you to be, but that doesn’t mean they want to get half the school killed trying for an impossibility. The one percent might provide a third of all monster cores—by energy—but the other two thirds… that still comes from us mortals. We aren’t wholly expendable, and Tenet doesn’t want you to get yourself killed trying to be something you aren’t. You have to realize—some of us are playing different games from each other, and that’s the reality of… well, reality.”

Natalie frowned. She didn’t like that perspective. Anyone could be the Dimming Herald if they worked hard enough. She didn’t believe a special set of people were simply born into fates like that. They earned them.

“So,” Harper said. “Work hard and have fun. Be the best you can be, but avoid croaking it. That’s it! Any questions?”

*****

Tenet’s cafeteria—one of three scattered across the expansive campus—was a wide open space with tall windows that stretched from floor nearly to ceiling, flooding the hall with natural light.

Like much of the campus, Natalie wouldn’t outright call the space opulent, but wealth showed in less obvious ways: the enormous windows and perfect cleanliness, to name one, but also in the array of choices available, all of it appetizing. Various stations packed the hall, offering every sort of food Natalie could imagine. All of it free. Tenet like to grind its students down in all manners of way, but they ate well. Which had a practical purpose; it took a good diet to stay in fighting shape.

Natalie scanned the cafeteria for Jordan. The first-year students had been dispersed by the lecturers and were responsible for making it to their next appointment—uniform fittings—on their own. A delving student who couldn’t handle something that simple was useless to Tenet; the academy expected, and encouraged, autonomy. Because of course they did. What use was a delver who needed to be hand-held? The trust given to even a first-year was another thing setting the combat school apart from a typical military academy, despite the similarities.

Jordan was off in the corner, as Natalie instinctively searched first, knowing her dark-haired friend preferred to stay on the outskirts, away from attention. Jordan didn’t see her looking; she was already eating. Her soon-to-be table located, Natalie’s attention turned back to the various food stations. She picked the first few things that seemed appetizing. She’d explore the cafeteria—and its surprisingly enticing options—later. She didn’t have the mental wherewithal to be caring about food, at the moment.

Salad made, and a few heavier options piled onto her plate, Natalie slid her tray onto the table, settling into the chair across from Jordan. Jordan looked up and nodded in greeting. “How’d yours go?” Natalie asked.

Orientation had been split into several classes, and Jordan hadn’t been in Natalie’s. Which was a shame for a few reasons—first, because hanging out with Jordan would’ve made the morning pass faster, and second, because Harper had been a delight. As far as orientations went. It still hadn’t been the most engaging event of her life.

“Fine,” Jordan said. “You?”

“Better than expected, actually. Got this snarky fourth year, Harper. She was… funny. And I learned a lot.”

“Like?”

Natalie shrugged. “Tenet stuff. And insight. Perspective of a fourth year.” Not that Harper’s views would be monolithic. Hers was just one of many, at a guess. “Sucks we didn’t get the same barracks. Think we could trade?”

“With someone else?”

“So we’re together, yeah.”

“I… don’t think that’s allowed.” Though Jordan seemed tempted to try. She’d wanted to be put into Natalie’s barracks, too. Eventually, once they’d earned some of Tenet’s proprietary ‘tokens’, they’d be able to buy their way into a shared dormitory. But that was a ways off.

“And?” Natalie asked.

Amused, Jordan said, “It’s the first day. Let’s hold off on pushing boundaries yet. Get a feel for things.” Jordan knew better than to suggest something as ridiculous as ‘follow the rules entirely’.

“It’s not like they assigned beds,” Natalie argued. “You think they check? Let’s just swap.”

Jordan hesitated, but held firm. “Better to play it safe.”

“Boring.”

“Besides,” she said. “It’s only where we’ll be sleeping. So what’s it matter? Not gonna be spending any more time there than I have to.” Her nose wrinkled. “It’s loud. And crowded.”

Natalie had had similar thoughts, and she was more sociable than Jordan. Who would spend their free time in the barracks? Better to head to the library, the guilds, explore campus, or whatever else. A student of Tenet shouldn’t have much free time, anyway. Not one who wanted to excel. Which, presumably, would be every student who’d made it into the prestigious academy.

“Where’s Sofia?” Jordan asked.

“Ugh. You know I got the bed next to hers?” Natalie realized she hadn’t answered the question, but Sofia’s name had dragged the response out instantly. The way a hand on a stove snapped back… or sour milk made someone gag. Natalie liked the second one. Much better for Sofia. “How would I know? She’ll show up.”

“You two got the same barracks?”

“Unfortunately.”

Jordan seemed amused by the development. “You two should work out your…” she paused. “Rivalry.”

“What was the pause for?”

“I was going to say hate-crush,” Jordan said, “but decided I didn’t want to start anything.” Natalie stared at her. Jordan laughed. She picked at her food, chewing then swallowing, before finally quirking an eyebrow at Natalie’s continued stare. “What?”

“You’ve ruined my appetite,” Natalie said. “Even as a joke.”

“Who said it was a joke?” Natalie faked nausea, pretending to heave onto her plate. “You’re such a drama queen,” Jordan said. “And, heads up, here she comes.”

Sofia slipped into the spot left of Natalie. Jordan had picked a four-seat table in the corner of the expansive cafeteria, so Sofia was between both of them. She unfolded a napkin and put it on her lap.

“Jordan. Natalie,” she said in introduction, nodding her head politely. “How’s your morning going?”

Natalie raised an eyebrow at Jordan, as if to emphasize, ‘See? This is the problem.’

Who did Sofia think she was? Why did she always act like this? So prim and proper. She was just some girl from the backwaters, same as Jordan and Natalie. Who the hell folded a napkin on their lap for cafeteria food? Gods, she was so pretentious.

‘Hate-crush’. Jordan’s previous words sent a shiver down her spine. As if. When it came to Sofia’s feigned royalty, the way she carried herself like a noblewoman with perfect assured confidence, Natalie was one thing: annoyed. It didn’t do anything for Natalie. Definitely not in that way, even in a rivalrous manner. And why did she always wear so much perfume? The fresh floral scent was distracting; she could barely think straight when Sofia was close. Gods, this girl was aggravating. Natalie was fidgeting just being near her.

Really, Natalie could only stand Sofia when they were in a sparring ring together. She wasn’t as annoying, or as much of a distraction—the aggravating kind—then. Though, losing to Sofia was a headache of its own. Why was she so good at fighting, when she was so perfect and dainty? Like some delicate piece of art? Er, that was too flattering of a comparison. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find a better one.

“Oh, fine enough,” Jordan said, answering Sofia’s question. “It was the same stuff for everyone, right? Tokens, guilds, extracurriculars?”

“And a lecture on abstinence,” Sofia said, lips quirking. “Did you all get that?” She picked up her knife and fork and began to eat, cutting into the slice of pork roast she’d picked out.

“Abstinence?” Natalie asked, amused. “Mine told us to use condoms.”

Sofia paused, the first chunk of food raised to her mouth. She finished placing it in her mouth, then chewed and swallowed. “Hm. Mine as well. I was avoiding being crude.” She brushed forward: “So, have you two chosen?”

“Chosen what?” Natalie asked.

“Your extracurriculars.”

“Herb gathering, probably,” Jordan offered first.

Sofia’s eyebrows went up, but Natalie’s didn’t. Natalie and Jordan had, of course, talked this over before coming to Tenet, so where Sofia hadn’t heard Jordan’s logic for the choice, Natalie had. Herb gathering initially seemed like an odd harvesting skill for Jordan to pursue, but it made sense with context.

Back at Tinford, Sofia had run in different circles than Natalie and Jordan. They rubbed shoulders often enough, being from the same town, and had done plenty of sparring together, as up-and-coming delvers, but they’d never been friends.

Maybe if Jordan and Natalie hadn’t been, then Jordan and Sofia would’ve spent more time around each other. The two of them had never seemed to clash like Sofia and Natalie did. Though, Natalie hadn’t a clue why. Sofia was just a generally irritating person, so Natalie didn’t know how Jordan tolerated her. Natalie’s skin grew hot whenever Sofia was close—that was how annoying she was.

“Herb gathering?” Sofia prompted.

“To help with my Class,” Jordan said. “One of my first level skills is ‘Poison-Coat’. So, you know.”

Sofia, an aspirant delver, didn’t need Jordan’s logic spelled out in detail. “Ah,” she said. “Then, to gather your own poisons. That makes sense.”

“Synergies are important,” Jordan said with a nod. “If I’m going to pick a harvesting skill, it might as well be one that fits with my Class. Can always change it. Hardly a permanent decision.”

“And you?” Natalie asked Sofia.

“Dueling.”

Natalie snorted, though she wasn’t sure why. It was a fine extracurricular, the most popular in the academy as Harper had said, and perfectly fitting to Sofia. Sofia literally referred to her Class as a ‘duelist’ Class, though that probably wasn’t its proper name.

Natalie knew first-hand how impossible beating Sofia in a one-on-one was. She’d do great in the dueling club. Natalie wondered how great, honestly. Tenet was filled with the best of the best. How did Sofia stack up on the national stage? Or international?

But even if the choice was reasonable, Natalie had needed to show some derision. Even when the situation didn’t call for it… or it didn’t make sense to do so. That was their dynamic. She and Sofia were always poking at each other. Natalie couldn’t help herself. Sofia’s presence, like it always did, had something boiling in Natalie, a pressure that needed to be vented. Hence, the gibes.

“And you?” Sofia asked politely.

Like right there. Natalie could see past Sofia’s ostensibly polite tone; she was making fun of Natalie. Probably. Somehow. She couldn’t figure out how, but she knew it was happening. “I dunno,” Natalie said sourly, poking at her food. “I’m thinking about it, still. I guess dueling wouldn’t be the worst. But now that I know you’re in it, I’m having second thoughts.” Sofia hummed. Natalie’s barbs never did seem to get to her.

“But picking a harvesting skill could be good, too,” Natalie added. “The funds would be nice.”

“You can do both. That’s what I plan on.”

“Yeah, but it’s a time commitment. Might be better to focus on one thing.” Time was the most limiting resource on the planet; one skill refined was another neglected. “Might focus on being down in the dungeon as much as possible.”

Sofia glanced at her. If Natalie didn’t know better, she’d say there’d been a flicker of concern. “Solo?”

Natalie shrugged. “Or duo—whoever I can find. Maybe. Some people do that. Too difficult to always have a full squad.”

“Just pace yourself,” Sofia said mildly. “You tend to rush headlong into things.”

There it was again—Sofia goading her. Implying Natalie couldn’t handle it. Well, she wouldn’t rise up to the bait, obvious as it was. Sofia would have to work harder than that to get a reaction out of her.

“How are we working getting our fourth and fifth?” Jordan asked.

“For the party?” Sofia asked. “Have you two met anyone?”

Natalie had intended to do some socializing, but she hadn’t gotten the chance. “Too busy,” she said. They’d arrived late to Tenet, and had to play catch up on the administrative tasks expected on intake day. “It might be smarter to wait until classes start, anyway.”

Sofia pursed her lips as she considered that. “That’s too limiting, I think. Classes are only sixteen students, and while it’d be convenient being in the same class, better to cast the net wider.”

“Then cast away,” Natalie said. She didn’t disagree; she’d probably try to get some names and faces from the different girls back at the barracks.

“Better to work quick,” Jordan added. “Before everyone settles down. I’d figure a decent portion already have parties, made before Tenet. We grouped up after all. It seems like everyone here knows each other.”

Natalie had noticed that too. Though, ‘everyone’ was going too far. A good portion of Tenet’s students were nobility or nobility connected… and nobility mingled with each other, obviously. Several likely had their adventuring parties structured before arriving to Tenet, or even being accepted. Many had grown up together, like she, Sofia, and Jordan.

Not that it was a problem how many of the nobility associated students were already teamed up. She’d rather not deal with those stuffy types, so it didn’t matter to her. A fake princess—Sofia—was enough of a headache, much less a real one.

“We’ll have some time,” Sofia said. “There’s no rush. I doubt people will move that quickly. They’ll want to get a feel for everyone. Where the talent is, and what everyone’s Classes are. The dungeon isn’t open to first-weekers, and I doubt even when it is, parties will be cemented.” She hummed. “The best thing we can do is prove ourselves, tomorrow morning. Draw attention from other talent. And, we should focus on finding personalities we can mesh with, too. That’s as important as functional compatibility.”

Natalie found the statement a bit amusing, seeing how she and Sofia had tentatively grouped up. Obviously, they weren’t ‘compatible’. Though, their partying up was more out of necessity and familiarity than anything. Sofia—or Natalie and Jordan—could very well split apart in the future, for a team that better fit them. These were just loose plans.

“But still best to get a move on,” Jordan repeated. “We can’t expect things to fall into place.”

“Exactly,” Sofia said.

*****

Uniform fitting went smoother than Natalie had feared they would, to her relief. A young woman went about taking Natalie’s measurements, and while some of the adjustments involved tugging and inspecting that invaded her personal space, Natalie never needed to be overly paranoid about her secret revealing itself. She was given a room to change, when necessary.

Tenet’s colors—and the uniform’s—were blue and gold. Uniforms were expected to be worn throughout the academic day, from eight in the morning to five in the evening, but beyond those hours, students were permitted to wear what they wanted.

The fabrics themselves were quality, a consistent theme when it came to Tenet and its supplies, buildings, and materials. The clothing was breathable, designed for comfort and flexibility. They were, after all, intended to be used during combat training as well as the rest of their daily schedule.

Equipment, like armor and other gear—specifically, the magical sort collected from the dungeon, or made by artificers, that enhanced stats—were supposed to be worn on delves only, not on campus. Tenet discouraged relying on equipment, at least during training, which was another fortunate aspect to student life that evened the playing field, same as the token system.

Because obviously Natalie had no powerful heirlooms to inherit, as some students here would. However disadvantaged Natalie, Sofia, and Jordan were when it came to connections, they at least wouldn’t lag in the more mundane ways. The playing grounds were even in many regards… though admittedly not all.

Weapons, on the other hand, were allowed—the exception to the equipment policy, because of how critical they were to general combat styles. However, following the theme of Tenet wanting students to prove themselves, only weapons collected from the dungeon, or purchased through the token system, could be used.

Natalie was sure some people cheated to get around that rule; obviously, it could be hard or impossible to prove a student hadn’t received a particular item from a dungeon run. So in some regards, the well-connected and wealthy could find ways to excel using their money. But Natalie knew faculty were watching for that, and perhaps had ways of sussing out those sorts of infractions. In the end, it didn’t matter. It was what it was.

The Tenet uniform was layered: the first was the combat uniform, a tighter-fitting, more utilitarian layer, and the stuffier, showier jacket, and glossy black shoes, were required to be worn while attending classes—the regular academic sort—as well as when out and about during school hours. Even the more complex outer layer wasn’t horrible, though. A comfortable uniform all around, if a bit flashier than Natalie liked.

But she’d admit she looked impressive in them, from the glances she’d stolen in mirrors at the uniform-fitting building. Well-made uniforms tended to have that effect, and Natalie’d never much cared for fashion, so it was even more noticeable in her case. She looked sharp. Professional.

Natalie chose the skirt bottoms rather than the pants. The roomier, pleated article of clothing would make her secret easier to hide… though Sofia was sure to give her odd looks, because Natalie otherwise would have chosen the pants, and Sofia knew it—Natalie wasn’t a skirt girl. Just, the pants were too tight fitting. Natalie hadn’t had a choice.

The day wrapped up quickly; it was a shorter schedule than most would be. Around 3:30, Natalie’s uniform fitting completed, and, with nothing else planned for the day, she was free to roam campus. Tomorrow would be the first real day of classes, starting at a strict 8:00 a.m. Finally released, Natalie dropped off her uniforms, hanging them in her locker, then sought out Jordan.

Jordan’s barracks—barracks two—was identical to Natalie’s. Students were trickling back, bit by bit, having finished their fittings and likewise lugging back their sets of uniforms on thick coat hangers. Jordan had, in a similar manner to she and Sofia, gotten a bed in one of the worse positions in the hall: directly in the middle. That probably grated at Jordan more than it had Natalie. She would have preferred to tuck herself in the corner, where she could have some minor form of privacy.

Natalie plopped down on Jordan’s bed. Jordan was sitting cross-legged, reading. She’d been waiting for Natalie to arrive; if Natalie had finished first, she’d have waited at her barracks for Jordan. They’d agreed on that during lunch.

“So,” Natalie said. “Where do you wanna go?”

Jordan ignored her for a few moments, finishing the last paragraph or two of whatever she’d been reading. Finally, she placed a bookmark between the pages and looked up.

“Somewhere private,” she said. “I’m not sure. Where do you think?”

‘Somewhere private’. Because they had… business to handle.

They’d discovered the cooldown to Natalie’s strangest skill. Or, her second strangest skill, since [Heavy Weaponry] took the title of most bizarre. But her other, [Harvest], which gave her a secondary advancement resource for performing certain less-than-appropriate acts on other girls was a close second.

The cooldown was around a day, in truth a bit shorter, to allow for flexibility, she supposed. Twenty-one hours, maybe. For the last week she and Jordan had been making good use of it. Natalie needed the energy. And it was time for their next session—it couldn’t stop now that they’d arrived at Tenet. But it had become trickier to arrange the event, lacking privacy.

Natalie had been trying not to think about how much she looked forward… and was scared of… each of their kissing sessions. They didn’t mean anything—beyond Jordan demonstrating how good of a friend she was—but they were severely compromising, regardless that they shouldn’t be. But Natalie didn’t have much choice; she needed to energy to advance her skills. Having received a terribly unfitting Class—at least in some aspects—Natalie needed to make good use of everything she had at her disposal.

So, frequent meet-ups with Jordan. And they couldn’t half-ass it, either. The skill gave different amounts of energy based on the passion behind the kisses. So they had to put effort in… had to really go at it. Couldn’t keep things chaste and quick, which would’ve been way too easy. No, Natalie needed give her best friend a good tongue fucking, assuming she wanted to make maximal use of the skill. Totally not something devastating to Natalie’s resolve.

Her fallback was simple: not thinking too hard about what the kisses did to her. Denial was an age-old tried and true tactic, and it was working great for Natalie.

“I guess… the bathrooms?” Natalie wasn’t sure where else they could take care of things, where they wouldn’t be caught. They had no room, obviously, and maybe they could tuck themselves in the corner of a library, or secluded in the park, but those weren’t guaranteed to be private. Anyone could wander by.

“The bathroom. Romantic,” Jordan said, rolling her eyes. But she didn’t fault the reasoning. She set her book aside and stood. “Well, let’s go, then.”

Natalie’s heart hammered as she followed behind, even though, again, it shouldn’t have. Just friends, she firmly reminded herself.

*****

Natalie explored Jordan’s mouth, the kiss—as it always did—having grown to a fevered intensity. Neither pretended they weren’t enjoying each other’s wet, struggling mouths. Jordan’s hands roamed Natalie’s back, dipping to less discreet places before quickly resetting, as if catching herself. Natalie’s hands stayed on Jordan’s hips, likewise itching to go farther. It was hard to indulge like this and keep restrained.

But this was just a kiss. A strictly practical one, however much fun. Even if they got caught up in desire—their biological reactions—it couldn’t go further.

Jordan moaned into her mouth, and the sound washed through Natalie, setting her skin on fire. It was incredible what Jordan’s presence did to Natalie. It had to be because of why they were kissing—the strange nature of everything that had the thrill rushing through her. Because obviously Natalie wasn’t intoxicated by Jordan for that reason. Not romance, of any sort.

Gasping, Jordan finally pulled back. It was always Jordan that broke the kiss. Honestly, Natalie might rather pass out than separate from Jordan’s mouth. Not that it meant anything. Jordan was just a good kisser. Natalie liked basking in the sensation.

“So,” Jordan finally said, panting. “You’ll need to start picking girls up, soon. Just me isn’t enough. Any plans, there?”

Like always, it took effort to steady her spinning head and respond normally… to reply in a way that didn’t blatantly give away that Jordan’s tongue had turned her brain to mush. It wasn’t fair how amazing Jordan’s mouth was—the way she moved her tongue and lips against Natalie’s own. Though, Natalie fought back well enough. The flush on Natalie’s face was matched by Jordan’s.

Choosing the skirt for her uniform had been a good idea. Natalie was rock-hard, but her tight underwear, combine with the looseness and thick pleats of the skirt, meant nothing showed. Not that Jordan hadn’t felt it, pressed in as close as she was. But at least she couldn’t see it.

Once she advanced the skill, and it got bigger, though, even the skirt wouldn’t hide it. That was still weird to think about. And… exciting? For some reason? The idea tantalized her. How large would it get, down the line? After several advancements? If it started at six inches, she felt like there was good odds it would become a monster pretty fast. And, while titillating, that would be inconvenient. Six inches wasn’t horribly difficult to hide, but eight? Ten? Or bigger, if it grew faster than she thought? Problems for later.

“Dunno,” Natalie said, finally replying to Jordan’s question—on how she’d need to start picking up girls. “It’s gonna be hard, for sure.”

“Hard? You’re great at flirting.”

“Eh.” Natalie wasn’t sold on that. She’d done well back home, but then again, she’d been interesting. Muscles, ambition, on track for becoming an adventurer—maybe even a delver. Flings hadn’t been hard to find when competition had been so weak. Here, Natalie was nothing special. “It’s different here.”

“From the sounds of orientation,” Jordan said dryly, “it should be easier than back home.”

Natalie paused, remembering Harper’s insistence that students use condoms. A group of ambitious, stressed students would be going at it like rabbits; maybe that made up for Natalie’s previous reasoning. Maybe it wouldn’t be that hard to find girls who could ‘help’ with Natalie’s Class.

“I guess,” Natalie said. “Still, I’m going to be busy. That throws a wrench in things.”

“This is how your Class advances,” she pointed out. “An alternate way, at least. It’s part of your duties. You’ll have to make time for it.”

Natalie shook her head, bewildered. Not that Jordan wasn’t right—she was—but at how her daily training routine was going to include picking up girls. Weird. Not that she was complaining. It might not be as straightforward as training with weapons and practicing her skills, but… maybe a more pleasant way to advance in strength. Maybe Natalie should be grateful, even. Grateful? Well, she wouldn’t go that far. The strangeness of everything stopped her from being outright pleased. Her bizarre Class had made her future plans so uncertain—and had been no small source of stress.

“Yeah,” Natalie said. “I know. But anyway, this ought to do it, right?”

“The last bit of energy you needed,” Jordan said. “You said you were just a sliver away, last time you banked it.”

Natalie nodded.

“Well, go ahead,” Jordan said. “Tell me what it changes to.”

Natalie closed her eyes and focused inward.

***
Carnal Energy: 5
***

The quantity she harvested varied. What exact factors determined the number, Natalie couldn’t know for sure. Passion, to name one. They’d wasted the skill, once, by trying to keep things too chaste, hence why Natalie hadn’t already earned enough to level [Carnal Harvest] up, which they’d been slowly working toward. She focused the energy into the skill, funneling it using her [Advance] skill.

***
[Carnal Harvest]: Progression advanced from 1 to 2.
***

***
[Carnal Harvest] - PASSIVE. PROGRESSION 2. Extract carnal energy through {fondling} an aroused target. Harvested energy can be expended through [Empower] and [Advance].
***

Natalie opened her eyes. As she’d predicted, advancing the progression had modified the description in the emphasized portion of text from kissing to fondling.

“Well?” Jordan asked.

“It’s, uh. What we guessed.” Natalie didn’t need to specify. The two of them had theorized on the skill, and Natalie’s Class in general. Less than they ought to have, though. It was an awkward subject.

“So, fondling?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh,” Jordan said. She was quiet a second, studying Natalie. Then, her lips quirked. “Do you think it matters where?”

“Where?”

“Where you fondle,” Jordan pointed out. “There’s a lot of options, you know.”

“Uh,” Natalie said. Her eyes flicked down to Jordan’s chest…then lower. A lot of options. Yeah. There definitely were. “I guess it’s best to be thorough. So, everywhere?”

It’d been intended as a joke… kind of. Unfortunately—amazingly?—Jordan nodded in agreement. “Think the cooldown reset with the level-up? Should we go right away?”

“We’ve got a few things to test,” Jordan said easily, as if Natalie wasn’t seconds away from having her hands on her tits, massaging away. “First, whether kissing and groping together gives more energy, rather than one or the other. For that matter, whether the next ‘tier’ wiped the old one away, when you got it. Does kissing still give energy?”

“I think so,” Natalie said, fairly confident in her answer. Intuition didn’t always show up when puzzling over one’s Class, but when it did, it was usually reliable. Natalie was pretty sure any of the previous ‘collection methods’ would work when she upgraded her [Harvest] skill. The progression just indicated the ‘maximum act’ she could earn Energy from. So, kissing was still on the table. Though, whether both in the same session would give more, she wasn’t sure. It was a good question.

A good question she only paid half a mind to. Natalie’s heart had been pounding from their kissing, already, but now its frantic excitement doubled. “I guess that’s possible,” she said, impressed at her voice’s stability.

As for the truth of what she thought: Natalie had no clue. Maybe the cooldown had reset, maybe it hadn’t. But if saying yes meant she got to… She shook her thoughts clear. They were doing this for functional reasons. Natalie couldn’t let herself want this. She’d take pleasure in it for what it was, because she couldn’t help herself, and it was a biological reaction—Jordan got excited too—but she couldn’t forget what was happening. But still. She got to… touch Jordan?

“Well,” Jordan said, hands going to Natalie’s wrists, grabbing and guiding them up. “Get to it, won’t you?”

Jordan guided Natalie’s hands up to her chest, and Natalie squeezed lightly, prompted by Jordan. For a moment, Natalie just stood there, frozen, her thoughts whiting out. She was hardly a virgin, and this was just some over-the-clothes groping, but it was Jordan. She had her hands on Jordan’s tits. Not some random hookup, but Jordan. Her best friend. It was so different from other encounters as to be comical. It didn’t remotely compare.

Jordan hesitated, some of her amused nonchalance fading from her face, uncertainty replacing it. Natalie realized she’d stayed frozen longer than appropriate. Any freezing at all had been inappropriate. This shouldn’t be something Natalie was awkward about.

Natalie might be stunned, but if there was one thing she wouldn’t do, it was make Jordan hesitant. It was Natalie’s job to take charge. That was how their dynamic always worked. Really, this was—bizarrely—the one exception to that rule. Jordan pursued this aspect of Natalie’s Class with more dedication than even Natalie. She wondered why.

Probably, she knew Natalie was weirded out by her Class and wanted to encourage her. Or maybe she wanted to make clear she was willing to help Natalie, and knew Natalie wouldn’t push Jordan into doing stuff like this by herself.

Natalie plastered on her trademark sideways grin. She’d been told she had a ‘roguish appeal’. She pretended it wasn’t cultivated… but truthfully, it kind of was. Natalie wasn’t like Sofia, who needed perfect hair and a perfect outfit every time she went out, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care how people perceived her. Anyone who said that was lying to themselves. Natalie tried to keep lying to herself to a minimum.

“Bet this isn’t how you thought our first day at Tenet would go,” Natalie joked. She tried to ignore how her hands were on Jordan’s tits, squeezing and kneading, and failed.

“Second day, technically,” Jordan murmured. Her face was scarlet—Natalie’s hands worked away, rubbing in a gentle rhythm. She had her bra on, and Natalie could feel it through her uniform. Maybe that was a good thing. It protected Natalie from melting down entirely.

“Second day,” Natalie said, rolling her eyes. “Whatever.”

Could Jordan see through her? She always had been able to, before. She had to know what was happening to Natalie. Had to know the smirk and eager movements of her hands was a farce, and that Natalie was a few seconds from catching fire. She was surprised she wasn’t radiating steam, right now.

“My bra’s getting in the way,” Jordan said. “Go ahead and go from under.”

Ah, shit. Well, Natalie had to keep the act up. Hesitating once had already made Jordan nervous, and this was Natalie’s cross to bear. She had to be the one totally at ease, to help Jordan be the same.

Jordan had told her to ‘go from under’, but the uniform’s buttoned top was too unwieldy for that. She popped open the buttons of the top half, exposing Jordan’s bra. It was a black, lacy thing… surprisingly fancy. She hadn’t dressed up for this, had she?

Obviously not. What was Natalie thinking? She just guessed Jordan liked wearing lacy bras. Never mind Natalie had seen Jordan half-dressed plenty of times before, and she’d always worn practical undergarments… plain ones, not lacy. Maybe it was coincidence she’d worn something fancy today, despite knowing Natalie’s skill would progress, and it would probably result in… this.

Her hands wiggled underneath Jordan’s bra, and so Natalie had two handfuls of her best friend’s tits. Those hard nubs brushing against her fingers were Jordan’s nipples. Fascinated—something primal overtaking Natalie—she pinched them, making Jordan squeak in surprise. The noise did something to Natalie. The awkwardness and tension vanished. Natalie wanted to hear the sound again. Wanted to extract it.

She pinched harder. Another gasp, and Jordan arched her back. Her eyes widened, surprised as Natalie’s sudden boldness. Natalie leaned forward and bit Jordan’s lower lip, gently, then tugged it back with her teeth. Jordan closed her eyes and moaned. The noise washed across Natalie.

“Nat?” Jordan gasped.

Natalie pushed Jordan against the stall wall, pinning her. She stepped to the side so she could bury her upper thigh between Jordan’s legs. Provided that firm pressure, Jordan rubbed instinctively, bucking her lower half into Natalie’s thigh. She froze, realizing what she’d done, but Natalie rubbed back. Jordan groaned, and Natalie captured the noise with her mouth. They kissed. Natalie’s hands massaged away at Jordan’s tits, flicking and pinching her nipples, kneading her and drowning in the sensation of Jordan’s soft skin.

Did this count as groping? Natalie’s thigh pressed against Jordan’s pussy, which she was rubbing against? Not really… was the farce breaking, then? Were they just rubbing against each other for pleasure? Natalie couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“Be thorough, remember?” Jordan gasped, pulling back from the kiss. “Maybe… more Energy.”

With her groping, Jordan meant. Sure. She could do that. Natalie wrapped her hands around Jordan’s waist and turned her around, then tugged her down onto her lap, sitting on the closed toilet seat. Jordan’s ass pressed into her cock, agonizing in the pressure it provided. Jordan rubbed back and forth, and this time, it was Natalie who groaned.

One hand went up, slithering back into Jordan’s bra, and continued to play. The other groped a more sensitive area. It was over layers of clothing, but Natalie had her hand on Jordan’s pussy. Rubbing. She was rubbing her best friend’s pussy, trying to get her off. That was normal, right? Just part of her Class.

Natalie wasn’t the only one teasing. Jordan humped back and forth, sliding her ass against Natalie’s cock. She couldn’t describe how good it felt. Their kisses had gotten her so worked up, she already felt close to bursting. As in, way too close. After so much foreplay, and the general heat of the situation, Jordan rubbing her butt into Natalie’s cock had her moments from coming apart.

“Jordan,” Natalie groaned. “I don’t think you should… you’re going to…”

Jordan moved Natalie’s hands away from her sensitive areas, then awkwardly repositioned herself, so she was on Natalie’s lap, but facing her. She picked up speed, rubbing herself against Natalie’s crotch with reinvigorated passion.

“You’re going to cum for me?” Jordan breathed. “Is that what you’re trying to say? You’re going to empty yourself in your pretty little skirt, on the first day of class? For me? Go ahead. Do it.” She humped desperately against Natalie. The act was gone. This wasn’t groping. This was Jordan coaxing out Natalie’s orgasm using her rocking hips, rubbing herself into Natalie’s cock.

She couldn’t resist. Not the sensation, not Jordan’s naughty words, spoken so breathlessly, and definitely not Jordan’s flushed face, eyes darkened with lust. Natalie grabbed Jordan’s waist and humped back. She barely lasted a few more seconds before it crashed into her. She shuddered, then groaned and arched her hips forward, finding as much pressure as she could against Jordan’s ass. Jordan kept grinding, milking her out with desperate motions.

Natalie came. Her cock shot out sticky white strings into her panties, dampening the fabric, quickly drenching the outer layer, too. Her skirt. The one she’d had for an hour or two at most. Fuck, she was staining it. Her cock, and body, didn’t care. She emptied herself over and over, coaxed out by Jordan’s humping motions. She reached such an unbelievable high she couldn’t believe the fire coursing through her veins. And how many times her cock seized and pumped. Every time she thought it was about to be over, Jordan worked out a few more twitches, desperate to milk her.

Finally, Jordan’s motions stilled. Sticky warmth clung to Natalie’s thighs and cock. There was a dark stain covering an unfortunate amount of area. She’d soaked herself. And Jordan’s pants too, if less so.

“Fuck,” Natalie groaned, coming down slowly, and staring at the dark spot. “Look what you did, Jordan.”

“In my defense,” Jordan said. “I didn’t know you’d create this much of a mess.”

Natalie stayed collapsed on the closed toilet seat, unable to move—the heat that had washed through her had left her immobile, exhausted. Jordan’s humping hips had drawn something out of her she’d never experienced. “Right,” Natalie said. “And what did you think would happen again?”

Her skirt was horribly stained. It radiated from her mid-thigh and down to mix with the wet slick coating her pussy lips, some of the squishy darkness even reaching over to her other leg. Jordan had stirred it around with her motions. And, she was right. Natalie had cum a lot. More than even in the shower, which had already been more than normal—not that she would know, but sheesh, it made a mess.

How couldn’t she have put out more than usual? When it’d been Jordan making it happen?

“And I figured having you finish might give more Energy,” Jordan said. “That’s why I did that.”

Her cheeks were flushed. Natalie thought it was an odd reasoning, but she accepted it instantly. “That makes sense,” she said. “But look at my skirt, Jordan.”

“Look at my pants,” she pointed out. “I hardly escaped.”

Jordan’s uniform pants were stained, if not remotely as much as Natalie’s skirt. Fuck, that was Natalie’s cum covering Jordan. The idea thrilled through her, almost intense enough to start hardening again, despite how thoroughly she’d been milked.

“But it’s fine,” Jordan said. She started unraveling toilet paper and stuffing it down her pants. She dabbed at the dark spot, working at collecting the wetness. “Mine isn’t horrible. Once it dries, I’ll go grab one of your other skirts, and you can change. We’ll be fine.”

Natalie started cleaning herself up. However mind-blowing that finish had been, it had resulted in a horrible inconvenient situation. Did cum stain? It had to. Fuck, she was seriously soaked down there. If it did stain, then Natalie was down a skirt. After having cleaned themselves up best they could, Jordan leaned against the stall wall. Natalie stayed seated. She was still a bit shaky.

“So,” Jordan said. “Gotta wait things out, let it dry. Guess we can talk in the meantime.”

Talk? Natalie froze. Talk about what?

“How much energy did you get?” Jordan asked.

Oh. That. Not… anything else. Not ‘them’. Were they really ignoring what had happened, though? Well… Natalie supposed there wasn’t anything to talk about. Just another session to help Natalie earn energy. It’d gotten carried away, but not for any special reasons. Just some lust. They were only human.

***
Carnal Energy: 24
***

Natalie’s eyebrows went up. “Wow,” she said. “It went up by eighteen.”

“Three times higher yield,” Jordan said. “Think it’s because… you finished?” She gestured at Natalie’s crotch. “That was what I was testing, after all.”

There was a nervousness to Jordan’s words, distinctly uncharacteristic. Natalie ignored it. “Maybe.” Natalie huffed. “No baseline. But still, three times more is pretty good.”

Jordan’s tension eased, Natalie not addressing her flimsy excuse for what had happened. “It was a good choice to rush for that upgrade, then.”

“We thought it would be.” Obviously, advancing the skill that earned energy for other skills would be the best choice from an efficiency standpoint. Sure, Natalie had been given no additional strength, as she might have gotten by upgrading her illusion skill, but it meant she could advance other skills faster, now. “Do we go straight for the third tier?”

Jordan bit her lip. “I wouldn’t think you can just keep rushing it over and over. You’ll want to work on other skills. I bet your next upgrade will take much longer, but the others are still cheap.”

“To encourage even distribution.”

“Yeah. Maybe you should—“

The bathroom door shoved open, bringing with it the ambient noises of the barracks. Jordan’s eyes widened; they’d picked this bathroom because it was out of the way. This was the first visitor the entire time they’d been here. They had assumed they wouldn’t have any.

“Get your feet up,” Jordan whispered. She shuffled into place, in front of the toilet, and turned around.

Natalie tugged her feet up, putting her shoes on the toilet seat. She understood what Jordan was going for—this way, there was only one pair of feet to see under the stall door, in proper position. Not a perfect solution, seeing how Jordan’s pants weren’t down around her ankles as they should be, but hopefully that wouldn’t be noticed. Or, even if so, it wasn’t the strangest thing in the world to be sitting on the toilet, clothed. Odd, definitely. But not enough to draw suspicion, like two pairs of feet.

Unfortunately, Jordan’s quick thinking meant Jordan’s ass was now shoved right in front of Natalie’s face. Fuck, the Tenet uniform really showed off her curves.

Natalie’s cock started to harden. She looked away, embarrassed. They’d already performed their… energy gathering… for the day, so Natalie couldn’t hide behind that excuse. Plus, she’d been pretty thoroughly drained. She didn’t need a second session. They stayed like that, awkwardly, until the woman left. They were alone in the bathroom.

Jordan leaned back against the stall door. Natalie put her feet down. Her cock pushed against her skirt, making an obvious bulge. Flushing, Natalie adjusted it so it sat down, less noticeable. Jordan quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Hey,” Natalie said. “It’s not my fault you’ve got two handfuls worth of ass.” Like usual, Natalie’s embarrassment had spurred her on. She almost regretted the words, but then Jordan smirked.

“You say that, but you didn’t pay it much attention, did you? You were supposed to be thorough with your groping.”

“I was going to,” Natalie said pointedly, “but then you turned around and started humping me, if you haven’t forgotten.”

Jordan shrugged, nonchalant. “Be quicker next time.” She brushed forward. “As we were saying, though. Picking your next skill. I’ve been wondering—do you think making it bigger does anything?”

“Uh. What do you mean?”

“More than just size. [Heavy Weaponry] has to have a practical effect, too, right? Maybe something that’s not stated outright? Plenty of skills are like that.”

“No clue.”

“It would make sense. Though, I haven’t a clue what the effect would be. Maybe a bigger tool gives more Energy?”

“So you think I should go for that next?”

“Probably not,” Jordan admitted. “Just musing. I think you should put a bit into [Harvest], see how much it advances. Then, if it’s a long ways away, work on upgrading everything else from one to two. Or… we’ll make that judgment later. But we need to know how far from progression three you are.” She paused. “I wonder what the next ‘tier’ is.”

From ‘fondling’. Natalie could see a few possibilities. Oral? Orgasm of any sort? Straight to penetration? Maybe something more specific, like a thigh-job. Fuck, a thighjob. Would Jordan let her? Natalie really, really shouldn’t think about it.

Natalie closed her eyes, then did as Jordan suggested, funneling Energy to [Carnal Harvest]. Only a few points… and the image of pink liquid sloshing into an orb appeared in her mind. It barely scratched the surface. She opened her eyes. “It’s like you said,” Natalie said. “A few points barely did anything.”

“Then you might as well work on your other skills. We know that you can get twenty-four Energy from kissing and fondling each day. You’ll need to see if adding more partners will work before you have a reasonable way to reach the next [Harvest] tier.”

More partners. Yeah… she still needed to figure out how she was going to go about that.

*****

Fortunately, Jordan’s plan worked. Once she was appropriate for leaving the bathroom, the dark stain mostly dried—to the point of being less noticeable, at least—she went and changed pants, then returned to Natalie with a fresh skirt from her locker.

Changed, Natalie stuffed the ruined one in her backpack. Getting it clean was going to be a headache. Maybe she’d end up throwing it away, and deal with being down one. Eventually, she’d have enough tokens to buy a fresh set—though Tenet uniforms weren’t cheap.

Overall, a minor headache. Though… maybe worth it, considering how it had happened. After escaping the bathroom without drawing any eyes because of the mishap, she had to deal with the other inconveniences the debacle had resulted in. The stickiness on her legs and thighs. So, a shower.

It was less of an ordeal than she had feared, taking an afternoon shower rather than one early in the morning. There were two others in the block she picked, and while she had to carry her change of clothes into the shower stall while mostly clothed—unlike the seeming norm of undressing at the lockers—nobody gave her an odd look for doing so. As she’d thought, being a mild prude wasn’t something anyone particularly cared about. Maybe eventually someone would say something… but then again, probably not.

So maybe even she could even sleep in, rather than waking so early like she had. Except… no, she had other reasons to be starting the day early. Her ‘relief’. Her libido did, clearly, need to be kept in check. The skirt was better at hiding her issue than tight pants, but still not perfect. Ignoring her problem wouldn’t make it go away, and indeed, would only make things worse. So, it might be best to continue waking up early and relieving herself.

Dressed and ready to go out again—since there was still several hours before curfew—she met Jordan at her barracks, who had likewise showered and changed into something more casual. They set off for their first item of business: the role guilds.

The role guilds were odd institutions. Like Harper had touched on, they’d been more critical in old days—had been closer to entities of themselves, and persisted even past graduation. Now, at least from what she had heard, they weren’t much more than… Well, fraternities.

They still had a practical purpose for existing: they were conglomeration points for similarly-Classed individuals to mingle. Harper had specifically mentioned ‘networking’ inside the role guild—who better to learn your Class than from peers with a Class similar to yours?

And even if skills didn’t match up to a ‘typical role’, the role itself had independent principles to learn. A tank needed to draw attention and keep teammates safe; how to do each could be taught, in some regard, independently of skills and Class.

Jordan’s role was determined: rogue. Natalie’s, however, was more in flux. Funny enough, as her Class evolved, she might find herself falling into any of the other four roles that Jordan didn’t fill: tank, fighter, mage, or healer. The last two were unlikely; almost certainly it would be tank or fighter.

For now, she intended to check out all four guilds. Why not? If nothing else, she’d get to meet people and learn more about Tenet. Eventually, Natalie would have to lock herself into no more than two guilds—so, probably fighter and tank, or tank and mage—but since the year had just started, the guilds were recruiting, and expecting newcomers to be feeling the various groups out. It wouldn’t be odd if she looked around several.

The guild halls were separated from the campus, a decent—though not overly long—hike from everything else. Their isolation, Natalie suspected, was at least somewhat intentional. Even she had heard how much trouble the guilds got into. As she’d mused over, in the modern day and age, they were effectively frats, as much as they were the guilds of old. The parties thrown in the various guildhalls were allegedly legendary. Tenet’s student body knew how to both work hard and play hard. Again, likely a by-product of a stressful, competitive environment.

As the guilds came into view, Natalie’s eyebrows raised, and Jordan hummed in appreciation. The five buildings ringing the enormous open area—the Union Plaza—were impressive even by Tenet standards. Each of the five guilds sat at the point of a five-tip paved star—the Plaza. More than any individual structure’s grandness, though, it was their dissimilarity to each other: the character behind each. Certain roles tended to attract certain sorts of people, and she could almost make out those stereotypes in the construction of each hall.

Each had its own thematic color: white for healer, yellow for tank, blue for mage, red for fighter, and black for rogue. Likewise, each guildhall flew a prominent flag from the tops of their buildings, adorned with the simplistic—yet striking—icons associated to the role. The caduceus, a tower shield, a wizard’s hat, an axe, and a wicked curved dagger. These symbols were common for adventurers and delvers alike—they were the symbols imprinted on badges that declared a person’s role, used the world over. However, the flags were more elegant, more detailed than their more-common counterparts. The bare-bones symbols were expanded upon with a flourish.

Honestly, some bordered on gaudy. The mage’s flag especially; the top and bottom were lined with gold bands, and speckling the wizard’s hat were arcane symbols—crescent moons, stars, and odder—of various sorts. Mages did tend to be a pretentious sort, from what Natalie had seen. But maybe that was her bitterness speaking, because of how utterly incapable she was when it came to spellcasting. Easy to call them pretentious nerds and be done with it. She’d have to get over that. She’d probably be asking plenty of mage-guild members for help over the coming weeks, months, and years.

Since tank was the role Natalie would be filling for the party she, Jordan, and Sofia were cobbling together, she headed that way after saying her goodbyes with Jordan; Jordan, obviously, went for the rogue’s guild.

Natalie admired the tank’s guildhall as she approached. Each structure was impressive, but in different ways. The tank’s guildhall was, expectedly, stoic. It was a fortress more than a building, a slab of carved gray stone, crenellations and battlements lining the top. Windows were covered by thick iron bars, and the front door was flanked on either side by two statues: both hunkered down, shield raised against an unseen blow. As she finished climbing the steps, she peered around to catch a glimpse of their faces, but thick helms hid them from sight. It was odd how much emotion was packed into the statues, even so.

She didn’t linger; she finished walking into the guildhall proper, carried along by the steady stream of other students. She was hardly the only freshmen to have come checking out the guilds, having finished with uniform fittings. Inside, she blinked around at what she saw. The exterior of the guild had been medieval, appropriately stereotypical of tanks and impressive at once, but inside… inside was, well, mundane.

Typically modern—the same as the rest of campus. Natalie had somehow expected the stoic design to have carried on to the interior. Though, she supposed, that would’ve been inconvenient. This was a functional building, however much the showmanship of the Union Plaza and five guildhalls suggested otherwise.

A banner streamed from one wall to the other, reading, ‘WELCOME FRESHMEN!’.

Too mundane. Natalie had gotten her expectations up, seeing the guild’s outward presentation. Natalie had barely trailed into the lobby before somebody appeared next to her, slinging their arm onto her shoulder. She didn’t tense, though maybe someone like Jordan would have—Natalie didn’t have much problems with people being touchy, though she wouldn’t say she liked it.

“Good to see you, frosh,” the boy—probably a member of the guild, a recruiter of some sort—said. “You’ve made the right choice, joining the tank’s guild.”

Natalie eyed the arm draped on her shoulder, then raised an eyebrow at him. He had a sideways grin plastered on his face, and shaggy blond hair. Blunt features—handsome, rugged, straightforwardly masculine. He had wide shoulders and a powerful build, even compared to most Tenet students… one which did little to nothing for her, considering her terminal case of gayness, but which explained his easy confidence. Natalie could tell a boy who wasn’t used to rejection.

At Natalie’s raised eyebrow, he didn’t remove his arm, only grinned wider. So she removed it for him, shaking it off. He didn’t take offense, so that was some sort of credit to him.

“I made the right choice?” she repeated. “That’s hopeful. I’m just looking around.”

“Nah, I can tell a tank when I see one. You’re more refined than those rabid dogs we call neighbors.”

The fighter’s guild was to the left of tank’s guild—their ‘neighbor’. Natalie found herself giving the boy an amused look. More refined? Her? “Well, you’ve got a horrible read on people,” she said. “I’m more fighter than tank. Just, my Class means I might be better suited here.”

The boy hummed. “Well, then the tank’s guild could always use a new perspective,” he said, pivoting easily. “Some fire in its ranks. So, I’m glad you’re leaning toward us. You won’t regret it.”

Natalie found herself entertained at how easily he had adjusted his opinion: from ‘rabid dogs’ to ‘some fire could be a good thing’. His twinkling eyes told Natalie he knew exactly what he was doing. Not a person afraid of saying whatever he needed in order to sway someone. Shameless about it, too.

“Why would you even care?” She knew the guilds did their best to recruit, but for what reason? “You get something for having more members?”

“More funding, to name one.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Which means bigger parties. But more than that…” he looked her up and down, slowly, then flashed another smile. “Well, the more the merrier, right?”

Natalie figured she ought to say it. She knew what was happening… if the wiggle of his eyebrows that had accompanied the last statement, and his not-so-polite up and down, hadn’t made it clear.

“I’m gay.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “How strictly?”

“Very?”

He swiveled, changing direction. Natalie swerved with him. Somehow, she hadn’t even realized she’d been following him further into the lobby. He’d swept her up in his wake, Natalie falling into step naturally. She wasn’t attracted to him, but he had a magnetism of a different sort. A passive leadership, that made her follow. That was a tank for you. Most tanks were their party’s leader.

“Well, then, Sammy will take great care of you,” he said. “Have fun!” He patted her on the back then was gone before she registered what had happened. A blonde girl stood next to Natalie, looking even more bewildered than Natalie herself.

“But… I’m not doing freshmen tours…” Sammy trailed off. She looked at Natalie. “Um. Why did Alden leave you with me?”

Natalie took Sammy in, though more subtly than Alden had her. She was tall and powerful-looking, as Alden was—as many tanks were. Alden’s width and defined arms were nice in abstract, aesthetic way, but on Sammy? Natalie was much more appreciative. Combining that build with soft curves and golden locks framing a round face and a blocky, prominent nose, which, despite maybe not being conventionally attractive, kind of did something for her. Natalie was a fan.

“Let’s see,” Natalie said. “He hit on me, twice, so I told him I was gay. Two seconds later, he dropped me off with you. So… I can make a few guesses.”

Sammy flushed, then glared at the blond boy’s back, who was prowling through the guild’s entry hall, looking for new prey. Natalie respected his singular focus, if nothing else. And, though it’d been rude to take interest in Natalie then dump her, he hadn’t particularly tried to come off as ‘friendly’ in a normal way. He’d accepted her rebuffs easily, too. Still kind of annoying to be treated like that, but it didn’t form a horrible image of him. He was out for blood. Wasn’t Natalie, too, considering her Class? She’d be a hypocrite to be too annoyed.

“I’ll kill him,” Sammy said, still boring holes into his back. “He’s such a lecher. We’re supposed to be introducing everyone to the guild, not finding hook-ups.”

“Well…” Natalie said slowly. “Him trying was annoying. But if you did, I might not mind.”

Sammy turned to Natalie, eyes widening at the frankness. She looked at Natalie in a new light, then down at her clipboard. She tucked it behind her back and smiled. “Well. I suppose one tour wouldn’t be a bad thing, even if it’s not what I’m supposed to be doing. You wanna take a look around?”

Natalie grinned. Straightforward did tend to work out for her. “Sure. Sounds fun.” She had expected checking out the guilds to not be too interesting, but after this development, things were looking up.

“Okay,” Sammy said. “So. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about the guilds, and it’s my job to clear things up. What do you think of them?”

Sammy had guided Natalie out of the large entry hall, where freshmen candidates had been swarming the various tables ready to be greeted by guild officials. It seemed Natalie had skipped the line through an odd, if fortunate, series of events. And she was getting a personal tour, rather than the casual, canned discussions she’d been hearing back at the hall.

“What do I think of them?”

“Like, in general.” She shrugged. “Your perception.”

Natalie thought about it. Well, Harper had been pretty frank, so her appraisal was probably the right one. “They’re places to socialize and train with people who fill a similar role to you, practically speaking. But… they’re basically frats, besides that. Or sororities. Whatever the co-ed term is. Party houses,” she finally landed on.

Sammy gave her an amused look. “If this was an official tour, this is where I’d tell you no. That you’re wrong. And on the record… I did.” She winked, then took a stern voice. “The guilds are professional organizations, and we don’t throw parties, we throw ‘school pride’ events.”

“The getting hammered part is coincidental.”

“Officially, yes,” Sammy said, grinning. “But no, really. Even if we have lots of members join who only care about… our less professional side, that doesn’t mean we don’t have anything to offer.” They’d been walking through a wide hallway, and now Sammy veered them to the left, through a set of open double doors.

“For example!” she said cheerfully. “The library. Honestly, it might be the most comprehensive collection of books in the country, for our specific niche. Delving commentary, combat styles, Class and role duties, anything you could imagine when it comes to tanking. And plenty of general advice, encyclopedias, and so on, too.”

Natalie blinked around at the shelves piled with tomes of miscellaneous size and color. Like the rest of the guild, the room was in good order: clean, organized, and well-lit… though the iron-bar windows were a bit out-of-theme with the interior. Like Sammy said, it was a staggering collection. Many times larger than what could be found back at a town like Tinford, so Natalie was more impressed than the average Tenet newcomer.

“Though, if I’m being honest,” Sammy said, “the library doesn’t see much use. Probably more than the fighter’s guild does, but our sort tends to be a hands-on type. Still, the amount of insight in these pages could last lifetimes. I really ought to get in here more often…”

The words piqued Natalie’s interest, because, she realized, if there was a place she could find information on [Paladin] Classes—how exactly patrons worked, if they ‘worked’ at all—it would be here. Or if not here, then Tenet’s main library, or one of the other guild libraries. But the tank’s guild, a certain possibility. Not that it was high on her list of priorities, but having somewhere to start was nice.

“How do you find what you need?” Natalie asked, walking up and inspecting the nearest shelf. A Study of Armor Durability and Maintenance, one dark-blue spine read. The one next to that was, The Mechanics of Defensive Equipment: Form, Function, Design.

“We follow the same decimal system the rest of campus does. Though… sometimes things get misplaced. You might have to do some hunting if you’re looking for something specific.”

“Decimal system?”

Sammy tapped the bottom of a book spine, drawing Natalie’s eyes to a series of numbers scrawled on a white slip. “There’s a catalog at the front desk, if you want to hunt manually. But it’d be easier to ask Nelle or Fay. Those are our librarians.”

“Two? For this whole mess?”

“Tenet handles most of the inventory stuff. Nelle and Fay just deal with… our half of responsibilities.” She shrugged, as if she didn’t know exactly what that entailed.

“Do you have to be a member? To check anything out?”

“To even get in here, actually,” Sammy confirmed. “We’re open for freshmen, today, and the next few days, but after that, members only.”

She wasn’t surprised. Hoarding information had been a way of life for the guilds, back in the day. Less so in the modern age, but not entirely gone. Knowledge was power, as the saying went. Why share with the competition?

“Which actually segues to the main point,” Sammy said. “Membership, and what you get.”

Natalie nodded, prompting her to continue.

“There’s actually two tiers,” Sammy said. “Everyone on campus has to align with a guild, but most people, it’s a superficial relationship.”

“So, members in name only,” Natalie said. “Then, there’s full members. Like you. People who work for the guild?” She smirked. “The frat-slash-sorority members.”

Sammy, like before when Natalie’d called the guild that, seemed amused. “You really shouldn’t call us that. Especially if you join. We have an act to keep up.”

Natalie snorted.

“But yeah,” Sammy said. “Full members. Being aligned—‘half members’—means you get access to the training rooms, library, and other basic utilities, but being a full member is… well, a job, but with benefits. Depending on your position in the guild, you could get a room,” she gestured above them, toward the ceiling, where Natalie could guess the bedrooms were, “a token stipend, access to the treasury, and… well, a bunch of other stuff.”

“Treasury?”

“A communal one,” Sammy said. “I guess it’s not even the first day for you guys, so you haven’t gotten the Tenet tour. You’ll need to rent out a treasury room, assuming you don’t want to sell everything the moment you get it. If you’re a full member of the guild, you can store stuff in ours.” She hesitated. “Though, if you’re storing a bunch of junk, some of the upper years would probably get annoyed. Even if we have plenty of space.” She shrugged.

“Huh,” Natalie said. It sounded useful, even if she didn’t know she was sold on trying to become a full member. She already knew she’d probably align with the tank’s guild, but further? She didn’t know. “And what’s it take to get in?”

“There’s a few things. Minimum academic standards, your job responsibilities, whatever they are, and stuff like this.”

“This?”

“Event days. Showing the newbies around, or… whatever else is going on, where the guilds need a presence.”

“And how often’s that happen?”

“Not super, but not rare, either. Every few weeks? But you don’t need to go to every one. It doesn’t cut into your time too bad. Tenet wants us delving, first and foremost. But it’s not a free ride, either. It’s work.”

Natalie hummed in consideration. “Doesn’t sound awful, I guess.”

“It’s not.” She shrugged. “But I’m biased. I picked it, didn’t I?” She gave a sheepish smile. “And, there’s a few extra benefits. Being on the ground floor for… whatever’s going on, can be nice.”

“The parties,” Natalie said.

Sammy nodded. “Like I said, it’s poor form to say it out loud, but it’s half the reason most of us join up.” She gave Natalie a pointed look. “It can be hard to get alcohol onto campus, you know. Security looks lax, but it’s really not. So…” She raised her eyebrows, emphasizing the point, though Natalie just found it funny how she was tiptoeing.

“And you’re at the parties, often?” Natalie asked.

Sammy grinned. “Oh, here and there. Everyone needs a break once in a while.”

“When’s the next?” Then, even more forwardly, “The next you’ll be at, I mean.”

Sammy just gave her an amused look. “I see through you, freshman. You’re just trying to get out of the barracks for a night.” She quirked a teasing eyebrow. “But I suppose I’m feeling benevolent. There’s one tomorrow, and maybe I’ll give you a place to stay, if things turn out.”

Natalie grinned. She liked the sound of that. “Sounds like a plan.” She wasn’t excited just because her Class was encouraging this. Sammy was cute, friendly, and honestly, a good connection to have, considering her place in the guild. Natalie’d gotten lucky, being guided her way by that blond boy.

“Anyway,” Sammy said, coloring slightly at the bluntness of the exchange. “Let’s keep the tour going.”

“You said there’s training rooms?”

“Sure. Let’s go check them out.”

*****

Sammy’s tour lasted a half-hour more. She seemed frustrated about having to cut it off, but she ‘really did have something she was supposed to be doing’ and couldn’t entertain Natalie all night. Her assigned duty for today’s freshmen hadn’t been tours, as she’d said earlier—and one-on-one tours weren’t really a thing anyway—but had made an exception for Natalie, taking an interest.

Which was great news. Natalie suspected tomorrow night, during the first party of the year—sorry, ‘school pride event’—she’d be getting lucky. There’d definitely been chemistry between them. Though not especially of a romantic kind… but that wasn’t either of them were looking for, she thought. How lucky? She guessed she’d be finding out. But she all but had an open invitation to stay in Sammy’s room, so unless she fucked things up, her night ought to turn out well.

As for Natalie’s problem—the thing between her legs—well, she’d handle that as it came. Jordan had taken it in stride, but she was Jordan. Would other girls be fine with it? That was assuming she even got that far. But she thought she would. Sammy’s intentions—and Natalie’s—had been pretty clear.

After the tank’s guild tour, Natalie, as planned, checked out the other guild halls. Fortunately, or unfortunately, none were as interesting as her adventure with Sammy. It was, however, amusing—and intriguing—seeing each of the guild’s personalities. Individuals were individuals, of course, but each guild had a specific air about them: both on the large scale and the small scale.

The fighter’s guild was similar to the tank’s, but louder, more rambunctious… Sammy had mentioned that while the fighter’s guild’s parties were worth attending, you had to be aware that more property damage and injury happened there than the other four guilds combined. Safety definitely not guaranteed, when things got going. Which was a selling point to some, Natalie, honestly, included. It sounded like fun. Apparently, it was a recurring minigame to escape the campus enforcers when they showed up to quiet things down. Natalie loved that sort of chaos.

The mage’s guild, and the last of the buildings she visited—Natalie decided she would check out the healer’s guild if a skill developed for that branch, but not until then—had the most subdued atmosphere. Unsurprisingly, most mages were academics of varying sorts; the representatives hosting the freshmen welcoming events for the tank and fighter’s guilds had been loud and extroverted, but for the most part, the mage’s guild spoke in quiet, polite tones, moving about in a stiff, if expeditious manner. Her trip there was the shortest.

Depending on how Natalie’s Class developed, it was likely that she’d end up enrolled at the mage’s guild. Though, she’d learned through her talks with Sammy that there were more politics at play between the guilds than she’d thought. Tenet allowed students to enroll at two, but students looked down on it; there was tribe mentality at play, and especially between specific guilds. The tanks and fighters stuck together in much the same way the mages and healers did; the rogues, as always, stood apart, the third point to the trinary system.

But even among tanks and fighters, dual enrollment was met with disapproval. She could do it, sure, and in fact she might have to, because the mage’s guild would have information she’d want to sort through, but if she wanted smooth sailing in the tank’s guild she’d have to not. Maybe she could make a friend in the mage’s guild, and get access to their library that way? Natalie thought the whole situation was kind of stupid. Who cared if someone was in two guilds? But she also understood, kind of. There was comfort in banding together—in pack mentality.

The one guild she didn’t check out was the divergent guild. She didn’t realize it at first, but they didn’t have a hall on Union Plaza, not surprising as it would have been difficult to fit it in with the five pointed star motif. A few questioned coeds later she discovered it was located on the far side of campus. Already a long day she decided to visit another time.

The event having took up most of the evening. It was dark when Natalie set out back to the barracks. She settled down for bed early, before the lights had even gone out. She did have an early wake-up tomorrow, considering her decided-upon morning routine. Early showers, where she could be alone… and where she wouldn’t be caught taking care of her problem.

Settled down in bed, pajamas donned and alarm set, she stared up at the ceiling and considered her future. Not intentionally, but because how couldn’t she? Today had been packed, and had been the first full day away from home.

That was where her thoughts wandered first: home. She wondered how Mom and Dad were doing. For all Mom’s wailing at the train station, she had to be somewhat grateful for having the house empty. Though, she was definitely worried for Natalie’s safety. Tenet had outwardly seemed not far from a regular university campus—which was hilarious, because Natalie, going to university?—but the truth was, she’d be seeing the reality of the situation shortly.

This was a school designed to create hardened delvers… Natalie was pretty sure a normal university didn’t have a death rate roughly equal to its wash out rate. The good news was, she’d made a friend of sorts through Sammy. A contact, at least. She’d need to make more of those. She hadn’t bumped into any of the ‘politics’ that Tenet was infamous for, but she suspected that was because classes hadn’t actually started.

It would be nice if Natalie could get away from it all. As a nobody from a nowhere town, she might be able to, right? The politicking of the major Houses was pervasive, but it would be a load off her shoulders if she could simply sidestep aligning herself with any of them. Though that came with its own problems. Having allies—even if it meant having enemies—might be better than cutting herself off from it all. She sighed, knowing it was sure to be a headache.

Eventually, the lights shut off and the bustle of the barracks slowed. With so many people, and no strictly enforced sleeping hours, there remained a low buzz of noise… but Natalie’s tiredness eventually overtook her.