Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
I have made a terrible mistake telling you that.
Because Teachers are Heroes Too: No SV: You Are Headmaster of a Hero Academy
- Thread starter Magoose
- Start date
- Original Fantasy
- Location
- Philippines
I have made a terrible mistake telling you that.
Damn with this we must prevent Lucent from waifuing our second in command and our female students while Zelda is safe since she got Link.
On other what would happen to Hoster guild if we did recruit him would he disband it, leave to a management or become teachers for us.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
They'd be like mercenaries that we can call up to kick ass.
- Location
- Philippines
That's nice in case we need more manpower for the defense of the Academy. Hoster will be a great to teacher to his countrymen but a racist to foreigners will be a great obstacle for him teaching here.
Meanwhile I am starting to treat Lucent as a harem protagonist that would steal our best friend and female students from us. Hmmm but the shenanigans and fun of having him have one in the academy will be a nice distraction on other hand it might augment the disaster roll thanks to his harem messing around in our academy really hard choice.
Canon Omake: Student Days: The First Month by JAGwin
Student Days: The First Month
Two people, one a boy of seventeen years and the other a girl of twelve, stared up at the tall tower in front of them, a pair of rucksacks slung over their shoulders.
"So . . . this is it," the boy said, his voice one of forced calmness. He was dressed in dark blue robes with a hood pulled over his head, partially obscuring his black hair. He was also, rather obviously, taller than the girl, though not by as much as the difference in their ages would lead one to expect, as he was slightly short for his age. Nevertheless, his gaze was firm, and the grey eyes behind his round glasses showed no hesitation or fear. On the contrary, he seemed almost eager, as though he wanted nothing more than to march into the tower right then and there, but was holding himself back for a moment.
"Yeah . . . yeah, it is," the girl agreed. In contrast to the boy, her voice was nervous and slightly unsure, as though she were having second thoughts about what they were about to do. Also in contrast to the boy, her robes were lighter, though still blue, and her blue eyes, filled with the innocence of youth, were uncovered, as was her equally dark hair.
"You can still go back," the boy noted.
"I'm coming with you," the girl responded, determination briefly drowning out her nerves.
"You're sure?" the boy asked, concern in his voice. "Once we leave, there's no turning back."
"I said I'm coming!" the girl shouted. "I made up my mind weeks ago. You know that."
"You didn't sound like you'd made up your mind," the boy noted, then sighed. "Vio, you don't have to come if you-"
"I want to!" the girl interrupted. "Isaac, please, just . . . stop worrying so much. I'll be fine."
Isaac looked at his sister for a moment, eyebrow raised. Viola looked back at him, defiant. Eventually, Isaac sighed.
"All right, all right, I'll stop nagging you," he said in resignation, then held out his hand to her. "Let's get going, then."
Viola smiled and closed her hand around his, and with that they were off.
"I just hope no one is standing where the stone sends us," Isaac commented.
"That can happen?" Viola asked, suddenly nervous again.
"I wouldn't be surprised."
Viola shuddered, opened her mouth to say something, decided against it, and instead merely tightened her grip on her brother's hand.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
When they arrived at Elkhort's Mage Tower, the siblings found themselves standing in a circular room with a handful of other people around them. All of them were older than Viola, a few looked like they might be a year or two older than Isaac, and there was one woman near the door in her early twenties.
Said woman was looking right at them, concern written on her face. Then she sighed, seeming relieved, before turning back to a girl who looked to be slightly older than Isaac, a raven resting on her arm.
Isaac tugged on Viola's hand. "Come on, we better move before someone else gets here."
They took a few steps to away from where they had arrived, before stopping as Viola spoke. "Who is she?" she asked, looking in the direction of the woman.
"Probably one of the teachers. I'd imagine she's here to make sure no one gets hurt . . . or worse . . . before they even make it to the school." The girl with the raven seemed to finish her conversation with the woman, walking out a nearby door and chattering happily at her pet. "Come on, we need to find out which direction the school is in."
As they walked up to the woman, Isaac couldn't help but take in her appearance. Long golden blonde hair, blue eyes filled with kindess, and pointed ears. Dressed in blue and brown with golden highlights. She was also quite beautiful in Isaac opinion . . . not that it mattered, since even if he had been interested, she was almost certainly a teacher and he was most certainly a student. The problem was obvious.
"Hello there, students," she said as they reached her. "I'm Professor Zelda Greyback, Sunrise Academy's medic."
Isaac had heard of her, though he had never expected to meet her. Still, he knew her reputation. Zelda Greyback, exiled White Mage, healer, and accidental summoner and intentional vanquisher of demons. The headmistress had made a wise choice in hiring her.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
After finishing their conversation with Professor Greyback and being told how to get to the school from the mage tower and where to find the infirmary, the siblings had set out.
After about two miles of walking, however, the comfortable silence they had been enjoying was broken.
"Hey there!" the siblings heard someone call from behind them. Isaac did his best to glance backwards, but it was difficult with his hood up. Still, he was able to see a tall boy who might have been a year younger than him jogging to catch up with them. He was wearing black armor -- not particularly good armor as far as he could tell, but not bad either -- and a visorless helmet of the same color on his head, with a few locks of fair hair poking out from under it. Strapped to his back were a shield and spear, while at his waist was a sheathed sword. Overall, aside from the rucksack thrown over his shoulder, he looked the part of a soldier, perhaps even a knight. "You're here to attend the academy too, right?" He didn't even wait for them answer his question. "I'm Philip, from Mergardia, who are you?"
The siblings looked at each other for a moment before answering.
"Isaac Marcallas," Isaac said, before gesturing to his sister with his free hand. "This is my sister, Viola."
"Oh, you're brother and sister? I didn't realize." Philip said cheerfully, then peered at Isaac's face under his hood. "Though, when I look closely . . ." He shook his head, then asked, "Where are you from?"
Isaac paused, hoping that not answering would make the other boy lose interest. When he saw him opening his mouth to speak again, he realized that that plan wasn't going to work and answered, "Springbury."
"Where's that?"
". . . Pisatia." Isaac wasn't really in the mood to talk to this boy, not when they hadn't even reached the school yet, but unfortunately, it seemed that he had no choice but to participate, as Philip had taken up position beside him and seemed unlikely to leave in the near future.
And so they continued, Philip attempting to make conversation with the siblings, Isaac doing his best to provide satisfactory responses to what Philip was saying in as few words as possible, if a response was needed at all, and Viola occasionally chiming in as well.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
The sun was setting by the time they reached the school, and Isaac had to admit, when he first saw Castle Greymont, it was . . . less impressive than he had been expecting, and from the look on Philip's face he had been expecting more as well, although his brand of surprise seemed like it was less forcefully polite. Nevertheless, there was no turning back now, so Isaac continued forward, tugging his sister along on his left, Philip following shortly after on his right
Ahead, he could see a man in his early thirties just exiting the castle, his dark hair shaved almost bald on one side and styled so that it almost obscured part of his hard, bearded face on the other. He was also wearing armor that appeared to be partially made from scales, and there was a sword at his waist and a shield on his arm.
"More students," he commented when he saw them, nodding. "I'm Professor John Roche. I expect you'll be looking for the dorms now that you're here."
John Roche. That name sounded vaguely familiar to Isaac, but he couldn't quite place it. Beside him, Philip startled, his armor clanking, before staring at the man with an unreadable expression on his face.
"We will, although it would certainly go much more quickly if you could tell us where they are, " Isaac said.
"Well, I've got good news and bad news for you," Roche noted. "The good news is, some of the dormrooms here are still liveable. The bad news is, nowhere near enough of them are, so it's going to be eight people to a room."
Viola froze, more clanking anounced that Philip had startled again, and Isaac frowned.
"You're joking," the bespectacled boy said flatly. "You must be joking."
Roche smirked at them. "Nope. Hope you didn't pack much, because there's not gonna be much room for you if you did."
After he'd finished speaking, he turned and began to walk away, pausing only long enough to give them directions to their rooms.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
The siblings stopped as they reached the fork in the corridors where they would have to split up before heading to their respective dorms, Philip pausing as well a few steps later.
"Is something wrong?" the armored boy asked, turning around to look at them.
Viola looked up at her brother nervously, and Isaac, knowing exactly what the problem was, said to Philip, "Oh, nothing serious. Go on ahead, I'll catch up in a few minutes."
". . . Well, all right, if you're sure . . ." He still looked concerned, glancing at Viola's face, but seemed to have decided that Isaac was better suited to handle whatever was wrong than he was, and so turned around and continued on towards his and Isaac's room.
When he was out of sight, Isaac turned to face his sister, bending down to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What is it, Vio?"
Viola looked him in the eye, took a deep breath, and asked, "Do we have to . . .?" She did not need to finish the sentence.
Isaac sighed. "Yes, Vio, we do," he began. "Firstly, I'm not the only one who's going to be in the boys's dorm, and secondly, we can't be together forever. Sooner or later, our paths will take us to very different places, and we both need to be ready for when that happens."
Viola didn't look like she liked that idea.
"I'm not going to be that far away, and we can still see each other any other time," he told her. "We'll hang out and study magic together like we always do, just not as much."
Viola gave him a pleading look.
Isaac stood firm, then sighed. "It's time to go, Vio." And with that, he pushed her, gently, towards the corridor that would take her to her room.
Sadness colored the younger Marcallas's face, but she seemed to realize that there would be no winning this argument, and so took a few steps forward, before pausing. "See you later," she said.
"At dinner," Isaac noted. "We still haven't had that yet today."
Viola smiled slightly, then continued down the corridor.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Come in!" a voice came from inside Isaac's room after he knocked on the door. Opening it, he saw three boys inside, including Philip -- who was attempting to prop his spear against the wall -- along with two sets of bunk beds and four sleeping bags on the floor.
"The armory is out of order," one of the other boys said in response to Isaac's quizzical glance at the Mergardian. He was tall, taller than Philip, and visibly stronger. Older, too. Isaac guessed him to be at least eighteen. His black eyes gazed out from a head that was as bald as an egg, and there was a suit of armor visible under one of the lower bunks that Isaac had a sneaking suspicion belonged to the larger boy. As it was, he was dressed rather casually in a tunic and trousers, leaning back against the far wall, arms folded. "Name's Vincent," he said.
"Isaac Marcallas," Isaac replied.
"Philip here mentioned you," the other boy said from his position on one of the lower beds. "Said you had a sister?" The look on his otherwise handsome face set off a number of alarms in Isaac's head.
"She's too young for you," the bespectacled boy said warningly.
"Dammit!"
This boy looked to be the same age as Isaac, his watery blue eyes contrasting well with his auburn hair, upon which sat a feathered green cap. He also wore a green coat and some leather armor that looked as though it had seen plenty of use. Beneath the bed he sat on, Isaac could see a bow and quiver of arrows.
Conversation flowed from there. Apparently, the other boys they would be sharing the room with had not arrived yet, and Vincent and the other boy, Chester, had already claimed the lower bunks, with Philip taking the one of the sleeping bags.
From there, the conversation had turned towards where they were from. Apparently, Vincent was another Schwarzen, although he was from somewhere in Schland called Sirton. He also didn't talk much, keeping his answers short and to the point.
Chester, on the other hand . . .
"I am from the most honourable, most noble city of Falvale, in Mdinia, where-"
"Mdinia!?" Isaac repeated in surprise, looking up (or rather down, since he had claimed the bed above Vincent's) from his rucksack. "You're a Rusanic?"
"Indeed!" Chester said proudly. "The most noble, most pious people in all of . . ." He trailed off as he noticed the look of contempt on Isaac's face. "You're a Romain, aren't you?" he asked, sounding resigned.
"From Pisatia," Isaac confirmed.
Philip looked between them with a clear lack of comprehension on his face. "So? What's the problem?"
"'What's the problem'?" Chester repeated as though it was the stupidest question he had ever heard. "The Romains abandoned the gods and seek to cast mortals in their place!" He paused to glare at Isaac, then continued, "I don't know what the headmistress is thinking to be letting such blasphemous scum as you into her noble institution, but-"
"Presumably the same as what she was thinking when she decided to hire a Romain to keep her staff and students, including you, alive in the event of something unfortunate happening," Isaac cut him off.
Chester floundered, mouthing something that Isaac thought was 'I actually flirted with . . .?' before the mage decided to add more.
"I'll not deny that we would carve our fates with our own hands rather let the gods dictate our lives, or that some Romains have been arrogant enough to believe themselves above the gods," he admitted. "But we are better than you Rusanics," he all but spat the word, "who would sit and wait for your goddess to absolve you of your sins and fix your troubles, and kill any who would dare attempt to better the world themselves!"
They glared at each other, the age old rivalry between their cultures all but physically manifesting as sparks between them. Then, after a moment, Isaac took a deep, steadying breath, and sighed. "Look," he began, "I don't like you or what you stand for. You feel the same about me. Nothing either of us says will change that. But we are not here to argue about the place of gods in the lives of mortals." He took another breath. "We are here to learn. And if that means I must tolerate your presence, so be it. I already came here expecting to be taught by Rusanics. Living with one can't be that much worse.
"Are you willing to do likewise, Rusanic?"
Chester continued to glare at him for a moment, before sighing as well. "I suppose I am," he said. "Barely."
Isaac nodded, and silence decended on them until the door opened to admit another roommate whom Isaac found to be far less memorable.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
On the first day of classes, Isaac considered himself much more fortunate than the day he had arrived.
On the one hand, he had not been assigned to the same class as his sister, and he still had a Rusanic roommate.
On the other hand, his first class was being taught by the deciding factor in why he had opted to attend a school run by Rusanics in the first place, and he would not be attending that class with the aforementioned roommate, who had been assigned to Class 3, along with Philip.
Although he did wish that Class 2 would be a bit quieter in its pre-lesson chatter.
"Did you hear?" asked a blonde haired girl to the one with the raven. "They say this place is cursed."
"Cursed?" a small boy repeated, sounding scared. "They set up a school in a cursed castle?"
"Not just the castle," the blonde girl corrected. "The entire city."
"Rubbish," said another, larger boy, waving his hand dismissively. "The castle's haunted, sure, but not cursed, nevermind the city."
The small boy didn't look like he found that statement all that comforting, but before he could say anything in response, the door banged open, and all conversation died instantly.
A young man stepped in, dressed in almost regal attire, one eye as red as blood, the other covered by an eyepatch. His hair was dark, but not as dark as the shadows that warped and twisted at his feet with every footfall as he strode towards the opposite end of the classroom.
Most of the students were silenced by, if not fear, then certainly caution, wary of this new and highly dangerous man.
Isaac was not one of those students. He was not afraid or even wary of the Dark Mage in the room. On the contrary, he felt eager as the exiled prince opened his mouth, and began to speak.
"I am Prince Nero Schwarze, and I have been hired to teach you the ways of magic . . ."
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Not many days after the lessons began, Classes 2 and 3 were being assigned field work.
Some were surprised, having expected at least a few more lessons before they were supposed to actually put their skills to the test. Isaac was not, as this the only way he could see for the Academy to even hope to sustain itself.
That said, they were apparently starting small, most likely to make sure the students didn't bite off more than they could chew when they were still so inexperienced.
Class 2 had been assigned to kill some slimes that had left their dens, an easy task. Some of them were having trouble even then.
Isaac had just frozen another slime when he heard the shout of "SEPARATE THOSE FEET!!!" He jumped slightly, then quickly glanced around at the rest of the fight, and saw the small boy who had expressed fright at the idea of a curse on the city being knocked off his feet as a slime colided with his shield, falling to the ground with the gelatinous creature on top of him.
Isaac conjured a fireball, preparing to throw it at the monster that was currently attempting to harm his classmate, only for another student to knock the slime in question off of the less skilled one with the blunt end of a spear. Then she twirled it around in her hands before stabbing into the slime's core, killing it. Then she offered her hand to the boy and helped him back to his feet.
Isaac glanced at his fireball, shrugged, and tossed it over his shoulder at another slime that had been preparing to attack him while he was distracted. He could only hope Viola didn't have so much trouble with her first field mission.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
"What are you smirking about?" Isaac asked at dinner that evening, Viola happily eating some potatos next to him.
Sure enough, Philip was grinning broadly from the other side of the table. "Killed a boar."
Before Isaac could even ask why he was so proud of that, he heard a shout of "May I have you're attention, please!"
Turning to face the head of the dining room, the students saw the headmistress, Amber of the Seasons, standing there along with the deputy headmistress, Cicilia the Vine Princess, Professor Talion Tall Talker, who looked like he had a hangover, and . . . a ghost?
Almost immediately, murmurs broke out among the students, some wondering why there was a ghost next to the headmistress, some exclaiming things like 'I knew it!' and 'I told you so!', and some expressing their concern/fear about the fact the castle really was haunted.
Then the headmistress opened her mouth, and began an explanation that Isaac took a moment to mentally summarize.
Essentially, the ghost, Joshua Greymont, along with his undead family and servants, considered the castle to be their one and only home, and would willingly defend it from any and all threats to the best of their ability, and they were also willing to extend that protection to its inhabitants on the condition that they repaired it and gave it due respect.
"Well . . . that's a thing," someone commented from somewhere to Isaac's right. Isaac found himself nodding in agreement.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Two days later, Class 2 had more field work to do. This time, they were supposed to deal with some wolves that had taken up residence in the woods with Professor Roche. Slightly more challenging, but Isaac was confident they would be able to deal with it.
That said, he had not expected the professor to bring a teabag and kettle.
Isaac stared, as did several other members of the class.
"Well, come on then," Roche said as though nothing was out of the ordinary. "Those wolves aren't gonna leave on their own . . . probably, anyway." And with that, he turned around and walked off into the trees.
Whispers started among the students as they followed, many wondering why their teacher thought he would be able to brew tea while hunting for wolves.
They recieved their answer when they found a few of the wolves . . . and Roche simply strolled right up to them, saying something in a language that Isaac couldn't understand and holding up the kettle.
The wolves glanced at each other, growled back and forth, then turned around and began to walk away. Roche followed, gesturing for the students to do likewise.
"What's going on?" someone asked in confusion even as the class began to move.
"They're taking us to their leader," a female voice said confidently from right next to Isaac. He looked in that direction, and saw the girl with the raven standing there. Said raven was perched on her outstretched arm, looking quite at ease.
"How do you know that?" Isaac asked.
"He was speaking in the Animal Tongue," she said, as though that explained everything. Isaac gave her a look of uncomprehension, and she elaborated, "It's the language we Angshire use to communicate with animals."
"I thought that was a myth," Isaac admitted.
"Oh, it's no myth," the girl said, looking ever so slightly offended. "But if you still have doubts, then just wait and see for yourself."
And with that, they continued walking for around another fifteen minutes, before reaching a small clearing. The wolves stopped, and howled long and loud.
"They're calling for the rest of the pack," the girl said, and Isaac could hear similiar things being said by a handful of the other students in the crowd.
A few minutes later, more wolves started emerging from the woods, one of which, larger than the others, stepped forward and growled something at Roche while a few more brought some wood and placed it between them.
Roche responded with more unintelligible words, placed his teabag and kettle on the ground, sat down, and began to start a campfire.
And for the next hour or so, the rest of the humans watched as Roche made his tea and talked to what was presumably the alpha. After which, the wolves left, and Roche turned around to face them.
"Sometimes, you can talk your way out of a problem, instead of fighting. For animals, it's always nice to have fluency in beast tongue, but having some magic will also help if their rabid or scared. For a person… Well, speaking their language helps, and sometimes a show of power works as well," he told them. "Now, let's get going, we've not got much daylight left, and I'd rather we not stay out after dark." And with that, the class began the trek back to the castle.
"Told you," the girl said smugly, though not to Isaac. Instead, she was looking at the tall boy who had doubted the claims that the city and school were cursed.
"I didn't say anything!" he protested.
"Who are you, anyway?" Isaac asked her as though the other boy hadn't spoken.
The girl smiled at him. "Sylvia Alden."
Now that Isaac actually stopped to take in her appearance properly, he could see that Sylvia had green eyes, and her hair was as dark as the feathers of her bird. She was also wearing a few pieces of light armor over a simple shirt and pants. And she was also slightly taller than he was.
"And this is Terry," she continued, gesturing to her raven with her free hand. "Say 'hello', Terry."
"Hello, Terry."
Isaac jumped, staring at the bird in disbelief, as did a few other students who were nearby. Sylvia laughed.
"No, Terry," she said. "Say 'hello' to, uh . . . What is your name, anyway?"
"Isaac Marcallas."
"Marcallas?" Sylvia repeated, sounding surprised. "You wouldn't happen to have a sister named Viola, would you?"
"You know her?" Isaac asked, surprised.
"Yeah, we met on the first day. She's a nice girl, even if she is a bit shy . . . and quiet."
And so they continued on, Isaac asking Sylvia to look after his sister in the girls's dorm, Sylvia promising to do the best she could.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Another two days later, Class 2 had been given its first multi-day assignment, and they were not the only ones.
Apparently, Class 3 would be away from the school for a while, protecting some passing cattle with Professor Gin. Classes 1 and 2, on the other hand, would be patroling the city's streets for the next two weeks, Class 1 taking the day shift with Professor Jasper, Class 2 the night shift with Professor Vine.
Part of Isaac envied Class 3, since they were working with a Talian rather than a Rusanic. The more rational rest of him, however, was merely resigned. While he doubted he would ever like Jasper or Vine on account of them being Rusanics, they were still his teachers, and he was there to learn, so he would do his best not to let his personal feelings cloud his judgement regarding their tutelage.
That said, he could not help but fear that the late nights spent patroling would make it more difficult to make it to his classes on time. He was already having trouble remembering when all of them were . . .
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Eight nights into the Class's assignment, Isaac, Vincent, Sylvia and Terry the Raven were patroling near the lake. So far, nothing particularly bad had happened. At least, not that particular night.
The previous nights, it had been the same story over and over again, various students encountering drunks getting into fights, speaking in tongues that a few recognized as being from further north, and/or attempting to kill each other. By now, the rumors about the city being cursed had reignited, and Isaac was starting to believe them and wish he had not brought Viola with him to this place.
Even so, they had a job to do, and do it they would.
It was around eleven o'clock at night, near the end of their shift, when they heard it.
A commotion. More drunks attacking each other.
The three humans rushed off, Sylvia raising a spear, Vincent hefting a massive shield, while Terry flew off to fetch Professor Vine.
One was on the ground when they got there, two more standing over him, one holding a broken bottle, the other pulling out a knife. Another two were brawling with their fists nearby, screaming words no one could understand.
Isaac blasted the one with the knife with electricity as Sylvia rushed the one with the bottle, reaching him in just a few powerful bounds and whacking him a few times with the blunt end of her spear. Both men collapsed, and they turned towards the other two.
Vincent had interposed himself between the two brawlers, one of whom was clutching his fist, a look of agony on his face, Vincent's shield between him and his opponent. The other was futilely attempting to liberate his hand from Vincent's iron grip, spitting as he hissed unintelligibly.
Isaac sighed. Just another night on the job in Elkhort, it seemed.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
It was not long after their last night of patrols that Class 2 received one last field assignment for the month: Bodyguarding the Magistrate. This time, they would be working with the headmistress herself.
On the one hand, she was a Rusanic. On the other hand, she was a famed hero and Nature Mage. On the third, mutant hand, it was unlikely Isaac would interact with her in person, so it mattered little.
Still, as they stood watch over the party a few days later, Isaac couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He just wished he knew what.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
A/N: Phew, finally done, and with nearly 5K words to boot. Now to work on the next one and delve into Class 3.
Personally, I think Chester should have said a bit more to prompt such a long reaction from Isaac, but I couldn't think of anything else for him to say about Romains (at least, not anything that flowed well). If anyone has any ideas, I am open to suggestions.
I'm also open to suggestions regarding the title, since I drew a complete blank and went with something that I personally feel isn't accurate enough.
Last edited:
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Great, consider this canon, and threadmarked. What is your +10 bonus?
I'll need to know what we can do next turn before I assign that anywhere, but I'm almost positive it'll go towards breaking the curse.
Magoose
SV's Questing Fanatic
- Location
- California USA
- Pronouns
- He
Hey, guys I'm rebooting the quest I hope you will enjoy it.