“…C'mon, don't give me the cold shoulder, y'all!”

  Sol pumped his fist in the air. ‘Moirai’, that was the codename of the special task force composed of Arthur, Irene, Jacob and Sol. The two Irminsul natives only looked mildly disappointed at the seemingly stupid name, while the transmigrator lowered his gaze and stroked his chin.

  As if to confirm his doubts, a text window appeared in front of his eyes. The dim, blue light was reflected in his irises, but no one seemed to notice it. Back in Malkuth, Moirai was the term for specific mythological figures.

  If he remembered correctly, they were something along the lines of ‘weavers of fate’. Three sisters, stemming from Greek mythology, which wove thread representing a person's past, present and future.

  The Archive displayed information about the term Moirai in Irminsul. The origins were similar, myths originating from the eastern part of Winguric, about an entity tasked with the duty to write out the fate of each and every individual on Irminsul.

  He wondered whether the name had any deeper meaning, especially considering it was most likely chosen by Sol. He raised his gaze, and with it a hand.

  “About the, er, job…” Sol interrupted him.

  “Ah, y'see, I can't tell ya too much right now. Jus' so ya know, it's because ya ain't received any tasks yet, so I don't have anythin' ta tell ya. ‘N fer yer knowledge, I'm plannin' on usin' the first three weeks of yer employment ta train y'all.”

  Arthur tapped his fingers on the chair's armrest, waiting for Sol to finish speaking. Then, he once again spoke out, a mildly annoyed expression adorning his face.

  “I actually wanted to ask about the pay.”

  Sol tilted his head slightly, surprised by the elf's honesty about his motives. He knew that he wasn't as foolish and ignorant as he made himself look, but still, he didn't expect him to ask about money.

  A quiet chuckle came from beside Arthur. Irene covered her mouth with her hand, keeping her eyes glued to the pavement to hide her laughter and embarrassment.

  “Right, well, let me think…”

  He crossed his arms, leaned back and shifted his gaze towards the ceiling. A few moments passed in silence, with Sol murmuring to himself under his breath and running some mental calculations.

  “It should be ‘round 3 Spears per week. Ya'll get additional pay too, if ya do good with yer tasks and whatnot. Should be close ta a normal policeman's monthly pay… Not too shabby, yeah.”

  Arthur glanced sideways, summoning the Archive. If he remembered correctly, a singular Spear was equivalent to a decently large sum of money. And they were about to receive three Spears, each week, each month.

  Unsurprisingly, both Irene and Jacob were stunned by the revelation about the pay. Jacob's eyes had widened, and he was busy counting how much money that was, using his fingers and hands.

  Irene produced a small pouch from her garments, opening and closing it quickly multiple times, checking the coins inside.

  “Oi, this ain't a joke, is it? We really gonna rake in that much?”

  The Tribefolk shot a piercing glare towards Sol, his eyes narrowed, partially covered by the cap. He knew that working under him would be better than being a prisoner, but this sounded too good to be true.

  Sol shook his head with a smile on his face.

  “Of course it's true, I wouldn't lie to ya.”

  Jacob clicked his tongue and looked away with crossed arms. Arthur looked in his direction for a moment, before letting out a sigh and looking away. He still had a few questions to ask Sol. He leaned towards him, locking eyes with the man.

  “You said something about training us, yes? Care to expand on that?”

  Sol clasped his hands together.

  “Nothin’ much ta say there. Ah, but jus' so ya know, the training's only gon' last two weeks. I'm giving y'all the first week ta get used ta this place.”

  He gesticulated with his hands, pointing at the room around them and at the doors. Arthur internally nodded. From what little he had seen of that part of the facility, it was enormous, and more than that, it was complex to navigate.

  To reach that room they had to take a number of twists and turns. If he tried to go back to the prison alone, without Sol's guidance, he would get lost nearly immediately. It was almost like a labyrinth.

  Other than that, having yet another week off didn't sound bad at all. Arthur smirked, he enjoyed not having anything to do.

  “‘N from the second week, I'll be teachin' y'all more ‘bout magic, ‘n how ta use it… Effectively. Look forward to it, yeah? I promise I'll make it fun!”

  Arthur felt like that ‘effectively’ was aimed at him, in particular. Though it didn't bother him too much, considering he was planning on learning magic through Sol either way. That was one of the main reasons he accepted the offer, after all.

  He sighed, lowering his shoulders.

  “What else, what else…”

  Sol rubbed his chin for a few moments while thinking, as if looking over a mental checklist of the benefits the job would include. Though, when he thought about it, now was too late to refuse anyways.

  He could just make their future tasks look better, by showing them the silver lining in anticipation. He suddenly nodded his head.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “Right. Right! Y'all still count as academy cadets, yeah? Any privilege that they have, anythin' they can do, ya can do, too. If ya wanna earn an extra Blade by workin' at the facilities, or attend some lectures, or even spend some time at workshops, yer free ta do so. Jus' keep the usual workin' hours in mind, yeah?”

  “Oooh.” Arthur unconsciously spoke out, interested in the man's words. They would probably spend the first day, or first week, getting used to the layout of that part of the prison. However, having something to do in their spare time could be good.

  He started stroking his chin with a slight smile on his face. Even just by going back and forth to the facilities or the library, he would eventually memorize the corridors and hallways. He was looking forward to grab some more books, now that he thought about it.

  However, he had a question.

  “By the way, what are workshops?”

  Irene’s eyes shimmered with her usual attitude. After a glance and a nod from Sol, she started pumping her fists in front of her chest. She leaned towards Arthur with a huge smile on her face, and started going off.

  “I can tell ya!! So, basically, er, workshops are like… Like clubs! But for cadets! Like, er, Sigel has a cooking club, I think, on… Er, I think 23 Leches Street… You know what clubs are, right…?”

  Irene stopped her explanation for a moment to look at the elf. He nodded, holding back a slight chuckle. She let out a sigh of relief.

  “Well, it's pretty much just clubs, but for us cadets! Ah, but, well, you can't make a workshop for just anything, of course… Um, for example, a cooking workshop would get rejected… But if you try and submit it to the staff as, let me think… Ah, I know! As a workshop dedicated to, er, something like making nutrient-packed rations for battlegrounds, or a workshop for the study of certain foods, and how to prepare them in harsh environments… Um, do you get what I'm trying to say?”

  She was having a hard time keeping track of her own speech as usual, but she was doing better than usual. She must have liked the topic of workshops, considering she didn't even need to stop to organize her words.

  Though, Arthur somewhat understood what those workshops were. In short, they were something like clubs you would find at a high or middle school. Places where cadets could come together and bond over a common topic.

  However, considering that was a military academy and not a normal school, every workshop had to be practically useful, rather than a gathering of people with similar hobbies. Her cooking workshop example, as badly worded as it was, actually made sense.

  A normal cooking club would get flat out rejected, as it was nothing more than a basic necessity, or hobby to some. However, the workshop could be accepted, if it could be applied practically in times of war, or on battlegrounds.

  He didn't know who exactly reviewed and accepted workshop ideas, but he didn't really care about that. He wasn't going to trouble himself and make a new workshop.

  “I see. Are there any interesting ones?”

  He smiled at Irene and lowered his hands, interlocking his fingers.

  “Ah, yeah, yeah! There's lots of cool workshops! Like, er, you know the Moonstone Refinement Facility…”

  Sol slightly tilted his head with a smile on his face. Arthur glanced at him. It seemed like a genuine smile, one a father would show, prideful of his children. The girl turned around too, noticing it, and a blush quickly painted her face red.

  “Ya know, she tried damn near every workshop we got in here! She got a hard time stickin' ta one thing, but she sure as hell knows how ta try new stuff.”

  Irene lowered her eyes and let out a forced, embarrassed laughter. She probably felt awkward, showing her interest on a silly topic like that. Arthur frowned for a moment, before shaking his head. He placed a hand on Irene's shoulder and smiled at her.

  “So? What about the Facility?”

  “Oh, er… You see, it's, um, it's actually a workshop, too. The founder of the workshop, Miss Gunnhildr, allowed the building to be shared with workers, so long as she could get some of the refined Gemstones at a cheaper price… Ah, but, she pulls her weight! She actually paid for most of the decoration in there, installed the gemstone lamps herself, and even developed the moving table!”

  She tried to hide her eagerness, but the glimmering in her eyes quickly returned. Arthur smiled softly, he managed to do just what he intended. He didn't enjoy it when she kept continuously talking, but seeing her sulking was even worse. She was just a child, after all, and it was his duty as an adult to entertain her.

  ‘Adult, huh…’

  He looked down at his body. Even if mentally he was an adult, his body was far from being fully developed. To any outsiders, he probably looked like a child or teenager, just like the other two in the room.

  The only ones that had a different opinion of him were probably Sol and Ayn. The latter knew about his transmigration, and the former realized he was smarter and more cunning than a boy his age should be.

  ‘No use thinking about it now…’ He mentally chuckled.

  “She must be a good person, then. What's its, er, theme? A Moonstone study workshop? Gemstone Technology?”

  Irene shook her head.

  “Yeah, something like that. Um, I've only gone there as a worker, actually, not as… Well, as a workshop goer… But I think Miss Gunnhildr is a fan of engineering! Ya know, I actually heard the emperor went to meet her, that's how brilliant she is!”

  Arthur was shook, but he kept his expression calm. Even in another world, engineering just couldn't leave him alone.

  Surely, his interest was piqued. He would go check out the workshop as soon as he found the time, both out of interest in it, and to meet Gunnhildr. She sounded like a good person, but also equally intelligent.

  ‘Maybe she's an alternate world version of me!’

  He shook his head and laughed under his breath at the dumb joke. Though, considering all the magic he had seen by now, he wouldn't be too surprised if that actually were the case.

  “I ain't too keen on shite like that, but… If you're up for a scrap, there's a couple of brawling workshops too, innit.”

  Jacob butted in, leaning back on his back. His arms were crossed, and he was clearly averting his gaze from either of them. Maybe it was a taunt, as if challenging them to a fight, or maybe he just enjoyed that sort of thing.

  If this was a genuine invite to an activity that he thought they would all have fun partaking in, and not an elaborate way of saying ‘I’ll beat both of your bloody arses, aye?’, Arthur was ready to apologize to him a thousandfold.

  Though for some reason, he felt that wasn't the case.

  “I'll check it out, thanks.”

  He stopped for a moment.

  “The engineering workshop. I'm much too frail for, er, any scrap, at the moment.”

  He offered a slightly less genuine smile to Jacob than he did to Irene, prompting him to click his tongue in scorn. Sol laughed, watching them talk with and tease each other, before slapping his thighs and standing up.

  “‘Alright then! It's ‘bout time I go back ta the surface. Got some… Stuff to do.”

  Arthur could see his expression hardening for a moment, and a sudden wave of understanding washed over him. That was the expression of an overworked man, having to sign and compile mountains and mountains of documents by the end of the day. An exasperated, empathetic smile appeared on his face.

  “Y'all are free for the rest of today. If ya wanna go upstairs, ask a guard, or try yer luck. I recommend the latter! But, either way, see ya kids tomorrow. Sleep tight tonight, yeah? Wouldn't want ya ta be sleepy on yer first day on the job!”

  Arthur and Irene let out a forced chuckle at his joke. Soon after, Sol left the room, leaving the three in an awkward silence. The elf glanced to his side, the Archive manifesting beneath his gaze.

  ‘Right. Upstairs.’

  In fact, that part of the prison was underneath the actual academy and prison. It was a more secure and private holding complex, reserved for guards and soldiers who preferred to live in the facility, and special cadets like the three of them.

  Though, that was also to keep them tighter under Sol's grasp. He could infer that much. While he was thinking about the facility's architecture, he felt a nudge on his shoulder.

  “Um, Arthur, do ya wanna go take a walk, or something? We should, er, we should explore the facility, right?”

  He smiled at her.

  “Sure, I don't mind.”

  Neither of them bothered to ask Jacob whether he wanted to come along.