"Good morning, Clara. How do you do today?"

Clara took a bit to create the correct response to Sorean's Hightongue question. "I. am. good."

Sorean chuckled. "Excellent," he replied in Common. "Your exaggerated pronunciation will fade over time, so there is no need to focus on it."

"I figured so." Clara looked at the piece of paper that she noticed Sorean was holding. Most of the past week and a half or so had been spent writing in notebooks, so this was a sign of something new.

"You will be doing something a bit different today," Sorean confirmed. "As you wished, you will be given an opportunity to learn some self-defence. Over the next few weeks, with some refreshers later if you require them, you will practice using a small ether firearm."

Clara was excited. Aside from the skydive training, most of what she'd done in Alcamoth so far was mental - it would be a nice change of pace to learn something physical.

Sorean continued. "Of course, there are certain prerequisites. I have taken care of most of them for you, but there is one thing you must provide - your signature." He held out the paper, revealing it to be a liability form.

Clara took the form and scanned the Common half. It looked fairly typical - while her instructor would do his utmost to ensure her safety, it was still up to her to not do anything stupid. She eagerly signed it and handed it back.

"Splendid." Sorean stashed the form somewhere in his robe. "You shall have your first lesson this afternoon. But for now, there is something else to be attended to: today is the first day of your cultural education."

There was no immediate response; Clara expected him to continue before forming an opinion.

After a pause, he did go on. "As you may expect, there is much for you to learn before you can truly count yourself amongst the upper class. Your lessons will begin today and continue daily, spanning from ten in the morning to two in the afternoon. For your convenience, the lessons will occur here in the villa. There will be no assignments, but you will be tested occasionally to ensure your knowledge is being retained."

Clara nodded continually; none of this was much of a surprise.

"The material you learn will span a great many subjects. History and culture are first and foremost, but also of importance are politics, philosophy, science, and the arts."

Something occurred to Clara. "So...You live a long time and are pretty advanced. How much history do you have?"

Sorean chuckled. "Far more than any one person can learn in our lifetime, even excluding the unwritten record. Therefore, there is no reason to pretend you can do any more than scratch the surface. Your historical education will focus on major and recent events - those that define what Alcamoth is today."

"...Sounds good." She wasn't sure of what else to say, really. On one hand, it sounded exciting to learn history way beyond ancient, but on the other hand, it could turn out to be a few bright spots amongst a large swath of boring.

"I will leave you to prepare yourself for today's lesson," Sorean continued. "It will proceed in Common and cover the broad history of before Alcamoth was formed. I shall see you again with your instructor at ten."

"Okay then. Later."

Clara sat idle as Sorean showed himself out. There wasn't any real "preparation" for her to do, so she turned to a bookshelf and grabbed another gardening book. She still couldn't do much other than look at the pictures, but her list of ideas for the garden outside was so large it was now broken into six or seven thematic sets. It would be hard to pick between them, or to decide how long to keep one before converting it into another.

Time passed pretty slowly now that there was anticipation. But eventually, the clock moved, and Sorean returned with a tall middle-aged man alongside him.

"This will be your history teacher, Mr. Oluth Nehunal."

"Hello." Clara shook hands. "It's nice to meet you."

Mr. Nehunal smiled and pushed his long hair out of his face. "Ah, but the pleasure is mine, madam. It is a rare opportunity to teach someone old enough to appreciate the subject."

"Oh, uh, thanks." Makes sense, kids are usually bored by history.

The trio went to the cloudlike second floor to sit down around a table.

"This will not be as formal as a school classroom," the instructor began, taking some papers and a holoscreen out of his briefcase. "We will move at your pace, and you need not take notes unless you wish to. After a lunch break, we'll quiz the morning's lesson, and after any necessary refreshers we will continue. Ready to begin?"

Clara nodded. She hoped for a fanciful history full of conflict between ancient kingdoms, akin to the backstory of a fantasy novel. She was not disappointed.

Long before recorded Homs history, the High Entia were divided into many countries across the Bionis' upper body, with lesser forgotten ones below. As time passed, the ancient kingdoms traded and warred amongst themselves until relative stability was established across three main alliances, headed by a trio of most powerful nations: the Imperial Commonwealth of Antiqua oversaw Bright Shoulder Plateau, the Ganu'ud Dominion controlled Shaded Shoulder Plateau, and the Kingdom of Il sat between the two.

The peace was uneasy. The leaders of the three great powers knew each other well - they saw it certain that one of them would eventually make a play for conquering another, and thus have a two-to-one advantage in land and men for eventually overrunning the third. But it was a presumed given that the third would come to the second's defense, defeating and dividing the ousted aggressor to leave two equal superpowers. Unless it was a fast and decisive victory - which seemed unlikely given the alliances' relative equality in strength - whoever made the first move would lose.

After several hundred years of trepidation, the first stone fell. Spurred by years of drought across Shaded Shoulder Plateau, a smaller member of the Ganu'ud Dominion attacked its neighbour in Il for access to Eryth Sea outside the skyrocking tariffs being levvied. Within days, a cascade of invoked alliance treaties saw the entire northern border engulfed in war, and the weeks afterward drew in the remaining members of both parties.

With the first month of combat suggesting the war would not come to an end quickly, both the Ganu'ud and Il families reluctantly lobbied the Antiquas for aid. The Antiquas dragged their feet, claiming they needed some time to decide whether they wanted the ICA to choose sides and intervene in what they called "a local matter". The two belligerents, both upset at the lack of help but relieved that the third party did not join their opponent, continued to fight each other. Despite occasional further requests for help, the ICA's position remained unchanged.

The "Water War" lasted six years - four more than the drought that started it - and featured much exchange of territory in both directions. In the end, Il marched into the capital of Ganu'ud to proclaim victory, having destroyed half its constituents and forced another third to surrender. But it was a costly win, losing a great majority of their forces along the way, and many of the populace did not see it as much of a victory.

It was then that the ICA's plan was revealed. Storming into Il's undefended sourthern side a mere week after the Water War's conclusion, its well-prepared armies captured most of the weary nation without much resistance. From there it was a simple matter to continue northward and conquer the depleted victors, before easily grabbing control of the defeated Ganu'ud. They had gambled on their two opponents tiring each other out, and it paid off.

The ICA presented its actions as unifying the High Entia under one banner by eliminating its warlike foes. The Ganu'ud family was executed in secret, while the Il family vanished and was never seen again. Over the following century the ICA constructed Alcamoth to be its new capital city, its name derived from "unified dwelling", and renamed itself the Empire of Alcamoth to further appeal to the masses.

Under the just rule of the Antiqua family, Alcamoth quickly became prime real estate; scores of High Entia flowed into the city, abandoning their rural territories outside Eryth Sea. Before too long, most High Entia lived within the city, leaving the kingdoms outside the sea to fade into the past. Today, very few farmers and miners live in the wilderness, and even then most of them live in the city and only work outside it.

While most of the present populace know this general picture, they care little for the details aside from that Alcamoth was formed by three warring factions, as the imperial banner of three stars on a flame suggests. To many, the history of Alcamoth itself is far more important than whatever came before it.

Clara didn't have many questions during the lesson, preferring to simply listen and enjoy. But once the material had concluded, and there was some time left, she thought of one.

"So High Entia used to live across the Bionis, but now they only live in this one city. How do you all fit in here then?"

Mr. Nehunal nodded. "A natural question. Simply put, our culture changed. Before the unification, we High Entia were colonizers and conquerors, each country wishing to spread themselves as far and wide as possible. And to that end, there was much wastefulness, spreading people thinly across claimed lands and encouraging families to grow as large as possible. But once we began to consolidate ourselves, we quickly learned better ways. Living in denser quarters with others reduced the imputus to expand one's own family. And the great tolls of the war reduced the population considerably from the beginning. Today, rather than attempting to take over the world, we live in harmony with it."

Clara nodded and searched to see if she could dig up another question, but couldn't.

The instructor looked at the clock. "Well, it appears were are done for today. Tomorrow, we will cover the founding of Alcamoth and its first years in more detail."

"Sounds good."

Mr. Nehunal was seen off.

Sorean turned to Clara. "What do you think so far?"

"Oh, um..." She took a bit to figure out something to say. "It's...it's real interesting. Like, we Homs know there was a time long ago when stuff like kingdoms and empires existed, but we don't have anything real known-for-sure about it. So it's kind of...uh, odd? To suddenly learn about stuff from probably way back even before then."

"I can only guess at how much of an eye-opening worldview it can be." Sorean took a step away. "I shall leave you for now. Your ether firearm training will begin in about an hour, please be ready to depart before then."

"Alright then. Uh, thanks for...for setting it up."

"I require no thanks. It is my duty to procure what you desire."

Sorean left without further word.

Clara still didn't quite know what to make of Sorean. She only really interacted with him outside his royal duties, so her perception of him was more like a high-access butler than the empress's brother - he did a lot of nice things for her, but he didn't seem to make much attempt to befriend her outside his scope. Given that they were supposed to be marrying at some point, this was a bit worrisome.

But I guess that doesn't really matter yet. There's still a lot of time.

The firing range was daunting. Two dozen High Entia-shaped dummies were laid out at various distances through the long hallway past a waist-high barrier, looking sufficiently lifelike that Clara's first instinct upon entering the room was that it was heavily occupied.

The instructor - a large man in green robes - was waiting for them, bowing to Sorean and extending his hand for Clara. "Greetings, madam. I am sub-commander Arlon of the 3rd regiment."

Clara snuck a glance at Sorean for a hint of how to react, but didn't get one. "Uh, hello, Arlon. How are you?"

"I am quite well. It is always enjoyable to teach my craft."

Sorean nodded and patted Clara on the shoulder. "I shall leave you in Arlon's capable hands. There is no need for an audience to distract your learning."

Clara nodded as he left. She then looked a bit more carefully at the nearby equipment: on a table to the left were two closed boxes, one small enough to be a lunchbox, the other large enough to hold a typewriter. There was also a notebook and a first-aid kit.

"Now, first things first," Arlon began. "There is no shortage of danger in handling ether firearms. While I am sure you are mature enough to not do anything foolish, I still ask that you take great care. Ether firearms are not nearly as volatile as the powder-fed weapons of yore, but this does not change the most important rule: do not point a gun at anything you do not want to be shot. Is that clear?"

"Yup, absolutely clear." She wasn't surprised at the bluntness; guns were indeed no joke, and she'd heard more than a few stories in Colony 9 about incompetent trainees shooting themselves in the foot.

"So before we begin: Do you currently know any battle arts, of any kind?"

"Just one, Light Heal." Clara responded.

"Ah yes, Light Heal." Arlon quickly found an entry in his notebook. "Weapon-agnostic ether support art. Focuses ambient atmospheric moisture into a mist that surrounds the user or a target ally. Provides short burst of minor healing, ideal for treating small cuts or bruises but not much more. Simple for anyone to learn and utilize." He closed the notebook. "Would you agree that this art has little value in a life-or-death situation?"

"Well, I mean...it's not going to save anyone from being stabbed, but it might give just enough for help to arrive in time. Of course it might be hard to do it to myself if I'm the one stabbed."

"Exactly. It is for light first aid, not for saving lives in a fight. Therefore, we will proceed in your training as if you do not possess it."

"Makes sense."

Arlon bent down to open the smaller of the two boxes, revealing an ether revolver. It was clearly designed for royal use only; the grip was made of ivory, the frame and barrel looked like silver, the cylinder and trigger were gold, and everything was covered in a complex series of engravings.

"This revolver is a Kol Teros." He took the weapon out of the box and held it up flat, allowing it to shine. "It holds six shots at a time and fires single-action, which should be more than enough for any dire but survivable situation you may find yourself in. Each ether bullet requires sixty seconds to be regenerated, meaning its average rate of fire is one shot every ten seconds."

Wide-eyed with anticipation, Clara carefully picked up the gun. It fit in her hand like it had been designed for it, and felt so light it might be hard to remember whether she was carrying it.

"Now, for your training, we have a case of regenerating ammo here, with enough capacity that you will never have to waste time waiting for the bullets in your chamber to regenerate." Arlon demonstrated how to reload using his own weapon, taking the pre-prepared bullets out of the larger case. "But it is unreasonable for you to carry any extra ammo source in your daily life. You will have no more than six shots a minute."

"I understand." Clara aimed one eye down the barrel. She felt kind of giddy and tried to supress it - being trigger-happy wouldn't do her any good.

Arlon stepped back. "Now, how about you take some practice shots to get your eye in."

Clara didn't need any more invitation. She held out the gun at maximum arm's length, hoping to minimize the noise, and aimed at one of the closer dummies.

"Don't lock your elbow," Arlon called out. "You want to catch the recoil, not push against it."

"Oh okay." She pulled her arm back in a bit. Hearing no further comments, she pulled the trigger.

There was a bang about equal in volume to breaking glass with a hammer as a white streak of light fired out of the barrel and impacted the catcher board to the target dummy's left. The gun pushed back almost into Clara's shoulder before she could regain control of it.

"Good," said Arlon. "Practice makes perfect, of course. That being said, you undoubtedly have more important things to do than perfect your marksmanship, and the vast majority of attempts made on the imperial family are done at close range where accuracy is less critical."

Instead of responding, Clara fired again, hitting the target dummy in the right shoulder. Taking time between shots, she kept firing - scoring two more misses, one hit in the left shoulder, and one hit in the ribs.

With no further comment from the instructor, she reloaded and kept shooting. Her accuracy quickly improved, with only three more complete misses amongst the next eighteen shots.

Arlon stepped in. "Very good. Now let's teach you some arts."

"Just a minute. There's something I've always wanted to try."

"Of course."

Clara steadied herself and lowered her weapon, sizing up one of the closer targets.

A tumbleweed rolled across her imagination's eye.

She quickly took aim and fanned the hammer, unloading five shots into the dummy's torso and the last one into its neck.

Arlon made a face somewhere between a frown and a smirk. "I don't suppose you need me to tell you that such technique is dangerous."

"Oh absolutely. Just had to do it once."

"To be honest, I don't blame you. Now let's move on." He dipped back into his notebook for a moment before continuing.

"The first art is called Tranquilizer, and is fairly self-explanatory: it fires a shot that puts its victim to sleep while inflicting mininal if any damage. The effect can last for up to thirty seconds, which should be sufficient time to make an escape. However, it has its drawbacks: it only targets one foe at a time, and it is surprisingly ineffective on those who expect it. In addition, it is all too easy for the effect to be washed away prematurely by an ally's action or a second enemy's aid. Altogether, while it only truly works once on single targets, it is extremely effective at enabling your escape."

Arlon drew his own weapon, a more standard-looking revolver coloured the same blue and silver as the rapiers most guards carried, and fired at one of the dummies. Instead of a big bang, it let out a more reasonable pulse of air and fired a streak of dim azure light that didn't appear to do anything on impact.

"Using the art is simple," he continued. "It is nothing but a matter of envisioning what you wish to exit the barrel. This is the case for all ether firearm arts: as long as you have a firm knowledge and experience of an art's effects, it will operate as you expect. As a result, your first attempts are likely to be weak and unfocused, which may either result in a normal firing or a minimal effect."

Clara nodded and took aim. She imagined seeing the bluish light coming out of the gun and fired.

The gun shot a blank, with a cloud of blue smoke exiting the barrel instead of a bullet.

That's fine, just like he said, weak first attempt. She fired again for the same result. On the third try, a faint ray of light travelled out from the barrel about ten metres amidst a much smaller smoke cloud, but the fourth shot was another blank.

Clara kept reloading and firing for several minutes. Slowly but surely, the art took shape, with the shot becomg more consistent and travelling further.

After a bit, Arlon stopped her. "That should be good for now. I find it is better to practice single arts in short bursts than one long session. Next, let's try the second art."

He handed Clara some earmuffs and goggles. She quickly put the goggles on, which made the room dark enough that she couldn't see much at all.

"This second art is called Flashbang. When used, it releases a blast of light and sound that causes no injury but dazes anything within eyesight or earshot for up to ten seconds. This makes it much more effective against multiple foes than Tranquilizer, but its downsides are harsh. Firstly, it is just as likely to affect the user if they are not prepared, and while it's not as disorienting from behind the barrel, it is still critically important to actively brace yourself against the blast. But more importantly, it expends every round you have loaded at once, and only has full power if it draws in all six shots. Firing even a single shot before using it weakens its duration considerably, and regardless of its strength will leave you empty for a full minute. It is best used first, yet can only be used last."

Clara nodded and put the earmuffs on. They were eerily quiet.

After putting on his own safety equipment, Arlon pointed his gun and fired. A blinding burst of yellow light appeared in front of the barrel, accompanied by a crack so sharp it felt like there was no ear protection at all. He then stepped back and motioned for Clara to try.

...whoa. A bit scared at hurting herself but also full of anticipation, Clara slowly aimed forward, envisioned the yellow explosion, and fired.

All six bullets exited the barrel at once and spiralled off in various directions as if a confetti popper had been set off. The force of the blast launched the gun out of Clara's hand and clattered it against the back wall. Her reaction was to stand motionless with her hands in the air, trying to figure out what had just happened; with the goggles and earmuffs on, she had no idea where the gun went.

Arlon had seen it; he picked up the revolver and caught her attention, demonstrating the correct two-handed grip before handing it back to her.

The next few minutes were somewhat chaotic. Even with two hands on the weapon, Clara found it quite hard to keep her grip against the force of the six simultaneous bullets, which didn't seem to want to co-operate and form the dazing flash she was envisioning. Only after the eighth try did she succeed in getting the shots to fuse into one, which drastically reduced the recoil but didn't quite reach the light and sound of the true art.

After a great deal of further unsuccessful attempts, Arlon called it, waving Clara off into them both removing their earmuffs. "You make a valiant effort, but our time here today is coming to a close."

"Awww, alright." Clara held up the revolver and looked across the barrel. It wasn't smoking, which while completely sensible (only the powder guns used by the bad guys in Arids did) was still somewhat disappointing due to lack of cool factor.

Arlon began packing up the ammo case. "I look forward to your next practice session, next week at this same time."

"Sounds good." Clara fiddled with the exact placing of her gun on her belt. Like most weapons, the ether catalyst inside allowed it to simply attach to her clothing without need for a holster, so she had some freedom to choose the ideal position from which to draw it. She considered adding more layers to her wardrobe in order to conceal it better.

Sorean appeared right on schedule, ready to escort her back to the villa. "I sense you are pleased with yourself, Clara."

"Oh for sure." She patted the gun like a pet. "I feel real...uh, real good about things right now. Like...I have less to be afraid of."

"Excellent. Exactly as we hoped."

Clara nodded and started following Sorean back. Sure, she did indeed feel a lot safer now she owned a weapon, but to be honest she was almost more pleased that she'd gotten to live out the gunslinger fantasy for even just a short time.

Of course, if her experience watching Arids had taught her anything, it was that even the tiniest unexpected advantage could make a difference. While the dark goggles were on, she'd palmed one of the spare bullets, which was currently etherally attached to the hidden side of the revolver. It wouldn't regenerate without a receptacle, so she would only have one seventh shot unless she took another from somewhere. But it felt even more empowering to have a secret card up her sleeve.