Chapter 4: Campfire Orientation

As they walk back towards the building, Somn nudges Luke. “Look up. It’s a beautiful night.”

Curious, Luke follows her request. His mouth drops open at the sight. “... Woah…”

The nighttime sky overhead the group is the clandestine magnum opus of a mad painter: inky-black velvet lit up with broad strokes and delicate swirls of glittering silver that whisper seductively of new discoveries and wonders just beyond their reach, the twinkling lights shining out to them like beacons against the cold darkness surrounding them. Crisp, cool air brush past their faces as they entered the building, a sharp contrast with the stuffy humidity of indoors. Somn takes one last longing look at the sky before hurrying in after them.

“Please tell me we have windows,” says Luke hopefully, already missing the heavenly constellations.

“Well,” says Somn, “it depends on what room you want--”

"Oh, I think it's about time," says Fred, glancing at his watch.

"About time for what?" asks Krill. “Aren’t we supposed to go to bed?” he adds, jabbing a thumb at where Professor Azzageddi once stood. “That’s what he said.”

"Oh yeah, I forgot-- the seniors haven’t had time to orientate you guys yet." says Fred. “We’ve got our own celebration.”

“Celebration?” splutters Krill. “Can’t we just hit the hay?”

“Don’t whine, Krill. I’ve been waiting for this for ages,” says Neko, hurrying past him to walk beside Fred.

Fred hides a satisfied smirk at the sound of Krill sighing in exasperation. Score one for the tinkerer, he thinks. Aloud, he says, “Alright, follow me.”

Breaking away from the pack, Fred proceeds to steer the group down through a maze of hallways and classrooms, twisting and turning as he weaves through the rabble of students all heading in the same direction. Rooms and doors disappear into a blur as the deities begin picking up speed to keep up with the goggles-wearing boy. The corridor narrows as they advance, forcing people to press down on the five of them from all sides. Beside Fred, Neko takes lead, shoving people aside to advance, followed closely by Krill who takes advantage of the temporarily clear space. Behind him is Somn guiding Luke, who is much more reluctant to squeeze through people and can be heard muttering apologies as he passes through.

Soon, they burst out of a pair of glass doors, the masses letting up as they scatter out into the open space. Somn can feel the refreshing night breeze caressing her skin, telling her that she’s out in the open again, away from the confined spaces of the building. The goddess relaxes visibly, a motion that doesn’t go unnoticed by Luke.

“Prefer it out here?” he asks with a smile.

“Don’t you?” she laughs. “You can’t deny it-- being outdoors right now is nice.”

In front of them is a cultivated forest, the branches and leaves rustling in the wind that slips past the trees and wraps around the deities, bringing with it the sound of laughter and the wonderful smell of food, painfully reminding Luke that he hadn’t had a bite since his birth. Almost as if in agreement, his stomach rumbles noisily, much to Somn’s mirth and Luke’s embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have dinner in a bit,” promises Somn. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

Godly students around them filter off into different paths, some heading down by themselves or in pairs, but most in large, jovial groups. Fred picks a small trail that separates two rows of trees and marches into the woods. As they walk on, the sound of merriment and excited chatter fills the air, the smell of food drifting past their noses intensifying. Luke clamps his mouth shut, hoping that he wasn't drooling at the mouth-watering scents.

“How much more?” asks Krill, the displeasure in his tone obviously apparent.

“Not much," assures Fred. "Just another turn… here we are!”

The trail opens up to reveal a large clearing, with a enormous pile of chipped wooden logs in the center, surrounded by merry-making student-godlings who were lighting the place with lanterns, giving the place an ethereal glow. If it weren’t for the hubbub of the young deities, the clearing would be a wonderful campsite, with the babbling stream flowing past the clearing lending its sounds to create a pleasant background atmosphere.

An eagle-headed god spots the five newbies and saunters up to them, covering the ground between him and the group in a few confident strides. "Welcome to the unofficial orientation campfire,” he greets. "For the newcomers, it's an annual campfire organised by your seniors. One day, you guys’ll be organising one too, but today, just enjoy," he says with a smile. “Grub’s over there, by the way,” he adds, gesturing to the direction of several tables heavily laden with an steaming assortment of food and drink.

Not needing to be told twice, Luke makes a beeline for the tables, leaving Krill to head towards the tables himself at a slower pace while wondering exactly how the senior god speaks a human tongue through a beak. Occupied with his own thoughts, he misses how Luke grabs a small burger and wolfs it whole, much to the wide-eyed stares of his friends.

Luke smiles sheepishly at the rest of the group’s reaction. “Sorry. Was hungry,” he explains.

“Hungry? Starving's more like it,” says Neko, grabbing a plate and dishing herself food.

A helpful senior doles out dinner for the group, then directs them to the makeshift stage nearby. “We’re having a play tonight,” she says excitedly. “It’s going to start soon!”

“A play?” asks Somn curiously. “What’s it about?”

“I’m not supposed to give spoilers!” giggles the older goddess. She then bends lower and softens her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I will tell you, however, that it’s kinda a--”

"Welcome to the annual unofficial Campfire Orientation!" shouts one of student organisers, the god marching into the middle of the clearing as his magically-enhanced voice halts everyone in their tracks. “We’re about to start in a few minutes, so please wrap up whatever you’re doing and-- DON’T YOU DARE SUMMON A THUNDERCLOUD HERE, THORBJOERN, OR SO HELP ME I WILL FRY YOUR TINY LITTLE BEHIND SO HARD--”

“We should probably get moving,” interjects Luke, precariously balancing a plate piled high with food. “I’d like to eat my dinner while I still can.”

“Way ahead of you,” says Fred, plopping down onto one of the heavy wooden logs provided as seats. He then pulls out an invention of his, the Drinkery, and pours everyone a tiny cup of carbonated ambrosia. "Flavors, everyone?" he asks.

At his friend’s requests, he pours a small amount of syrup from the Drinkery into their cups. When he reaches Luke and Krill, he couldn’t help but to introduce them to his baby. "Using a bit of alchemical science, I created this to give us drinks. It sucks in surrounding air when activated and goes through my own patented scientific process --which I can’t tell you for competitive reasons-- to transmute the air into ambrosia. The small device at the top then carbonates it as it is poured. The flavors come from the same science, but are instead transmuted into whatever flavor syrup you want due to a complex alchemical formula that integrates each letter of your flavor as a number, then recognizes its flavor due to an online uplink and then..."

Luke listens in awe throughout the entire lecture until Fred looks up from staring lovingly at his invention.

Noticing Krill's blank expression, Somn’s sympathetic smile and Neko’s hearty guffaw, Fred slinks back, embarrassed. "Just... give me your flavor requests."

Luke nudges Fred. "Can you explain that to me later?” he asks. “That thing is awesome!"

After an affirmative nod from Fred, Luke and Krill both give their flavors. The boys raise their cups to their lips, only to set it back down hastily when the student organiser's voice booms in their direction.

“Sorry about that, folks,” announces the student organiser. “Now that’s out of the way, let’s begin tonight’s events with the lighting the campfire!” he shouts. The students erupt into an agreeable hurrah, casting confetti, streamers and candy into the air as the one of the oldest students throws a packet onto the pile of firewood with great gusto. The object explodes with a loud bang and a shower of sparks before being rapidly consumed by a raging inferno. Another trainee goddess steps forward obligingly and shapes the flames into a swirling vortex of multi-colour flames that gives birth to a simply enormous dragon constructed out of fire, the fiery creature roaring and snapping at nearby students as it claws its way out to freedom. Its creator makes it jump out of its fiery nest and prowl around the clearing, shaking off wisps of smoke as it snorts ember into the faces of nearby students.

Entranced by the dragon, nobody notices the trainee goddess shaking with fatigue as she maintains the dragon, struggling to stay on her feet as she forces herself to finish the opening act. Her strength fails and she collapses, hitting the ground with a soft thud. Released from the mind that held it in place, the dragon falls apart and extinguishes into nothingness along with the campfire it was created from, plunging the entire place into darkness. Silence blankets itself heavily upon the hushed crowd, catching everyone’s words in their throats as they stay frozen in their positions, stunned.

The eagle-headed god is the first to jump into action, sprinting across the clearing to pick up the limp body. Hot on his heels seconds later is a golden Labrador puppy, the size and colour too big and vibrant to be mistaken for a mindless creature.

“Ra?” asks the puppy anxiously. “Is she okay?”

Ra shifts the unconscious trainee’s body into a more comfortable position for examination. “Ran out of stamina,” he concludes. “These idiots should’ve known their limits before overusing their niche powers. Kari, do you know where’s her room?”

“Follow me,” says Kari. Short little legs move in a blur as she leads Ra out of the forest. The two figures practically vanish from sight within seconds, well before the student deities begin to recover.

Neko gets back her voice first. "Wh... What happened?" she asks in shock.

Before Somn could open her mouth to reply, the student organiser marches up to take centre-stage.

"No need to panic, newbies," he says, his words once again enchanted to reverberate throughout the clearing. "She's just exhausted, that's all. All she needs is a bit of bedrest. No, we are not trying to pacify you here, we're dead serious. If she was spellcasting, then that would be an excellent reason to panic." The senior god claps his hands together, calling for attention. "We shall begin the play. Places, people! This party ain't gonna run itself. Someone get that fire started again!" he shouts, shooing everyone back to work.

As if nothing had happened, the older party-goers break back out into conversation, carrying on whatever discussion they were having before and leaving the younger newbies reeling.

Neko decides to repeat herself. “What happened?” she asks aloud.

The student organiser somehow manages to hear her. “Newbies, right?” he asks. “Professor Azz might’ve mentioned earlier at your orientation-- niche powers use stamina. My guess is that she didn’t have a good night’s sleep yesterday. Seriously, don’t worry,” he adds with a wink. “It’s all good. Right, let’s se-- THORBJOERN I TOLD YOU ALREADY--”

The five of them watch the student organiser stomp off after what they presume to be the targeted senior, who immediately starts a shouting match with the organiser, much to the amusement of other seniors who rowdily egg on the two with cheers of their own.

Watching the seniors, Somn becomes a little worried. “Umm… we’re not going to end up like that, right?” she asks.

Krill can only shrug. “Who knows?” he says, digging into his dinner. He doesn’t get very far with his meal, though, as a single person’s footsteps click softly around him, the sound strangely unnatural and attention-grabbing. Everyone falls into silence as a lone god steps onto the stage, the campfire light casting eerie shadows across the senior’s features.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, leaning forward as if to share a juicy secret with his audience. “Allow me to present to you an age-old fairytale..."

Chapter 3: First Day of School

With Somn leading them, the group heads towards the cluster of temples and buildings that makes up the city of Godville. The new boys stare in amazement at the awe-inspiring monuments to the more-established deities, trying not to let their jaw drop as each structure they pass by raises their expectations, only to have it all come down with a crash when they finally see the actual campus itself.

It isn't a particularly shiny, large, or clean cluster of buildings, especially compared to its neighbors, but it is the building that, according to the signboard, plays host to the Godville Academy for the Training of Young Deities. As they approach the building, a slightly larger group of young gods comes into view. They are a rather strange group, consisting of plants, animals, human-like beings and even a flaming energy-man-bird thing.

"Okay guys, go this way,” says Somn, gesturing with both arms towards the main doors of the school. When she spots the group, she gives them a friendly wave, which a few respond back with a wave of their own. “That’s our batch,” she explains. “They’re nice people. Hopefully, you’ll get along with them too.”

Krill does a quick comparison to the Academy and the next building. “That’s the Academy? It’s not very… impressive.”

“Considering how many repairs we have to make?” snorts Neko. “We’re lucky the thing is still standing.”

Almost as if to prove her point, a section of the structure shudders, then disintegrates violently, spewing debris across the grounds. Seconds later, a flailing figure can be seen sailing out of said exit hole.

Luke and Krill look at the young gods, then at each other in bewilderment, then follow Somn to the doors. "So, Somn," Luke says. "Where exactly are the elder gods?"

Somn winces a little. "They... are at the very top of the school. The very... very... top."

Luke tilts his head up. While not the largest by far, it is still a pretty impressively tall building by any standards. "Isn't that just a bit inconvenient for new gods?" Krill asks tentatively, unsure if this query will bring down the wrath of the elder gods upon him.

Fred looks at him, still glaring a little. "It used to be a test of sorts. If the new gods are weak--or stupid--enough to not make it, then they are undeserving of their godhood. Personally, I think was cruel and unnecessary, but the tradition still sticks around."

“I think that was an urban legend, Fred,” says Neko. “Those seniors didn’t look too--”

“Wait a minute!” exclaims Somn suddenly.

She abruptly stops in mid-step, causing an instantaneous pile-up from the ones behind her with the exception of Neko, who had somehow managed to avoid getting caught up in the pile.

“What is it this time?” she huffs.

“Well…” Somn turns to Neko and Fred with a confused expression. “Don't you two have to get ready for tonight?"

Looking altogether much too eager, Fred immediately walks off with Neko, deliberately steering her away from Krill while calling over his shoulder: "Yes! Yes we do!"

Somn stares after the two, wondering what triggered Fred’s attitude--she had never seen the god ever acting anything short of friendly before today. She decides to brush it off with a shrug, then walks forward, pushing open the door to the school and beckoning for Krill and Luke to follow. The two enter the hallway after her, looking around expectantly.

No thanks to the amount of damage and chaos an over-enthusiastic young god can accidentally create, the place is decidedly spartan-looking. Everything here is centered around a simple set of criteria-- sturdiness and easy repair. All is made from solid, renewable construction materials, be it furniture and doors, or walls, ceilings and floors. On closer inspection, even the glass has a fine wire mesh running through it to strengthen it. Krill pauses for a moment to contemplate the necessity for physical reinforcement, as from what he deciphered from Somn’s rapid-fire commentary, one could just magically strengthen the glass--

“... and then one of the seniors told me that apparently someone managed to drain the entire Academy’s mana!” says Somn. “Right down to the bricks and mortar! Of course, it might just an urban legend, but the Academy does stay off the main mana grid if they can, so maybe there’s a grain of truth in that. Oh, and over there is…”

Well, thinks Krill. Now I know. Thank you, Somn.

Luke nudges Krill in the arm. “Is it just me,” he whispers, “or is there more rooms than then the actual building?”

Krill nods in agreement. To him, the whole Academy so far seems to consist of nothing but hallways and classrooms, all now crammed full of people. He scans the place and is content to see that the halls are dark enough that he could hide in a corner somewhere. Luke, on the other hand, is more interested in the people around him, the crowd ambling past the three of them with their own agendas in mind.

Somn leads them to a pair of doors, which she opens to reveal a swirling white ball of energy sitting in a darkened room. She walks in, then realises that Luke isn’t following her. "Something the matter?" she asks in concern. She notices Luke’s hesitation and draws her own conclusions. “If you’re scared, don’t worry-- actually, it is rather ominous-looking, isn’t it?”

"I'm... not..." Luke starts, before noticing that Krill is staring oddly at the portal. Krill sticks his hand in tentatively, then his eyes widens in a sort of subconscious recognition, for the place-in-between feels soothingly familiar to him. He then steps inside and the portal begins to swirl faster. Krill relaxes, obviously at ease in the portal.

Not wanting to seem afraid of something that Krill can handle, Luke walks towards the orb and hops in after his friend. Somn then slips behind them and closes the door after Luke. The moment the doors shut completely, the ball begins to spin faster and faster, until it resembles a small sun.

*

At the top floor, they emerge from a closet, fumbling through several winter coats, into an even dimmer lit room then the one they came from. The only light in the room comes from a single lamppost that looks extremely out of place, the object shining a cold, yellow light onto a smooth, dark-coloured desk that circles around the entire room. Sitting around this desk are several elder gods, including a dragon-human with a dangerous-looking runic blade. Yet no god can compare to the god seated directly across the circle from the wardrobe. This god emits an aura of undeniable leadership despite his fragile appearance. It is to this god that Somn walks.

Somn swallows a nervous gulp, trying to recall the correct names and proceedures. "Vetruvius, sir, these two young gods have made it from the Origin and need their followers," she says, gesturing to Luke and Krill.

Vetruvius, despite his imposing presence, appears as a sleeping elderly man with a waist-length white beard and a plain, bone-white wooden staff. When Somn speaks to him, he raises his head from where it previously lay on his desk and speaks. "SO, THEY NEED THEIR FOLLOWERS?" he shouts.

A young secretary goddess promptly strides up to him and taps him on the shoulder before whispering something in his ear. Vetruvius blushes and continues in a more modest voice. "Ah, thank you, Adrua. I beg your pardon, young gods-- it is heroes that you need?” That can be arranged." He stands up, his joints creaking, and walks over to a model of what seems to be, at first glance, Godville. His secretary, Adrua, follows him over and beckons for Luke and Krill to follow as well, leaving Somn behind.

The model, on Krill's closer inspection, reveals that this device is mirroring a Godville that is not as grand as the city outside the Academy's walls. Buildings he recognises from his quick tour of Godville seem to have their equivalent on this strange model, but their structures lack the grandeur and architectural feats that could be seen in their actual setting. The beings that travel through this city are, as a rule-of-thumb, uninteresting to look at, with an occasional oddity here and there. Krill wonders if this strange device is possibly a conceptual model of Godville without magic, then puzzles over why there needs to be such a thing.

"Now, young ones," says Vetruvius, stroking his beard. "In order to pick a hero or heroine, simply reach down and touch them."

Krill looks at him in complete and utter disbelief and begins to speak. "But that's impos--"

He is quickly cut off by Adrua, the secretary with a shush. "Don't ask HOW it works," she says. "Just do it." She swivels a magnifying glass over the model, allowing Krill to see individual mortals on the surface. For a brief moment, Krill tries to rationalize this idea, then realises that no matter what he does, the whole thing wouldn’t make sense anyway and decides to just go with it. Both him and Luke reach through the glass and tap on one of the tiny figures, hoping that they chose correctly. Upon making their choice, they both feel the strange sense of doom that has been unconsciously hanging over them since the pit leave.

"Now," says Adrua, "you must understand that your followers are both your life force and your power. If a god or goddess has absolutely no followers whatsoever on the mortal plane--represented by this model here--they will die. The more followers they have, the more powerful they become. Your hero, which you have just chosen, will travel the mortal realm and recruit others to worship you. Make sure to tend to your followers carefully. Remember to show them miracles and signs, so that they do not lose faith and that you can have a steady supply of mana. You also have the power to revive your fallen Chosen One--in other words, your hero--and because of his or her special status, you need not use any power for his or her revival--they supply you with the necessary magic themselves.

"Now, have any of you developed any abilities yet?" asks Adrua. At Krill and Luke's blank stares, she explains, "Eventually, you will develop abilities unique to your individual selves as gods. This will be made clearer in orientation. Your power will potentially determine everything--from your job to where you live, so you better hope it's a good one." With that, she shows them to the exit, where the boys quickly rejoin a nervous Somn.

As they turn to return to the ground floor, Somn breathes a huge sigh of relief. "Praise TGR, that god was intense, and his secretary worse," she says. Then, her following words start pouring out like a waterfall. “So, did you guys get a good one? Mine already gathered a few followers for me! What kind of powers d’you think you'll have? Wait, never mind, it’ll show up soon-- I can’t wait to see it!"

Luke laughs and makes a warding motion with both hands. "Okay, okay! Yes, cool, no idea, and awesome. In that order. How about you, Krill?"

Krill shrugs. "My heroine is fine, I guess. I have no clue what I'll be able to do. I'm not even sure what I want to do."

Krill’s strange look of familiarity jumps to Luke’s mind. An idea fits Krill like a glove, but Luke isn’t sure if he is right.

"Oh, don't be so grumpy, Krill!" Somn says, punching the drow god playfully in the shoulder. "I'm sure you have some idea what you want to do, right?"

Krill rubs his shoulder and ignores her question. Instead, he asks, "Where do we go next?”

“I believe you should be heading to orientation,” says a deep voice from right behind them. The three spin around to find an intimidating dragon-humanoid god standing only a few steps away, his runic blade now hidden from sight.

“Professor Domerthos!” yelps Somn, jumping in surprise. “D-did you teleport again, sir?” she asks, recognising him from the room earlier.

Something that could count as a smile twists the god’s face, displaying rows of razor-sharp teeth. “I wouldn’t exactly call it teleportation. Now, hurry along you godlings. It wouldn’t do to miss the first official day of classes now, would it?”

“R-right away, sir,” says Somn. She whirls around, grabs the boys by their wrists and speeds down the hall, pulling them along with her. Luke somehow finds his cheeks burning at her touch.

“Somn, slow down!” yells Krill. He then notices Luke’s tomato-red face. “Dude, are you okay?”

Luke surprises himself by being able to respond smoothly. “Perfectly fine.” he says. He avoids his friend’s curious stare by looking around as the trio speeds along. “What do you think orientation would be like?” he wonders aloud.

“I have no ide--WOAH!” Krill dodges a student-goddess, narrowly missing her shaky stack of books. “Umm, sorry!” he calls.

“Dude, we’re gonna have to turn,” says Luke, seeing the hallway splitting into two paths.

“HEY!” yells Krill, trying to get Somn’s attention. “SLOW DOWN!”

“Sorry,” apologizes Somn, “but the prof’s right-- we’re gonna be late if we don’t rush.” She suddenly swerves hard to the right, sliding along the ground before picking up speed again.

Luke finally recognises the speed they were travelling at. “You’re using godpower?” he asks Somn.

“Yes,” says Somn,  rushing past a few more classes and weaving through surprisingly calm students. “Almost there… Bam!”

The goddess puts on the brakes, skidding to a halt. She looks around, then chuckles and walks backwards a few steps. “Overshot,” she explains. “Here we are.”

She steps through yet another pair of double-doors, leading to a large courtyard. Here, young deities of all shapes and sizes gather around a physically middle-aged human god, looking rather normal in his aloha shirt and cop jacket compared to those around him. He spots the the newcomers and smiles warmly at them. “Just in time,” he says.

“Nice to see you too, Professor Azz,” says Somn, smiling back in return. “This is Krill and Luke,” she adds, nodding her head in the said person’s direction to indicate who she is referring to.

“Welcome, both of you. My name is Azzageddi, but my students usually call me Professor Azz. Now,” he says, turning to the group at large. “I will be briefing all of you on some absolute basics--some which you may already know, depending on when you have arrived, who you have been talking to, where you have been and what you have been doing. Nevertheless, listen closely, as you might learn something new.

“All gods are born in batches--one per seasonal cycle. You are all the youngest. As the youngest batch of gods, you are the weakest. You will be unable to prevail against certain monsters in a direct battle until you are older and have become more skilled, so above all, do not bite off more than you can chew. You can have all the revenge you want on the monsters later.

“As you mature, you will gain special powers unique to you, what we call 'niche powers'. These powers normally can be divided into two rough, broad categories-- they can be active and possibly assist in a violent confrontation; or they can be passive and influence others or yourself. They can also awaken almost immediately after birth--" Here Azzageddi dips his head in Somn's direction. "--or only show up under special circumstances. The categories we have set, however, are broad for a reason-- your niche powers can be almost anything, and will set your role in the eyes of potential followers. Do not laugh at late-bloomers," adds Azzageddi sternly, " for there is always a reason The Great Random has decided it so."

"Excuse me, sir," says a god who, to Krill's disbelief, is a literal walking, talking eggplant. "Forgive me for asking, but who or what exactly is The Great Random? I feel like as if I know who he--or it--is, but only in the widest sense."

The crowd immediately breaks out into a babble of agreement, all of which Azzageddi shushes with a wave of his hand. "That is an excellent question, Brinjal. The Great Random, or TGR for those who find its full name a mouthful, at its very basic, is a force who influences all that we deities do. Some refer to it as He, some as She, others are nothing more than a cosmic force."

"WHAT, SO BASICALLY IT’S JUST LUCK PERSONIFIED?" blurts out a being which Krill could only describe as energy somehow compressed into the form of a human with falcon wings erupting from his back.

"I suppose you can say that," says Azzageddi with a knowing smile, "although truth to be told, it is not my place to tell you. I will tell you right here and now that some of the stranger gods actually worship TGR, but this practice is generally frowned upon. Whether or not there is a sentience behind TGR, among other things, is something you will discuss in your Immortal-Mortal philosophy classes in your senior years, if I'm not mistaken. For now, simply consider it as just an elemental force that drives the known planes of this universe, both that of the mortal and the immortal. Nonetheless, you are free to believe as you please. Now, where was I... Ah, yes. Your niche powers.

"Now, this doesn't mean that without your niche powers, useful or not in battle, you are completely helpless. You will be taught sealing very soon, which is a young god's main form of defense against monsters, though I'm afraid it serves more to slow them down and to give you time to call for help than to stop them in their tracks. Spells, which will be taught later, will be your most likely form of offense; among their uses for other things, such as--"

Without warning, another section of the building's block explodes, large chunks heading on a direct collision-course with the hapless young gods and goddesses. Some of the newer deities who have yet to see the occasional result of the seniors' classes start screaming and scrambling for cover. But before they can do anything, the chunks of building material smashes into and disintegrates against a warding spell, the barrier glowing white as it vapourises the flying debris. After the last speck of rubble gets turned into nothing but smoke, Azzageddi looks pointedly at the crowd of alarmed godlings around him.

"-- the protective barrier," he finishes calmly. He waits till they re-settle down, then proceeds with his orientation.

"As I was saying," he continues, "Spells can also be sealed into scrolls, sealing both the incant and the prayers necessary. Now, as all of you will have learned when you acquired your Chosen One-- in other words, your heroes or heroines-- they sustain us. As long as we have one follower, we can live indefinitely. As long as we have one unused prayer, we can cast a spell. The mortals give us both immortality and power through their following, and this is why we keep them--and why we should always treat them well. While the individual number of prayers goes down equally for all who cast the same spell, not all will gain the same effect. Some are naturally better with magic, some are better warriors. This is the way of things, so I suggest teamwork to utilize specialization.

Azzageddi pauses, looking surprised at himself. Then he smiles at the young, eager faces staring at him. "It seems that this rambling old god is finally wrapping up his speech for today. I'm afraid there's one last thing I must tell all of you before I can let you guys off for the night. I regret to say I'm not teaching any of you this year, as I have been delegated to some of your seniors' classes--"

The older students watching the proceedings from above immediately erupt into an ground-shaking cheer, with someone casting confetti and streamers and another blowing it all over the grounds. Azzageddi simply shoots a warning glare at the seniors, leaving the magicked streamers and confetti to fall to the ground in silence before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

The professor shakes his head, trying not to show his pleasure at the cheering, then turns back to the younger students. "You get the idea. I’m aware that you all may have things to do and places to be, but it's been nightfall for a while already, so I recommend bed rest first. For those who have been here for a while, please guide your fellow students to the apartments and help them choose a room. If you wish, you may share a bedroom, but I would like to bring to your attention that a room has already been provided for each and every single one of you. Goodnight."

And with that as his parting words, Azzageddi disperses the assembly. Seizing the opportunity, Neko and Fred hurry over to Somn, Luke and Krill. Somn grins at Neko. "I guess you can't enjoy your nocturnal habits for much longer."

Neko brushes it off with a wave. "Eh, I'll live. So," she says, turning to the new boys. "Apartment block's that way,” she says, pointing in the general direction of one of the Academy’s buildings. “Any preferences and customization you want, you'll have to figure out how yourself. We'll take you shopping. If there's any interior renovation to be done, cast a silencing spell or I will rip out your eyeballs. If I don't, someone else will-- our entire batch stays in the same block. Whatever you do, try not to stare into people's bedrooms. If that doesn’t guarantee your eyeballs gouged out, I don’t know what will. Now," Neko snaps her fingers, turns around in a swift motion and starts blending in with the throng of trainee deities going back into the building. “Come on,” she says curtly. “We’re not done just yet.”