Shadowcroft Year 3 - Chapter Three

A NEW SHADOWCROFT CHAPTER EVERY MONDAY!

At the welcome dinner that night, Logan and the Terrible Twelfth sat at their usual table near the back of the Golden Serpent Hall, which offered them a great view of all the incoming Freshman. There were some tragedies there. The Threshing had been especially cruel that year.

Logan didn’t much care about the food being served. Marko had found a Wayfarer Inn breakfast burrito at the bottom of his suitcase and Logan had tossed it into his digestion pit along with some moldy bread and a chicken carcass. Still, he didn’t want to be rude, so he drank some raspberry lemonade and nibbled on pretzels. Eating and drinking just seemed like so much wasted energy at this point, but appearances mattered.

“Magmarty, you’re so hilarious,” Lady Elesiel of Everstar—Undead Queen and Chadrigoth’s former girlfriend—twittered from the next table over. The lich queen and the earth golem were sitting with Fractilla, the ice imp, and the rest of the Ninth Circle. Elesiel and Jimi must’ve made friends with Fractilla and her friends during their Offensive Design Class the year before.

Magmarty, Chadrigoth’s former right-hand man, and Lady Elesiel of were practically hanging off each other. Elesiel fed chunks of raw meat into Magmarty’s rocky maw; the meat sizzled as it cooked inside his mouth. The frosty, undead queen kept stealing secretive glances at Chadrigoth, who was currently sitting with Logan, Tet, and the rest of the terrible twelfth. Logan had never been great with relationships, but even he could see that Elesiel wasn’t over the Abyss Lord; she was obviously trying to make him jealous, not that it seemed like it was working.

Chadrigoth had a plate piled high with fruits, vegetables, and some fragrant saffron rice. He was as big and blue as ever, though he’d started wearing a black choker with matching black leather bracelets. They actually went well with his long, black horns.

Tet Akhat glanced at his tray. The feline sandmaster had several strips of steak along with a liver paste and a few chunks of chicken.

Chadrigoth grinned. “I’m going vegan,” he said. “You know, I can’t help but feel bad for the little animals.”

“You’ve probably murdered a hundred dungeoneers,” Tet replied, her voice as dry as the deserts she’d once called home.

“Well yeah,” he said with a shrug. “But they’re bad. I mean, they’re actively destroying reality. We’re trying to save it, including all the animals and stuff. You should consider trying it, Tet. You’d think going vegan would hinder your growth, but I’ve made more gains than ever.” He lifted an arm and flex an enormous blue bicep.

One of Tet’s ears twitched in annoyance. “I am a carnivorous feline dungeon core. I will not try it.” She slowly dragged her chicken meat through the liver paste as though to prove her point. “Besides, our true nourishment comes from Apothos.”

“That and stuffed corn tubes!” Marko had a stack of what look liked taquitos with three different sauces—sour cream, guacamole, and a spicy salsa, though he didn’t call them that. They were white, green, and red yummies according to the satyr.

Treacle ate wheat stalks wrapped in grass and drank copious amounts of dark beer.

Inga poured syrup on everything, including her steak, and followed it up with a collection of cookies and melted ice cream. “Oh, look there.” She  pointed with her spoon. “See that half-faced man over there. He’s one of the incoming freshman. His name is Ducalt. He had a sister—the other half of him—but she got killed in the threshing.”

Logan turned. The guy only had half of a head. Other than that, he looked normal enough with two arms, two legs, and a white toga edged in gold.

Chadrigoth looked genuinely pained. “That’s rough, buddy. Being the surviving twin, his dungeon core will only have half the Apothos. We should be extra friendly to him.”

Inga’s smile lit up her face. “Yes, yes we should.” She reached up and absently touched the fedora resting on her gleaming white hair. “I still feel bad about Melvin.”

“Don’t remind me.”  Marko sighed. “Those cherry turnovers were heavenly. Such a shame we were so mean to him.”

Tears shined in Chadrigoth’s eyes. He reached out and took Marko’s furry hand. “I know, buddy. I know. But we are not our pasts. We are our futures, and our futures start today, and those futures will never end. For we are timeless creatures, destined to be together. Forever. And ever. And ever.”

Marko slowly withdrew his hand. “Yeah. Okay. So what you just said might be super wise. Or it might be super creepy. I just don’t know. I’m surprised you’re sitting with us, big guy.”

Chadrigoth wiped the tears from his eyes. “Things with Lady Elesiel and Jimi Magmarty are strained at the moment.” He shot a look toward the two. “I mean, we’re still the First Cohort, and we are amazing, but my change of heart has taken a bit of getting used to. Lady Elesiel doesn’t really like this new version of me. She wants me to go back to being like I was before, and that’s… well, it’s just not me anymore. It’s been really hard for both of us, but sometimes people change and grow apart, and it winds up being for the best.”

“That is quite profound and very mature of you, Chadrigoth,” Inga said.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ve grown a lot since we all almost died at the hand of Marko’s possessed minion. Sure, it’s been tough. I lost my entire identity, my girlfriend, my best friend, and the respect of my family—not that they ever really respected me—but thankfully, I still have Logan. I feel more connected to him than ever, even though we haven’t been symbiotically bonded for… Three months, one week, two days, and forty-seven minutes.”

“Now that’s creepy.” Marko pointed a taquito at him.

Tet gestured to the severed twin. “Looks like he’s been put into a good cohort. They’re calling it the Backstories. He’s teamed up with a swamp dragon, a shadow lamia, and a hill giantess. It seems all of them have very tragic backstories.”

Up front, Shadowcroft rose from where the professors were eating and approached the podium. The great hall fell into a quiet hush—the air thick with anticipation.

Logan recognized all the teachers from the very fashionable couple—Yullis Rockheart and Arketa the Hellgazer—to the shark headed John Toothbyte, and on to Professor Bartholomew Nekhbet, who looked liked he’d just come home from a hard day working at an accounting firm. The birdman sat next to the tiger-headed Professor Suresh the Merciless, the Cunning, and the Bloodthirsty. The rakshasa was wearing a sequined white tuxedo. The glittering sequins matched his diamond jewelry—rings, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings. Professor Suresh looked like the front man of a Poison cover band, who might start singing power ballads at any minute.

Logan wondered where their new cultivation teacher was. He saw their old professor, Rainsap Moonbow. The naga was sipping tea and looking as serene as ever. His exact opposite, in every way, was Zuzanna Zantho. The fairy fetch was in full Greek armor and wore her customary scowl. She had a miniature table sitting on top of the full-sized table. When not starring daggers at the student,  she was busy gulping down tiny cups of beer and eating schnitzel with a knife and fork, held in the European style, like she’d just as soon be carving up a wild boar.

Shadowcroft waited patiently at the podium. His beard was very green. A few flowers sprouted from the grass growing from his scalp. He raised his tree-branch arms. He was a Treowen, and ancient, even for a tree guardian. “Welcome, students, welcome to our very important academy.”

Before Shadowcroft could say his catchphrase, Chadrigoth rose and raised a fist. “We are alive, and we can do wonderful things!” He sat back down.

All eyes turned to take in Logan’s table.

Marko waved to his many friends.

Inga and Tet closed their eyes; they looked like they wanted to physically melt through the floor.

Logan and Treacle exchanged glances. So this was their lives now.

Shadowcroft smiled. “Yes, Chadrigoth Nobleblade. Yes, that is exactly right. You took the words right out of my mouth. This year, my friends, is a special year indeed. Our fourth years will spend most of their time in various work-study programs, and I’m excited to say, we even have some students who will be sent to Eritreus.”

He paused for applause.

Tet clapped politely, but Chadrigoth didn’t. He put a hand over his eyes. “I am so triggered. Just the name of my homeworld is hard to hear. So many bad memories! I have a lot of work still to do, that’s for sure.”

Logan didn’t know what to say. Chadrigoth’s homelife had been rough.

Shadowcroft quieted the crowd. “I am also happy to announce that we will be hosting the interschool dungeon tournament this year, and the top three cohorts from our third-years will be competing for the honor of our illustrious institution. They’ll even have their own special tournament class to prepare them for the challenges ahead. Should I announce who they are now? Or should I wait?”

Mark leapt up onto the table. “Now, Skip! Announce it now! The anticipation is killing me.”

“It’s Headmaster Shadowcroft to you, maggot!” Professor Zantho roared, flipping over her tiny table in a fit of rage. For being so small, she had a voice like a bullhorn.

“Sorry!” Marko sat down and whispered to his friends, “Do you think it’s us? I mean, I think it might be us. It could be right? Right?”

“Calm down, my little goat friend,” Chadrigoth soothed. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Marko sipped his beer, grinning. “I’m little. I’m a goat. He’s not wrong.”

Now that Logan and Inga had evolved to B-Class, Marko was the smallest of them. Even Tet was taller and more muscular.

Shadowcroft motioned to the front row tables. “Although we have many accomplished students amongst the third years, it should come as no surprise that the First Cohort will be competing on behalf of our school. And let me take this moment to let you all know that for the past decade, Nightfall University has won. Really, they’ve dominated the tournament for fifty years. I’m very tired of hearing their headmistress, Lolozi Webbs, throw that cursed fact in my face. So, Chadrigoth, I hope you can help us take home the trophy and break this losing streak of ours.”

Chadrigoth stood up and cleared his throat. “I’ll do my best, headmaster, but I have to say, there is more important things than winning. Friends. Good food. The satisfaction of a job well done. Besides, at the end of the day, I might not be the most powerful dungeon core here, but if I am, I will try and do my school proud.”

He sat down, the wooden bench squealing beneath his formidable weight.

“What a moron,” Jimi Magmarty muttered, loud enough for Logan to hear.

Professor Zantho snapped her finger and pointed at Jimi. She drew a thumb across her throat. Jimi didn’t say more.

Shadowcroft appeared a bit puzzled about Chadrigoth’s humble words, but he then pointed at Fractilla the ice imp. “Though the First Cohort is the clear front runner, the Ninth Circle will also compete. You must be very proud, Professor Suresh, that your—”

Suresh popped up instantly. “Yes, I am proud of Fractilla, Larry, Toygee, and Sadako. Please stand. Please let everyone look upon you and despair.”

The Ninth Circle was comprised of the ice imp, Larry the snow golem, Toygee the gecko behemoth, and Sadako, a rather generic lady in white ghost. All stood up and bowed.

Suresh beamed like a proud father. “I am so very excited to not only teach the tournament class, but to guide this exceptional cohort to victory. And now, let’s talk about the many field trips that the first and second year students will be attending. Also, we should note that the upper classman will be able to take off-world classes during their second semester.”

“That is all very good, Suresh,” Shadowcroft said, sounding mildly amused, “but we are not quite done with the announcements regarding the tournament. There is still one more cohort that will be participating. As you know, Suresh, we didn’t merely take our normal standings. We have analyzed every cohort to see who will give us the best chance of winning this year. Have I explained how much I want to win? Chadrigoth’s wise words aside, sometimes it feels good to have a solid victory under your belt.”

Suresh switched from proud lion to annoyed kitty, his stripped tail flicking in agitation. “The Ninth Circle shall clench victory for our vaunted academy, Headmaster. No one cares about the leftovers…”

“I happen to care,” Shadowcroft said. “Although not conventionally strong, I believe the last cohort has a very good chance of bringing home the trophy.” “Logan, Inga, Marko, and Treacle.” Shadowcroft gestured to them.  “Please, all of you stand up. Despite your nom de plume, the Terrible Twelfth are in fact quite extraordinary and will be the third cohort to compete in this year’s games.”

The Great Hall broke into thunderous applause as they stood. Although Logan and his friends weren’t the strongest dungeon cores around, they were folk heroes of a sort, especially among the dungeons that were often overlooked or undervalued. They were loser, washouts, and none had come from privileged families of powerful backgrounds; yet despite everything stacked against them, they had stuck together and endured, winning the respect of even those who had once hated them.

Marko, naturally, lapped up the attention. “We will not let you down. We’ll find a way to win. We always have in the past. Because we are heroes. And universally adored. And for those who aren’t clapping…” He pointed at his eyes and then pointed at the crowd. “I know who you are. I know where you sleep.”

Inga pulled him down.

Shadowcroft then shuffled through some papers. “Very good. Very good. Now, in other news, we do have some exciting field trips planned for our first and second years. And yes, the upper classman as well as the third-year cultivation class will be going off world. I’m sorry to say, our new cultivation teacher, Darnol Zeggenerschwar, wasn’t able to join us. He’s actually at the Sacred Hollows, tying another knot in his core, and increasing his power. Other professors couldn’t attend for more mundane reasons.” Shadowcroft looked disappointed.

Logan noticed that Professor Ikgix, the Threshing Turtle, wasn’t there. Logan hoped the ancient tortoise was okay.

Shadowcroft continued. “We are going to try and make sure the tournament doesn’t disrupt things too much. And speaking of disruptions, you might see representatives of the Department of Universal Dungeon Efficiency lingering about. Do not be alarmed. On top of hosting the interschool tournament, they have decided to audit us, which hasn’t happened in five hundred years. Their timing, as always, is extraordinary , though I have no doubt we shall pass with flying colors.”

Shadowcroft sounded confident. But his professors all took that moment to gulp down their drinks. Yullis Rockheart, the Rector Prime and Shadowcroft’s sergeant at arms, even looked a bit unsettled. He quickly  hid his discomfort with raw, unrefined rage.

“But above all, my friends,” Shadowcroft said, “let’s remember, even when the days are difficult, as long as we have uncracked cores, there is hope for a better tomorrow. The work we do here is vital in saving the multiverse from those who would plunder every bit of energy for their own selfish gains. We are here for the Tree of Souls. Always remember that.” His arm lengthened so he could grab his wine glass. He lifted the glass high. “For the Tree of Souls!”

“For the Tree of Souls!” The entire room toasted him.

Logan drank his lemonade and thought about the Department of Dungeon Efficiency for a minute. Then he laughed. “It’s an acronym. D. U. D. E. That spells dude. Do they audit schools?”

Inga nodded. “Most of the time, they audit dungeons to make sure nodes are being properly protected. Most dungeons are held accountable by the dungeoneers and a sense of self-preservation. But sometimes, that’s not enough. So the Department has certain criteria that all dungeons have to meet. Otherwise, they are removed from their nodes.”

“So what are they doing here?” Logan asked.

“It is a bit unusual, but they can also audit schools just like they audit dungeons,” Inga replied. “I’m not concerned. The Shadowcroft Academy is a bastion of efficacy. It shall pass with the highest marks, I’m sure.”

“Of course it will.” Chadrigoth rose. “I’m going to go welcome Duvalt and the Backstories. This is my chance to make amends for all the freshman I’ve tormented over the last couple of years. Wish me luck!”

Marko also stood. “And I have to go give GK a very slimy hug. Don’t worry, I’ll be cordial to Nemoy, even though that elderly mermaid is not a good egg. Mark my words. He’s bad. But I’ll be nice. Right, Chadrigoth.

“Right, my little goat friend.”

Treacle chewed his cud—a little after dinner dessert—while he watched the two depart, carving their way through the crowds and the packed tables.

Logan still had a bunch of questions about the Department and the audit they were doing that year. He also wasn’t quite sure about the tournament, and why they needed a whole class to prepare for it. There was still just so much he didn’t know about this world. But one thing was clear. His third year at the Shadowcroft Academy for Dungeons was going to be as busy as ever. He just hoped it would be slightly less deadly…