No Class Found

The reunion at Glasshold’s east gate lasted less than five minutes before the officials began dividing everyone up.

Marius directed Calen and Doc toward the city. The Archmagister remained beside Cassira and Serin, while the Imperial commander turned his attention to the wagon and the armed gnolls surrounding it.

“Bring the wagon through the gate,” the commander ordered. “The escort can be searched inside.”

Mazoga stepped forward.

“The wagon isn’t entering the city.”

The commander looked at her.

“Our depot is in the outer district, near Thornwick Rest,” Mazoga continued. “That’s where our supplies and trade goods are going.”

“The wagon carried the princess.”

“And now she’s standing beside you.”

The commander’s gaze shifted toward the gnoll scouts. Two of them still carried the launchers lowered toward the snow.

“The weapons will be inspected.”

Rurran’s ears pulled back.

Mazoga raised one hand before he could respond.

“They can be inspected at the depot.”

“That is not your decision.”

“No,” the Archmagister said. “It is mine.”

The Archmagister stepped closer, his robes stirring in the wind.

“The depot falls within Glasshold’s outer district. The wagon may continue there under watch supervision. There is no reason to block the gate while we argue over cargo.”

The commander studied him for a moment.

“Two soldiers will accompany it.”

Mazoga shrugged. “Fine.”

Marius turned toward Cassira.

“Your Highness, protected quarters have been prepared near the southern barracks. You’ll remain under Imperial guard until the investigation is complete.”

“No,” the Archmagister said.

Marius looked at him.

“Princess Cassira is an enrolled student of the Academy,” the Archmagister continued. “While she remains in Glasshold, she falls under Academy protection.”

“She is the High King’s daughter.”

“And this is an independent Academy city.”

The commander stepped closer. “She was abducted while under that protection.”

the Archmagister’s expression hardened.

“And your soldiers were nowhere near Glasshold when it happened.”

The two men stared at one another.

Serin moved to Cassira’s side.

“She’ll be safer at the Academy.”

Marius looked toward Cassira. “Your Highness?”

Cassira did not hesitate.

“I’m returning to the Academy.”

The commander’s jaw tightened, but Marius raised one hand before he could object.

“Imperial guards will be placed outside the grounds.”

“You may place them outside,” the Archmagister said. “They will not enter without permission.”

Cassira glanced back toward Doc and Calen.

“And them?”

Marius followed her gaze.

“They are witnesses. They’ll provide their statements separately.”

“They’re not under arrest.”

It was not quite a question.

“No,” Marius said. “Not at present.”

“So they’ll be allowed to leave once they’ve given their statements?”

Marius’s answer came after the smallest pause.

“Assuming their accounts raise no further concerns.”

Doc heard Calen mutter something under his breath.

Cassira’s expression tightened.

“It’s fine,” Doc said.

Everyone looked toward him.

He glanced at the soldiers, the investigator, and the commander standing beside him.

“They have questions. We have answers.”

Ironha stepped away from the wagon and moved to his side.

“I’m going with him.”

The commander looked her over. “Why?”

“Because he was unconscious for eight days and nearly died before that.” Ironha folded her arms. “He’s still recovering.”

“I’m fine,” Doc said.

Ironha did not look at him.

Marius considered her for a moment. “You may accompany us.”

“Good.”

Doc looked toward Mazoga. “See you all at the depot. Check on Bran and the others.”

Mazoga nodded. “We’ll be there.”

Marron climbed back onto the bench. Tanna moved toward Snow Tusk’s harness while Rurran began directing the scouts into position around the wagon.

the Archmagister gestured toward the gate.

“Serin. Bring Cassira and Mira with us.”

Mira hesitated before stepping down from the wagon. Her eyes moved toward the road leading to Thornwick Rest, but she stayed beside Cassira.

Serin noticed.

“We’ll go there after,” she said quietly. “Your parents are safe.”

Mira nodded, though she still looked toward the outer district.

The groups began to separate.

The wagon turned away from the gate, following the road along the outer wall toward the depot.

the Archmagister led Cassira and Mira through the gate toward the Academy, Serin staying close beside them.

Marius waited until they were moving before turning toward Doc and Calen.

“This way.”

The commander fell into step beside him.

Imperial soldiers moved ahead to clear the road.

Doc followed, Fish pacing at his side and Ironha close enough to catch him if his legs decided to prove her right.

Calen looked toward the soldiers surrounding them.

“This feels a lot like being arrested.”

“We’re not restrained,” Doc said.

“That’s your standard?”

“It’s a useful distinction.”

Ironha sighed beside him.

They passed beneath the Imperial banners and entered Glasshold.

Doc walked between the Imperial soldiers, his gaze tracking upward across the buildings lining Glasshold's streets. The city rose around them in layers—ancient stone shaped by hands that predated any modern guild, carved into the mountain.

Calen walked on Doc’s other side, quiet beneath the soldiers’ attention. His eyes moved across the streets, but he stayed close enough that Doc could tell he was listening.

Beside him, Ironha had stopped paying attention to the soldiers entirely. Her eyes moved from carved archway to weathered foundation, lingering on details Doc would have missed.

He smiled.

"First time in a big city?"

Ironha laughed—a genuine sound that made the nearest soldier glance back—and shook her head.

"No. The Elven Conclave where I trained was actually just outside Corveth, one of the Empire's trade hubs." She gestured toward the crystalline tracings threading through the stonework overhead. "But Glasshold is different."

Doc followed her gaze.

"How so?"

"It's one of the oldest cities in the known world," Ironha said. "Pre-Imperial. Pre-clan, even. Some of these foundations go back to the first northern kingdoms—back when people didn't use class-granted skills to shape stone. They sang to it. Negotiated with it."

She pointed toward a narrow alley where two buildings leaned together, their corners flowing into one another without visible joints.

"See that? That's not mortar. That's stone-sung architecture. The builders convinced the mountain to reshape itself rather than cutting it apart." Her voice carried quiet reverence. "The entire lower city was grown rather than built."

Doc studied the seamless integration, noting how the crystal veins followed natural stress lines through the rock.

"Grown," he repeated.

"Like a tree," Ironha confirmed. "Slowly and Deliberately. Each generation adding another layer, another hall, another district."

She gestured toward the upper terraces where newer Imperial construction sat against older foundations.

"You can see where that stopped. The Empire brought different methods. Faster. More efficient. But the old city remembers what it was."

Doc chuckled.

Ironha glanced at him. "What?"

"I didn't know you were into buildings."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not interested in the buildings themselves."

"No?"

"No." Ironha's expression softened. "I'm interested in the stories they tell."

Ahead of them, Marius slowed his pace until he walked nearly beside them, his attention fixed on Ironha.

"If you think this is remarkable," he said, "you should see the Imperial Capital."

Ironha looked at him.

Marius continued, his tone shifting into something that sounded rehearsed—the voice of someone who had described this before and knew exactly which details impressed visitors.

"The Heart of the Empire is entirely different. Where Glasshold was shaped through negotiation, the Capital was commanded. Every street follows perfect geometric alignment. Every structure is reinforced through enchantment strong enough to withstand siege and time alike."

He gestured vaguely southward.

"The towers don't lean. The walls don't age. The Imperial architects don't ask—they declare what stone will become, and the runic arrays ensure it stays that way for centuries."

Doc noted the pride in Marius's voice.

"Sounds efficient," Doc said.

"It is." Marius glanced back. "Glasshold is beautiful. Historic. But fragile. The Empire builds to last."

Ironha said nothing, though her gaze moved back toward the stone-sung archways overhead.

The road began to slope downward, following the natural curve of the mountain's southern face. The buildings around them shifted—older structures giving way to reinforced garrison architecture that matched neither the ancient foundations nor the newer Imperial additions.

Ahead, the Southwall Barracks emerged from the lower tier.

It sprawled along the inner face of Glasshold's southern wall—a squat, practical complex built from the same crystal-veined stone as the rest of the city but shaped with military function. Watchtowers flanked the main gate. Imperial banners hung motionless overhead.

Soldiers moved through the courtyard beyond the gate in disciplined formations.

Marius gestured toward the entrance.

"We'll conduct the interviews inside."

Calen looked up at the watchtowers. “Interviews. Right.”

Doc glanced at him. “We’re still not restrained.”

“You’re really holding onto that.”

Doc looked toward the barracks, then toward Fish, who walked calmly beside him despite the soldiers' wary glances.

"After you," Doc said.

Marius led them through the gate.

The Southwall Barracks swallowed them into shadow.

The shadow gave way to a wide stone courtyard.

Soldiers crossed between the surrounding buildings in steady lines, carrying crates, weapons, and bundles of cold-weather gear. Orders echoed from the upper walkways. Several men looked toward Doc as he entered, then toward Fish walking beside him.

Calen slowed as another group of soldiers crossed the courtyard ahead of them.

“This place is crowded.”

Doc watched the formation pass.

“More than it needs to be.”

Marius glanced back at them but continued walking.

The commander led them across the courtyard toward the eastern wing. Two soldiers opened the reinforced doors ahead of him.

Ironha stayed close beside Doc.

“You’re still feeling alright?”

“Yes.”

“Any pain?”

“Nothing unusual.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

Doc glanced at her. “I'm fine Ironha, truly.”

Ironha’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“I’m fine,” he repeated.

“You say that too often.”

They entered a long corridor lined with plain wooden doors. The noise of the courtyard faded behind thick stone, replaced by footsteps and the occasional murmur from the rooms ahead.

Marius stopped at an intersection.

“Your statements will be taken separately.”

Calen frowned. “Why?”

“To ensure the accounts are independent.”

“So you can see if we say anything different.”

“Yes.”

Calen looked toward Doc.

Doc nodded. “Just tell them what happened.”

A soldier gestured toward the left-hand corridor.

Calen followed reluctantly, glancing back once before disappearing around the corner.

Ironha moved to follow Doc when Marius stepped into her path.

"You'll need to wait outside."

“I’m his healer.”

“And you may examine him before and after,” Marius replied. “But his statement will be taken privately.”

Ironha folded her arms.

“He is still recovering from a serious injury.”

“If his condition changes, you will be called immediately.”

She looked toward Doc.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know you think that.”

“I am standing.”

“That is a very low standard.”

Doc smiled faintly.

Ironha did not.

“Don’t use any mana,” she said.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“And if you start hurting—”

“I’ll tell you.”

She stared at him for another moment, then stepped back toward one of the benches lining the corridor.

Fish remained beside Doc.

The commander looked down at her.

“The animal stays outside.”

“She stays with me,” Doc said.

“That was not a request.”

Fish raised her head and met the commander’s gaze.

A faint violet shimmer passed through the fur along her shoulders.

The nearest soldier tightened his grip on his spear.

Marius looked between them.

“Let her remain.”

The commander turned toward him. “You want that creature inside the room?”

"She is calm," Marius said. "I would prefer not to discover whether separating her from him changes that."

The commander's mouth pressed into a thin line, but he continued down the corridor.

Marius gestured for Doc to follow.

The questioning room was plain.

A single table stood at its center with two chairs on one side and one on the other. A small window near the ceiling let in a narrow strip of gray light. Someone had placed a pitcher of water and three cups near a stack of papers.

Doc took the lone chair.

Fish settled beside him.

Marius sat across from him and arranged several sheets of parchment. The commander remained standing near the wall.

Marius dipped a quill into the ink.

“State your full name.”

“Robert Duckworth. Most people call me Doc.”

“Place of birth?”

Doc hesitated.

“Does it matter?”

“It may.”

“Not anywhere you would recognize.”

Marius paused with the quill above the page.

“Where do you currently reside?”

“Foroughfore.”

The commander spoke from the wall.

“I've never heard of that settlement before”

“It's new.” Doc said

“Who leads it”

“Edda leads Foroughfore,” Doc said. “Mazoga commands the militia. Marron handles most of our trade.”

“So authority is divided.”

“They have different responsibilities.”

Marius wrote something down.

“What is your position in Foroughfore?”

“I don’t have an official title.”

“You traveled beneath its banner.”

“It was our trade wagon.”

“And the armed gnolls?”

“They’re from Threeburrow. Rurran commands them.”

“So two settlements were involved.”

“Threeburrow sent an escort to help retrieve me after I was injured.”

The commander gave a quiet grunt.

Marius continued.

“What is your relationship with Princess Cassira?”

“I know her.”

“How well?”

“Not very.”

Marius looked up.

“You entered the Waste to rescue someone you barely know.”

“I entered the Waste because Calen was already following the men who took her.”

“That does not explain why you followed him.”

“He would have died alone.”

The room went quiet for a moment.

“That was sufficient reason?”

“Yes.”

“What happened after you entered the Waste?”

Doc gave him the shortened version.

He followed Calen’s trail and found him after a creature attacked the kidnappers who had caught him. One survived and led them deeper into the Waste, where Cassira and Mira were being held inside an abandoned clan stronghold.

The creature reached the stronghold before they did. By the time Doc arrived, most of the men inside were dead. Calen went below to find the girls while Doc and Fish kept the creature occupied. They regrouped in the lower hall, killed it, and escaped with Cassira and Mira alive.

Doc left out most of the fight. Marius stopped him occasionally to confirm names, locations, and the order of events, filling several sheets of parchment before the account was finished.

The commander remained near the wall throughout it. He said little, but his attention sharpened whenever Doc mentioned the two kidnappers who had survived.

Marius looked down at his notes.

“The two kidnappers. Where are they now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t bring them back with you?”

“I was unconscious when they left.”

The commander pushed away from the wall.

“Convenient.”

Doc looked at him. “For who?”

“The only two surviving members of the group responsible for the abduction disappeared before either could be questioned.”

“I was unconscious.”

“And everyone else simply allowed them to leave?”

“I don’t know what happened after I collapsed.”

The commander opened his mouth again, but Marius cut him off with a look.

"We'll ask the others."

He made another note before continuing.

“Did Princess Cassira ask you to rescue her?”

“No.”

“Were you acting under orders from Foroughfore?”

“No.”

“Did anyone promise you payment?”

“No.”

“Land, trade privileges, or political support?”

“No.”

Marius looked up from the parchment.

“Then why did you continue after finding Calen?”

“Cassira and Mira were still being held.”

“You barely knew either of them.”

“They still needed help.”

The commander studied him from across the room.

“You crossed the Waste, entered a fortified stronghold, and nearly died for two people you hardly knew because they needed help.”

“Yes.”

“And you expected nothing in return.”

“No.”

The commander’s expression suggested he found that harder to believe than the creature.

“No one takes that kind of risk without wanting something.”

Doc frowned. “I wanted to bring them back alive.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know.”

Marius set down his quill.

“You returned the High King’s daughter beneath Foroughfore’s banner, accompanied by armed soldiers from Another northern settlement. Whether you intended it or not, some may interpret that as a political statement.”

“The banner belongs to the wagon. The soldiers came to retrieve me.”

“That may be what happened,” Marius said. “It may not be how others choose to present it.”

Doc leaned back slightly.

“So this isn’t about why I rescued her. It’s about what everyone thinks I meant by rescuing her.”

“Intent and consequence are not always the same thing,” Marius said.

“There was no political intent.”

Marius held his gaze for a moment, then returned to his papers.

“I’ll include that in your statement.”

The commander remained unconvinced, but said nothing more.

Marius gathered the completed pages into a neat stack.

“We’ll compare your account with the other statements. There may be additional questions afterward.”

“Am I free to leave?”

“For now.”

Doc stood, and Fish rose beside him.

The door opened.

Ironha stood from the bench as Doc stepped into the corridor. Her eyes moved over him once, lingering on his face.

“You look tired.”

Doc let out a quiet laugh.

“Politics.”

Calen was already waiting farther down the hall with two soldiers beside him. He looked no happier than Doc felt.

They had nearly reached the courtyard when a man in Academy robes stepped into their path.

“Doc?"

Doc stopped.

The magister inclined his head.

“The Archmagister would like to speak with you. Please follow me.”

Doc stared at him for a moment.

Then he sighed.

“More questions.”

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