The academy bells rang early.

Too early.

Most students were still rubbing sleep from their eyes when they stumbled into the mist-drenched courtyard. The air was crisp and quiet, heavy with the weight of something waiting to begin. A dozen professors stood at the edges of the stone plaza, speaking quietly among themselves.

At the center, unmistakable in her scarred leathers and high-collared coat, stood Professor Yveris Kaelthorne.

She didn't shout.

She didn't have to.

"Line up by year and discipline," she said flatly, her voice cutting cleanly through the fog. "Full casters to the left. Healers to the middle. Martial-focused classes to the right."

There was some grumbling, particularly from the students who'd been up late with assignments, dueling practice, or questionable potion trials, but the formation fell into place.

Weylan found himself standing between Mirabelle, who looked suspiciously energized, and Ulmenglanz, who was longingly gazing at the distant east, where the sun almost crested the horizon.

Kaelthorne waited until the shifting and shuffling stopped.

"Effective immediately," she said, "all first- and second-year students will be participating in a multi-day wilderness scenario in the outer Wildewood."

Silence.

Then a quiet "Wait, what?" from someone near the front.

Kaelthorne continued as if reading from a well-rehearsed scroll.

"The exercise will last five days. You'll operate in rotating squads drawn from different schools and disciplines. Tasks will include patrol formation, defensive mana warding, combat response, herbal foraging, and silent movement. Communication will be limited. You will sleep in the field. You will be expected to function under pressure."

Valen Aldrich's smug grin faded slightly.

Mirabelle's eyes narrowed. "That's not the standard curriculum."

Weylan scanned the crowd. Professors weren't the only ones gathered.

A knot of older students had assembled near the faculty archway. All third-years and seniors. Several looked grim, others excited. But most… looked surprised.

One younger professor, a pale elven woman Weylan didn't recognize, blinked and leaned toward Professor Voynich.

"This wasn't on this month's plan, was it?"

Voynich, whose robe was still covered in chalk smudges from last night's alchemy labs, simply shrugged. "It became necessary."

Weylan's gaze flicked back to Kaelthorne.

Her face hadn't moved. Not a twitch of expression. Her arms were folded, boots planted wide, stance military.

"This isn't a game," she said. "This is preparation. Wildeguard doesn't just teach spells and potions. We teach survival. Discipline. Teamwork under magical pressure. The Goblin Kingdom grows more aggressive every year. If you want to leave here as a caster worth summoning to the front, you will learn how to function in the field."

Only silence followed, as the students still tried to comprehend the sudden change in their usual activities.

Then a annoyed voice from the rear. "Gods, you could've sent a scroll at dawn, Kaelthorne."

The crowd turned to see a young woman approaching from behind the senior students, hood pulled low over her eyes, hair braided back in a practical, leaf-dusted style. A belt of pouches, vials, and bone-carved tools hung at her side.

She stomped up beside the professor and crossed her arms. "Logistics are a nightmare. Three dozen tents to enchant, cooking wards to realign, perimeter markers, sanitation spells, not to mention shuffling the entire patrol rota. Again."

Kaelthorne tilted her head just slightly. "You'll manage, Silvea."

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Silvea made a sound halfway between a sigh and a curse.

Kaelthorne turned back to the students.

"If you require anything while in the field, equipment, replacements, restationing, supplies, or if you encounter something you can't identify, you ask her."

Silvea gave a half-hearted wave.

"I'm Silvea Eastramble," she said. "Senior druid, survivalist, and currently the academy's unofficial emergency logistics officer because I made the mistake of passing my outdoor proficiency exams too early."

Someone chuckled.

She narrowed her eyes. "Laugh again and I'll assign you latrine duty."

The laughter died instantly.

"Good," she muttered. "Now, in case you think this is a glorified camping trip, let me be clear: the Wildewood is not safe. It's tamed, but only close to the academy. The outer paths are barely patrolled. The only reason we're able to run this scenario halfway safely is because a full ring of veteran rangers, mages, and warriors is currently surrounding the area."

Silvea pointed to the student ranks. "You will each be assigned a rotating squad. You'll have paired dorms and shared camp kits. If something attacks you, don't try to solo it. Sound the alarm and retreat to the nearest rallying point. We have nine teams patrolling a mile-wide perimeter."

Weylan leaned slightly toward Mirabelle. "She's surprisingly organized."

"Druids," Mirabelle said. "They either sleep in trees or plan like quartermasters."

Silvea was still talking.

"Herb gathering is encouraged. If you know what you're doing. If I catch you bringing back firecap, doomshade, or glowberry vine, I will personally report you to Professor Voynich and ask for live demonstration punishments."

Erik raised a hand. "What's glowberry vine?"

"Don't touch it," Silvea and Mirabelle said at the same time.

Silvea gave them a surprised nod. "Oh. Good. You can lead your squad. Congrats."

Mirabelle blinked surprised. "I didn't volunteer."

"You're upright, coherent, and not rubbing your face into your sleeve like a hungover goat." She pointed at Faya, who was doing exactly that. "So, you're qualified."

Kaelthorne clapped her hands once.

"Squad assignments will be posted within the hour. Report to the north gate by midday. You'll be escorted into the forest and released near Camp Basepoint Alpha. Supplies will be teleported in daily. Questions?"

Faya raised her hand. "Will there be snacks?"

"No," Silvea said, too quickly. "You're going to learn how to forage. There are nuts. If you find them."

Another hand went up. "Are we allowed to keep familiars with us?"

"As long as they don't eat each other," Silvea replied.

Kaelthorne looked to the professors along the edges. "Brief your students. Send anyone with physical limitations or medical exceptions to Professor Voynich for alternative assignments. Everyone else… dismissed."

The courtyard erupted into a blur of movement and excited panic.

Weylan glanced around warily, then leaned toward Aldrich, the student beside him. "That didn't feel like a planned surprise drill."

Aldrich's expression mirrored his own. "No, it didn't. Something like that can't be kept under wraps. Not at an academy. Either only Kaelthorne and a handful of staff were in on it… or something's gone wrong."

"There's one group that doesn't look the least bit surprised," Alina said, drawing their attention. She didn't point, just tilted her head. "They're all fully dressed. No open collars, no messy hair like the rest of us. A few individuals managed it," she glanced at Mirabelle who looked immaculate. "But that's the only group like that. Mixed classes, all from our semester or the one before. Lyriel's the only one I recognize. It's a strange bunch, but they're standing like they belong together."

Weylan's eyes narrowed before he schooled his face into neutrality. "I think they're all Revenants. Lyriel follows Nistrul. Some of them have bizarre outfit choices. See that one with the flimsy hat and the coiled whip at his belt and the one that's dressed like he robbed three people from different continents?"

Aldrich subtly pointed toward an entirely different group while tracking his real targets from the corner of his eye. "The skinny elf carries a rapier. He'll never be able to use that efficiently."

Weylan nodded thoughtfully, while pretending to look at another group. "Common mistake, but only if you've never talked to another person that fights with bladed weapons. No elf would make that mistake. Someone as wimpy like that would use a light fencing weapon or a shortsword."

Alina groaned, put a hand on each of their arms and led them away while whispering. "Kane just joined them. I always had my suspicions about him. He's too strange. I once heard him talk to other students about his class. He claimed he wanted to be 'like the strong-arm alchemist'. The others seemed to know what he was talking about. That's clearly revenant talk."

Aldrich turned away from the group they were discussing. "I wonder what that means for us."

Weylan started leaving. "It means we'll have to look out for what they're planning. Because mark my words, they will have some cunning plan."

* * *

Preparations concluded in a flurry of activity. Students gathered their most important equipment and clothes and returned to their designated meeting points. Weylan almost stumbled over Faya directly outside the dorm, because the priestess tried to balance a half-packed travel pack, a bundle of clothes, her quarterstaff and the verdant hare at once.

Weylan bowed. "Will you give me the honor to let me hold your familiar, while you finish packing?"

Faya just nodded, held the hare up to him one handed and then hurriedly put down her backpack to stuff in her clothes.

<Ah. Weylan. Can you explain what this ruckus is supposed to mean? Is the academy under attack? The crazy priestess blocked my hearing by pressing the hare against… never mind. Care to explain?>

Weylan whispered his answer. "Surprise wilderness expedition exercise."

<As if they'd be sending first semester students into the Wildewood. That isn't even remotely funny.>

"But it's true."

<The crazy priestess is almost finished violating the laws of dimensional physics by cramming a wardrobe worth of clothes into a backpack, so listen: That's not a normal procedure. It must be a cover or decoy for something. Something important, since they wouldn't risk the lives of students otherwise. Be wary. Be very wary.>

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