My first class was at 8:00 AM.
***
I barely slept the night before. I was thinking of my big objective, the reason I decided to come here in the first place.
Ever since the age of eight, my mind and heart had always been focused on the sad, sad story of the Chemkan Honeybees. Since ancient times, they had lived in the super-hives nestled in the rolling hills of the large, gentle valley in the land straddling the border between Chemko and Zyrtin. The Bees made very good honey. In fact, the honey made was popular in global trade up until about 250 years ago. But most importantly, the Bees were a crucial pollinator for the regional ecosystem. The local indigenous nomads knew this, and so dedicated their lives to protecting the Bees and their super-hives.
Initially, the super-hives, and the indigenous who protected them, were all given protection and autonomy by the ancient Chemkan Republic. Change began in 1108, though, when the Chemkan Republic collapsed. Between that year and the year 1193, the former Chemkan lands had boundaries set by the Remikran Union to keep peace in the region, as well as to protect what came to be called the Chemkan Honeybee Community.
In 1193, the nation of Combria arrived and claimed federal jurisdiction over present-day Zyrtin while present-day Chemko remained under mutual jurisdiction of the multiple indigenous nations as brokered by the Remikran Union. Both lands continued to offer protection toward the Chemkan Bee Community. And such protection would continue when the Retunian Republic gained jurisdiction over Zyrtin.
Such protections were first put in jeopardy when, after the invasion and defeat of the Vandalians in 1259, Retunian settlers in the Zyrtin-Chemko region began noting the abundance of such natural resources as precious metals and fertile soil; this, coupled with the Retunian drive to establish a "free market" everywhere it expanded, created an unstoppable political agenda. Moreover, Retunians moving here in droves began complaining about the Bees while voicing racism against the indigenous peoples. Things came to a head between 1263 and 1264 when, led by Edward Jackson, incumbent Prime Minister at the time, the Diplomatic Party made big gains in the gubernatorial elections upon a wave of pro-capitalist business development. The other two parties, the Foundation and Labor Parties, sided with the indigenous populations against this agenda. Regardless, after the new Council began in January 1264, this aggressive agenda was proposed as official legislation, nested as clauses in a measure to name officially the territories of Zyrtin and Chemko as provinces. Such a measure would force the indigenous communities to leave their homelands. The measure would also authorize the "clearing out" of the super-hives, as well as "total extermination" of the Honeybees, in order to clear the way for said business development.
And this would be "free-for-all development" where the federal government would just give the land away, not sell it; and, in addition, they would charge the businesses no taxes for ten years.
Both the Labor and Foundation Parties opposed the measure as debates ensued. However, Jackson gave a great deal of arm-twisting during this time and, eventually, the Foundation and Diplomatic Parties would form a coalition. Thus, the measure passed
The indigenous and their allies stood their ground, threatening forceful resistance if the developers attempted to evict them. But, noting that some of these communities were armed with spellfire "devices of war," Jackson submitted an international motion to Congress of Circlaria, deeming these indigenous groups "domestic terrorists." The Congress granted Jackson's statement in full and gave him complete justification to deploy the Retunian Armed Forces. This, Jackson invoked on 13 April 1264, during which firebombs were used to destroy the super-hives, chemicals were used to kill the remaining Honeybees, and hundreds of thousands of indigenous people were imprisoned and interred without due process. Meanwhile, away from the front line, writers allied to the Honeybee Community were coerced by the threat of lawsuits, or even criminal prosecution on such charges as "incitement of terrorism," to refrain from publishing articles and columns discussing such events openly, let alone speaking out against them. On 21 April, Jackson made a brief announcement on the situation in Zyrtin and Chemko, declaring the "all inhabitants on trespassed lands have peacefully relocated."
In 1271, official news platforms announced that the Chemkan Honeybee species was declared extinct. Accordingly, it had been for some time, but bureaucracy and observation debates had apparently delayed conclusions on this from being drawn for awhile. After this announcement, the whole issue surrounding Zyrtin and Chemko had been swept into the background. Meanwhile, over the decades that followed, the absence of the honeybee pollinators, combined with the destructive landscape development initiatives, caused the rolling green valleys to become blighted as the areas of lush forest and meadows turned to semi-arid grassland. Today, as over the distant past, an air current from the South Circlarian Ocean sends storms and rains over the spring and summer; but with topsoil in the region all but depleted since 1264, the water simply runs off the hills and down into the valley, frequently causing flooding.
However, though the official sources say the Chemkan Honeybee is extinct, I recently came across a few independent OCEA sources who say that they have the species in keeping. Of course, everything is questionable on OCEA. But there are enough sources making this claim that give me a hope, even if that hope is small. Regardless, that is why I am here: to somehow build a garden to allow the bees to thrive, if they are left, then to craft my knowledge from Cabotton University to, hopefully, restore them to their full pre-1264 population in the Chemko-Zyrtin region.
***
So class started at 8:00 AM this morning; but despite the early start, I was wide awake. The weather was clear, warm, and peaceful as I followed the throngs of students into the Greenhouse Building. All the professors' offices were on the ground floor as well as the basement, here. Just before the stairwell, I walked by the office door adorned with the name of my instructor: Dr. Harlow Jaynes, who I had yet to meet. Upon the next level stood the lab section with the movable walls as well as one balcony level within. And the third level was the Greenhouse Chamber, which took up the entirety of the top-most level and was covered by a vast a vaulted and curved glass ceiling. The floor, itself, was composed of spellmatter-generated terrain, variable in nature and crossed by a network of walkways as well as waterways and ponds. And in between these stood multiple lecture areas of varying nature and setup.
My first class, General Seminar in Horticulture, was out on a small roof-covered pier extending into a pond. Here, we would meet for two hours, between 8:00 and 10:00 AM on Mondays and Wednesdays. The class was a core class for all in my major regardless of year and status, intended to facilitate social networking through the department as well as team-building on big projects.
And at the front podium of this pavilion stood Dr. Jaynes, a relatively tall man in his mid-to-late sixties with dark gray hair and spectacles for glasses. Beside him on a table sat a stack of papers, the syllabus, which he gestured for me, and every other student, to take. Beside that was a stack of small silver boxes, one of which I was motioned to take as well. Then I found a seat near the front of the class.
About two or three minutes after the start of the hour, Dr. Jaynes paced casually to a spot on the floor in front of the podium. I remembered hearing in days past about how he, unlike the other instructors, rarely stood behind the podium, and in doing this, he intended to create a more inclusive approach to lectures. "I gather that everyone scheduled to be here is here now at this time?" he began in a quiet but vibrantly warm voice. "Very good. Let's begin.
"I've been saying this every year at the start of the year. And I will say it today as well. It does not matter if you eat solely plants or meat, or a combination of both. It does not matter which walk of life from which you came, which faith you follow if any, or your family life, or your course of study, or ultimately your career path forward. You need food to survive. Without food, you have no life, no family, no community, no society! And aside from water, plants are essential to any source of food. With this as an inevitability, there is no day that passes where it is not important for a society to have a Plan B, a seed vault that is, like the ones the some in this room taking history courses have discussed or are currently discussing. Hence, the big project that starts..." He walked over to my desk and picked up my silver box. "...with this!" He returned my box to my desk again and continued. "Some of you, third year students, fourth year students, fifth year students, are already well along with your projects. Some of you are almost done, and some of you, who are not Horticulture Majors, are here to fulfill your general education observation requirements. For those of you freshmen, however, whom I've asked to take one of these silver boxes...this box is the beginning of the biggest assignment that you will get from any class or any school." Dr. Jaynes paced toward his spot in front of the podium. "No worries, however. It's not due till the time of your graduation. And during this time, you will learn all you need to learn. You will have all the tools you need at your disposal, to make completion of this massive project your biggest success story. In the end, you will have worked hard, yet it will have been the most rewarding for you.
"In the meantime, all I ask is that you keep your box safe. It's precious cargo for you. You will have this box to draw upon your entire time at this University. How you keep it safe is up to you, but you do have myself, my assistants, and your fellow scholars to count on for questions or concerns you may have." Dr. Jaynes paced to the table and picked up a copy of the syllabus on top of the now-depleted stack. "And now onto this..."
I reached over to pick up my copy, which happened to be sitting at the front of my desk. However, in doing so, my hand accidentally bumped the silver box and knocked it off, where it fell three feet and landed on the concrete floor in front of me. Its seeds, soil samples, and other contents spilled out. I felt my face go red and was unable to say anything.
"Oh...no need," Dr. Jaynes told a man who had come up to me and began scooping up the contents. I realized after a second glance that it was Bernard. "No need. I'll take care of it." Dr. Jaynes picked up another box from the table and handed it to me. "It's quite fine, dear. Believe me, I'm even worse when it comes to these sort of things." He paced back to his spot in front of the podium. "That being said, I would like to remind the seminar again. It is best to exercise caution when handling these Origin Boxes, which those of you freshmen will find in the syllabus are how these are named. Replacements are always available but as time goes on, factoring in replacements needed will inevitably get trickier and trickier." He looked back at me. "Again, you have nothing to worry about, but do exercise caution in the future."
Dr. Jaynes moved on to the syllabus details. Basically, the curriculum here would be discussion-based, where a question would be posed for us to research and discuss in order to form a response come the next lecture. Dr. Jaynes would then use the class results from this to form the next question. There would be no tests or formal evaluations, only holistic ones given. Aside from this discussion chain would be given time for students to give presentations on project progress to be evaluated constructively by the class as a whole. And this, as well as steps taken in the project, all would need to be approved by Dr. Jaynes.
"That being said," finished Dr Jaynes at around 9:00 AM. "Let us open the semester discussion series with the following question." He proceeded to behind the podium and wrote the question on the chalkboard. Then he turned to us and said it aloud. "What is, arguably, the best approach to attracting pollinators and allowing them to thrive?"
It was an open-ended question, obviously. But more importantly, it touched almost precisely on the subject upon which I dwelt. Whether or not this was the result of someone who knew me pulling ropes here, I felt that I had definitely come to the right place. And despite what happened earlier with my clumsiness and his response, I felt an instant mutual connection with Dr. Jaynes.
We divided into groups, of which one consisted of myself and Bernard. Another woman, introducing herself as Maggie Terreth, was the third person. I remembered hearing her name before, but could not remember where and from whom at the moment. Nevertheless, she immediately recognized me by the apparent similarities I bore to my brother.
Maggie is eight years older than me, having started in 1348. She was now a post-grad World Literature Major but was here to fulfill one of her contextual research requirements. And here, I finally got to learn more about my roommate, Bernard, who was also a Literature Major; he was only one year younger than Maggie but did not start until the year 1353 owing to him working for awhile. We attempted to have a discussions on Dr. Jayne's assignment but we mostly talked with each other, asking each other about our backgrounds. Of note, I learned that Maggie has also been a passionate member of the Third Level Society, having been convinced by Bernard to join.
However, with Dr. Jayne's question, I began to clarify my plan concerning the Chemkan Honeybees. As I wrote things down, I determined my first objective to be having my completed plan approved by Dr. Jaynes. Then I would secure a granular plane, plant the first seeds out of the Origin Box, introduce other favorable plants, craft the ecosystem within my plane to ideal standards, obtain and introduce the Honeybees, reach out and establish a common network with the other beekeepers, secure lands in the Chemko-Zyrtin region, re-plant and craft the landscape to mirror that in the granular plane, re-introduce the Honeybees here, monitor and supervise them until their population reaches pre-1264 levels, and then finally to establish a network to maintain this population.
Ambitious? Of course. Then again, what would I be if not ambitious?
Dr. Jaynes' class was, by far, my favorite. The other classes, on the other hand, were nothing out of the ordinary. In the evening, I had, as part of my general education requirements, a class in Music Literature Overviews, located in the Arts Building.
***
This class was done by 6:30 PM that evening, meaning that I had an hour to kill before meeting up with Otto. Nonetheless, I decided to explore the rest of the Arts Building out of sheer curiosity and intuition. I started with the wings where there stood the recital hall; and out of the door of the larger one, I heard organ music playing. Peering in, I saw perched on the large bench in front of the vast arrangement of holes and pipes the petite figure of Meghan Wen. I approached her and sat in a front row seat. After a few moments, she appeared to finish what she was practicing, and turned slowly to meet my gaze.
"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything," I said.
"Not at all," said Meghan, politely shaking her head. "In fact, I'm due for a little break. Would you care to join me at the Slack?"
"I would, but I am due to meet Otto Warren at around 7:30. He'll be showing me the ropes in the Third Level Society."
"That's perfectly fine. Do you have an avatar already made yet, though?"
"No," I said, a little surprised. "I didn't know you had to make one first."
"You're not required to do so. Though I will say that it's best to have an avatar ready to go before you join. I could show you how to build one if you wish."
"I'll see if I can talk Otto into re-scheduling."
"I'm sure he will understand," said Meghan as she got off the bench and made her way toward me. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her comm tab. "Would you like to see mine?"
"Sure! Why not?"
"I've been building on it since I started here last year..." she began as she showed me her avatar: a figure very much like the real-life Meghan Wen except for the name, which Meghan gave as Mewe, pronounced "may-vay." Looking at her stats, I saw that she had become quite powerful.
"So," continued Meghan. "Go ahead and find Otto; see if he can re-schedule. He may be in the Practice Wings which can be hard to find but I know his usual hiding spot is in the Eastern part. Then meet me at the entrance."
"See you then," I replied. And with that, I proceeded up to the Practice Wing level. Otto was going down the staircase, and so there we met.
"Are you ready?" he said to me.
"So...I know we agreed to meet now," I began. "But I just got done meeting with Meghan Wen. And she was thinking of having me build up my character first."
"Oh wow," replied Otto, laughing slightly. "You mean you didn't build your character yet? Why yes of course. You need to do that! And then if you still want, I can get you to join after you're ready."
"Sounds like a plan."
"And for the record, my avatar is a woman named Korobe. And at the moment, she is a leader of the Independent Pirates Collective on the original Planet Arturia, if that's your thing."
"I'll think about it."
***
Up to this point, I thought that Megan Wen lived in, perhaps, Fleming House. But the truth was that she lived at 124 West Mason Street, which belongs to her great-grandmother, Elisabeth.
I knew about 124 West Mason Street long before I started school. It had been a marked heritage site for the past 100 years, from what I remember, for it served as the meeting place of the first University Council, and was the place where began the famous story of the late Ivella Ogden. The first level of the house was a shared area between the University and the family owning the residence, while the upper levels were the private quarters for said family: in this case, Meghan and her great-grandmother, the latter of whom has been in need of care in recent years.
Meghan introduced me to her great-grandmother, a very sweet and even more petite individual. Afterward, Meghan led me into her bedroom where there stood a dymensional plane console for avatar creation. My heart raced a little, admittedly, at the thought of her trusting me to see into the personal side of her life. Over the next hour, we built up my avatar. While we did this, we talked about her background in music studies and my background in horticulture studies as well as my quest to save the Chemkan Honeybees.
"I honestly cannot make up my mind," I said after awhile. We were at the point in avatar creation where my desired avatar role was to be chosen. I decided to have my avatar be one of no gender and assigned the cleverly-designed name: Amixam. Of all the times I thought of my avatar to create over the years though, I never could make up my mind on the role said avatar would play.
"You seem to me the intelligent type," said Meghan, putting her hand on my shoulder. "I usually don't recommend this to beginners but will do for you. I think that Amixam should be a shape-shifter. Basically, that means you're flexible for any quest, be it in the Steam World, or the Sea Pirating World, or the Space Realm. That's because all your weapons and shields would be able to be changed to fit the type of quest because they are all made of spellmatter."
"I actually never heard of that before," I said, honestly. "Isn't that cheating though?"
"So it would seem to an outsider, until you consider that advanced weaponry requires a lot of skill to master. Also, you need a lot of Arturian Credits to pay for training and pre-made scripts." Meghan navigated her dymensional plane console to what appeared to be a library of scripts and transferred a copy of a list to Amixam. "I believe this will get you started, though." She looked over to me. "Do you have your comm tab handy?"
I pulled out my comm tab and went to hand it to her.
"No need," continued Meghan. "I just need your tab ID." When I gave that to her, she uploaded my avatar, scripts and all, to my comm tab. "And you can plug that into the Third Level system whenever you are ready to do so. In fact, I bet you can catch Otto tonight!"
"Did you want to come with me?"
"I would love to, absolutely," said Meghan with a warm smile. "Unfortunately, I have music scores to study for tomorrow. But I will definitely keep you in mind for the future. Go ahead to Otto though. He will most definitely help you."
***
Shortly before I arrived, I sent an OCEA message to Otto, who replied that his female avatar, Korobe, would be looking for mine. I filled out the appropriate forms and signed the appropriate promises, becoming a Member of the Third Level Society as of 8:37 PM, and then immersed myself into the Arturian Realm.
My avatar, Amixam, spawned at a location on the North Shore along the Crescan Coast, where they were expected to report to Base Primary, the headquarters of the Independent Pirates Collective. This Base turned out to be a high-tech fortress, the entrance of which consisted of a series of checkpoints. At the first, I presented to the security guards my message from Korobe, which Otto said would be considered a pass. Before long, I was in front of Korobe, herself.
"Your stats are pretty impressive for a freshman," Korobe admitted after looking looking over Amixam's profile. "That said, you're going to be placed in the starter position since our situations can get difficult. Now let me pull up our current assignment:
"So you will be traveling on Boat 32 with myself. You will be a General Defender Unit. That means you will spend most of your time on the boat. In this case, you will be with five others, aside from myself. Our objective is to transport copper from here to Pier 314 in Antemaersa. A very close crossing and low-risk, of course, because of the patrols. That said, we do have a rival group named the Gennings who are...shall we say...envious of our gains. They have been intercepting, or attempting to intercept, our shipments. So that is why we always defend even our civil transports.
"Also to note, our cargo is actually stolen property. So the patrols will not help, to say the least; in fact, the Gennings are vigilante allies to the authorities. So we will also need to ensure that nothing happens as might to grab their attention. And when all is said and done, you will receive a sixth of the fifteen percent share that the crew gets. I know that sounds small, but the copper is worth quite a lot, so it will expand your financial accounts handsomely. Any questions?"
"Not that I can think of," I said. This was a new experience for me. So I knew that I would have plenty of questions to come up. But for the moment, I drew a blank.
"Very well. Let's board up."
Boat 32 was a large cargo ship, armed with quite a bit of high-tech gadgetry. Most things on board were automated, hence why there were only seven of us required altogether. The crossing from Base Primary toward Antemaersa was, quite frankly, the most uneventful experience. In fact, I began to wonder if my expectations of the Third Level Society were far enough removed from the actual circumstances to the point that I would need to reconsider whether or not I was willing to commit to it. After all, I had my heavy workload of horticulture studies to worry about.
It was after we unloaded the copper to the shady recipient in the spirit-run city of Antemaersa that it happened. We were crossing back when we had our confrontation with the Gennings. All we saw was a series of waves in the water, as if a large fish were swimming toward us. "Fire torpedo!" called Korobe over the intercom.
It did not seem that a full observation was made to determine if they were the enemy or not. Before I could protest, though, the torpedo was fired and the target hit. It surfaced, showing its vast structure. Atop the deck of this thing emerged a group of dark figures who began firing at us.
"Shots fired!" called several people over the intercom. Luckily, I had my spell discharge script armed and ready to go. I fired that, which downed eight of the eleven Gennings fighters. However, the vessel launched a torpedo of its own, which struck Boat 32 and caused it to break in half.
In that moment, I cast a shield spell, which created a spellmatter shield that could be used as a raft. Only Korobe and myself survived the ordeal. So we both jumped on and proceeded back to Base Primary off a propellant spell that I cast. After we arrived to the Base, the other avatars re-spawned, collecting their after-payments per their policy. But my avatar was given quite a bit of recognition for their heroic acts.
***
Aledon asked me just now how my day was. I relayed everything to him about classes and questing, but nothing yet about Meghan Wen. The latter is early in development and involves strong emotions, at least on my end. I don't want any misunderstandings.