Myth and I finally reached our professor's office with minutes to spare. There we stood, covered head to toe in various kinds of slime, muck, and not an insignificant bit of gore, stinking to the high heavens of swamp, sweat, and the products of excessive violence. No doubt a scent she was familiar with, but Professor Helena Andritch looked down at us with disdain.

  Which was a neat trick for a dwarf, I mused, but shook the thought from my head. Cracking a smile right now would have been just the excuse she needed to tear into us with a lecture.

  Professor Andritch was a stocky, stern woman, well kept blonde braids in an ornate pattern on her head, adorned with all manner of decorative beads and charms. If I remembered what I had studied about dwarves during one of the dreadfully boring lessons my parents tried to drill into my head about diplomacy, this meant she had been married, had children, and if I wasn't wrong, had lost their partner in battle. I had always wanted to ask, but that definitely wasn't a question you broached.

  Especially not with a teacher who seemed perpetually in a state of I'm not mad, just disappointed.' Luckily, this seemed to never be directly aimed at me, but at everyone she ever spoke to. She knew her stuff, though. From her credentials, she had been teaching Dungeoneering for nearly 50 years, and had been a full-fledged Adventurer and Dungeoneer for over twice that length.

  Even I had to begrudgingly admit she earned the right to her attitude. Even if I still hated it.

  She glared at us a moment longer, opened our bag, and examined the cuttings of the dungeon core for a moment, pulling out a jeweler's glass and looking at them closely.

  We simply stood there in an awkward silence, dripping onto her floor, our smell no doubt becoming increasingly offensive as the seconds ticked on.

  She grunted suddenly and put the glass away, and swept the cuttings into a tray with the cuttings from our fellow students' assignments. She then looked at us, hands linked together as she looked at us.

  "You two pass. The cuttings aren't the best work I've ever seen, but acceptable for first years. You two certainly cut it close, but I won't lie, I expected as much from you two. Any thoughts or concerns about your first dungeon foray?" Her gravely voice and tone made it clear this was still part of the assignment.

  "The maps were wrong." I blurted out without thinking. "How could we be expected to get a dungeon done quickly with maps being incorrect?!"

  "And why did you accept them at face value?" She responded evenly. "Maps can be wrong. Some dungeons aren't pruned and reassessed as others, especially out in the hinterlands. Maybe the maps weren't legit copies, and were cheap forgeries made by unscrupulous dungeoneers. It is naive at best to accept a map at face value. I believe we covered this. I believe it was between your first and second mid-lecture nap."

  I winced. I did have a bad habit of nodding off during lectures. As good a teacher as she was, I found myself falling asleep while she spoke, especially if it was part of the subject I found dull. I didn't care much about maps and the intricacies of that part of the business.

  Her judgment may have been accurate, but it still stung my pride more than a little.

  Giving Myth a sideways glance, I noticed she was rather pointedly not making eye contact with me or the professor. Looks like I wasn't the only one napping that day.

  "And you, Miss Draevena? Any thoughts about your trip?" She turned her head to Myth, who seemed to shrink into herself. Whatever it was she was smoking before we entered the dungeon must have long worn off.

  She was a different person when her system wasn't bolstered by that mixture of herbs and whatever. Any confidence she had, as little as it was, completely disappeared, and she almost always seemed on the edge of a panic attack. The rough day today didn't help any.

  I loudly cleared my throat.

  "Professor, as you can tell from the large puddle of gunk we have been tracking on your lovely floor, we've had quite a day, and I think we should pack it in. Could we kindly save the dressing down for later?" I had seen where this was going, and I wasn't going to put up with it, for Myth's sake if not my own.

  I was used to being yelled at for some form of perceived incompetence for most of my life, some justified, most not. Myth was not. She was a socially awkward mage from a backwater forest who needed befuddling smoke to even make it through a day.

  Maybe Myth wasn't meant for life as a dungeoneer, but I wasn't going to let anyone make that decision for her.

  Professor Andritch was what my elder sister would have called a 'tough love' sort of teacher, and not every student took well to that. I knew that all too well. All tough love gave me was resentment, a fear of failure, and a decent helping of disrespect towards authority.

  From what I knew of Myth, it would likely cause her to retreat even deeper into her shell, and no doubt increase her dependence on her crutches, so to speak.

  I was also very tired and in no mood to deal with Andritch's lectures today, so my coming to Myth's emotional rescue was a bit self-serving.

  "Very well, Misses Marchest and Draevena. You have both passed, and are dismissed. Rest up, get something nutritious to eat, not whatever things you students call food these days. A dungeoneer can't do their job properly on an empty stomach and no sleep. If they do, they die and take too many with them." Her stern face softened with what looked like sadness, before hardening again. "Go on! Get out of here! The trap part buyers won't be open all day."

  She smirked slyly at that last quip as Myth and I turned to leave. As we closed the door behind us, I heard a sniffle. Oh gods, I knew this was going to happen and I really, really, had wanted to avoid it.

  I groaned internally and reached out and hugged Myth. I didn't particularly like Myth all that much, but there was just something about the poor addled thing that triggered some kind of protective instinct in me.

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  The protective instinct was somewhat smothered by the squishy, swampy dampness that made up our respective outfits.

  "C'mon, Myth. Let's get cleaned up, we can go sell our treasures and have a little feast! We can invite Cori and Smitty." I said, mentioning our other roommates.

  "We can?" She said in a small voice.

  "Of course! They probably finished their assignments too, just fine, so we can pool our money and have a little celebration! We deserve it!" I said enthusiastically. It felt like comforting a child sometimes, but I could see promise in Myth, despite all the things about her that irritated the hells out of me, so I thought of it as an investment.

  Roommates tended to form parties in school, and often that continued into the post-graduation world. Room assignments were never made with that in mind, and more often than not, it worked out this way out of sheer convenience. You and your roommates were used to being together in cramped spaces, and that summed up most of life as a dungeoneer or adventurer.

  If you all had skill sets that worked well together that was all for the best. Which my roommates had in spades. If I could do anything to nurture these skills along with my own, it was less a matter of making friends, and more an investment in future wealth and survival.

  I was determined to make the most of Dungeon School and make it rich as a dungeoneer when all this was said and done. I would show my stupid, humorless family that I could get rich all on my own and didn't need them or their titles to succeed.

  Spite was the best motivator in my experience.

  I released Myth from the hug, and we made our way to the cleaning facilities.

  -

  Cleaning facilities were a critical part of adventuring life. They were a combination of a laundry, bathhouse, smithy, and artificer shop. Part of our tuition covered use of the facility, and I cringed to think how much it was going to cost to get access to one when we were out on our own.

  In here we could give our armor and other gear to staff who would clean everything and fix any damage we had sustained to our weapons and armor, fix any gadgets we might have, and assess any things we claimed as our spoils from the dungeons, buy anything good, all while we washed ourselves off and relaxed in a nice bath to loosen up our muscles and ease the tension of day of dangerous exploration and battle.

  It was the ultimate level of convenience for my chosen career. I was sad to hear that these didn't exist everywhere outside large cities, and you had to rely on individual merchants for that sort of thing. Something to keep in mind when I went job shopping after graduation.

  Despite Dungeon School having the reputation of being the place where those who couldn't make it into the Magical Academy or the Knightly Orders, it had its perks. You worked hard, you relaxed hard.

  Those thoughts played through my mind as I sank into the bathtub and felt all the tension and stress of the day evaporate from my body. Myth had joined me in a tub next to me, and we sat in blissful silence and soaked.

  The steam smelled delightful and carried the scent of a mixture of all kinds of healing herbs, both terrestrial and magical. Myth had explained it all to me once, but a lot of it rolled right off my brain, but from what I understood, it not only helped with stress and muscle fatigue, but it helped leech out any dungeon mana we had absorbed, as encouraged the natural replenishment of proper mana when we went to sleep.

  I didn't care about the technical side of it. It felt heavenly and one of life's small pleasures that made everything worth it.

  "Thank you for having my back there, Alta." Myth said suddenly. I opened one eye to look at her.

  "No problem. I don't tolerate anyone talking down to a colleague like that." I answered firmly.

  "I still do appreciate it. I know you don't think much of me, what with how I can barely hold it together without my smokes. I could have killed us down there. My brain just turned off, and I started making that fireball! That's the number one rookie mistake! No fireballs in corridors!" She looked like she was going to tear up again.

  "Don't worry about it! It was your first dungeon, your first real monsters. I'd be surprised if you didn't freak out. I'm just sorry I punched you in the face. How is your face by the way?" I asked, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

  "You definitely broke it, but I used a healing spell right away, so it set nicely. I think it'll be sore for a few days anyway. A little reminder to keep my head together, I guess." She giggled. That was a good sign.

  It was easy to let your mistakes weigh on you. I let it happen to myself all too often. Being a daughter of the Marchesi family came with certain expectations, and if you didn't live up to them, you were sure to be told about it, in excruciating detail. It sticks with you, right in your guts, feeding that spite and resentment till you decide to make some unfortunate choices. Choices that lead you to Dungeon School.

  I shook the bad thoughts. Enough of that, me.

  "You want to really thank me, we should do a few simulation delves before our next real one. We'll get you more confident in no time! Seriously, though, they threw as at a real one awfully quickly if you ask me." I griped, sinking into the bath a bit deeper. The sad truth of all of this was that repetition was the best way to get better.

  It was the time commitment that was the problem. Most folks who were in Dungeon School had side jobs. Delves, studying, physical training, magical training, with part-time work on top of it. You either made it or you broke, either at the hands of the dungeons or exhaustion. Exhaustion claimed more than any dungeon ever could.

  Myth scowled, an unusual expression on her face. I could count on one hand the number of times I had seen her angry.

  "That is true. We've only done what, three simulation delves, and about a month of theory? What are they thinking?" She threw up her hands in frustration, splashing me with some of the water from her tub.

  "Probably want to get us to the point we can start interning at dungeoneer companies quickly. They likely get a cut of our pay, while working newbies to the bone and calling it 'a learning experience.' Greedy bastards, the lot of them." I playfully splashed her back.

  Dungeon school wasn't the only place that did that sort of thing. Every academy, order, guild, whatever did the same sort of thing. It still rankled me, but it was tradition, and traditions were hard to break on that level.

  An attendant came and informed us that our equipment and payment for our salvaged trap parts and crypt-stone were ready. We both got out of our baths, rinsed off in cold water to shake off any drowsy after effects of the bath elixirs.

  I struggled with drying my hair a bit, as I just couldn't bring myself to cut it short like many of my fellow students. It was a beautiful,l bright red and long enough to reach my knees. I usually wore it in a high ponytail and I adored how it looked, a bit a vanity I clung to. Thedownsidet was it was hard to dry properly. Myth thankfully helped me after she got dressed, and I followed suit quickly.

  We picked up our stuff at a counter, all of it cleaned and polished, all the scratches and dings removed. They looked new, despite both being budget items we picked up in town. Most importantly, not even a slight hint of all the things we had gotten soaked in. An attendant had us sign for everything and handed us a little bag of coins, which felt much heavier than I had expected.

  I couldn't help but open the bag of coins right then and there. My face positively lit up when I saw how much there was. Not rich by any imagination, compared to my old life, but to an academy student, we were practically rolling in it. Myth's expression matched mine.

  "Booze time!" We said in unison, full of delight! Myth dashed over to the public sending stone, a crystalline contraption in a private corner of the common room of the facility, and I could hear her giving news and directions to our other roommates Cori and Smitty. I couldn't hear the words, but I could hear their shared joy too.

  Looks like we were in for a party tonight!