My declaration, powerful and heartfelt though it may have been, only exacerbates the slew of questions and ensures that Chloe and I will be having a very, very late dinner. And those questions quickly become far broader and encompassing. No longer do the professors seem interested just in Ethertech. Now they want to know about glyphs, about magic, about Skills and how they work. How people get them, how they evolve and combine and mutate and increase in rank and power.

And even worse, the crowd continues to build. Within twenty minutes of my declaration, more people are trickling in. Some professors in suits and ties. Some in casual clothes— students, I believe. And then there’s some folks wearing System-registered gear. I don’t know if they’re adventurers or military or what, but they seem most interested in everything I have to say.

Forty minutes after I announce my intention to conquer the Tower Gauntlet, a man carrying a large and expensive camera and wearing the logo of one of the local news channels steps in. My face turns a shade redder as one of the local reporters follows in after him and they get set up in one of the back corners. I— and Chloe to a lesser extent— are being streamed on the news, and any trace of normalcy or relative anonymity is as dead as a turkey on Thanksgiving.

I’m not sure if they’re here because it’s a really, really slow news day, or if they just want to hear from the strange woman who claims to have slain a wyvern. Considering that Alana probably sold us out on that front, not to mention Chloe and I didn’t exactly hide our identities while assisting with the cleanup… I think it might actually be the second of those, which is somehow worse still.

But I persevere. This is the decision I’ve made, to share my knowledge about the System and provide people with as much information as I know. All so that they can better prepare for the challenges which lie ahead, and to protect themselves against the sort of people who would take advantage of the chaos and upheaval to advance their own selfish ends. They are so… damned shortsighted. Arrogant, really, thinking themselves to be like gods among men when we are all mere minnows staring down the jaws of the System’s great white.

“Seraphina,” the reporter asks, now that what was once a discussion between academics has turned into a makeshift press conference. “A number of people have expressed grievances about the fallout from yesterday’s wyvern attack. Do you have anything you want to say in your defense?”

Wow… What an absolute harebrained question. I barely restrain the contempt I feel and the urge to facepalm at the clean-shaven man’s utter idiocy, but I give him a sincere answer anyway.

“We dealt with a serious and imminent threat to life and property. In the midst of battle, we were more concerned with making sure that the creature was eliminated and that it couldn’t cause more damage, or retreat and bring others of its kind back with it. Once we had defeated the creature, the three of us took what actions we could to mitigate the damage, to the best of our abilities with the limited time and [Ether] still at our disposal.”

“But could you not have–”

“I’ve said my piece on the topic. If you or anyone else has any further questions on that matter, I would be glad to get you in contact with my attorney.” I would hope that Good Samaritan laws would apply when we’re defending the city from draconic invaders, but I’d rather not make an unforced legal error that could hurt my case.

Yet more questions follow. The reporter keeps trying to push an agenda against what he is calling ‘the perils of vigilantism’, arguing that the appropriate thing to have done was to wait for the local police to get involved and attempt to negotiate with a being that was presumed— with no evidence— to be an intelligent being capable of communicating with humans. Not that appeasement and tribute have ever demonstrated themselves as suitable long-term solutions to these sorts of problems. What was the mayor going to do? Hand over a third of the city and declare that we have ‘peace in our time’ or some bullshit?

Most of the other comments and questions are far more interesting. A lot of people are asking questions about [Ether Manipulation] in particular, no doubt the result of the [Ether] manipulation exercises I’ve spoken about previously. Although it’s a little bit different for each person and class.

For me, I gained [Basic Ether Manipulation] as a result of understanding my former [Flash of Insight] Skill. Chloe gained hers by feeling the flow of [Ether] moving through her body when casting a [Heal] spell. People with physical combat classes, like [Swordfighters] and [Martial Artists], also have quasi-magical techniques that convert [Ether] into supernatural effect. Lindsey’s [Arrow of Light] and Alana’s [Valkyrie’s Flight] Skills both fall into this category.

It’s here that I learn a little bit more about noncombatant classes— or professional classes, as they are called by many of those who hold them. As it turns out, there are ways for people with these classes to gain levels that don’t require them to engage in actual combat. Instead of focusing their willpower and growing stronger in trials by combat, people with professional classes improve themselves and their Skills through the stress of performing their jobs under tight deadlines.

The most notable example of this, as was pointed out to me by another audience member, was the task of restoring the nation’s electrical grid following the System’s myriad world modifications. A number of line technicians and their supporting staff gained a lot of levels early on as a result. However, the downside is that the level curve seems even more steep for professional classes than it is for combat classes. There are plenty of line technicians who’ve reached levels 12 to 15. Very few have reached level 20, and most of those needed some combat Experience to close the gap. And the same, it seems, is true of other classes as well.

I am concerned about what that means for society going forward. Will we see more people abandon their careers to become adventurers? Or will we see people going on longer-term sabbaticals to gain levels? Or, perhaps, there will be people content to do without, being lower in levels and perhaps future opportunities, all to avail themselves of a steady, if perhaps less lucrative, career?

And that’s just the tip of the economic changes we’ll have to consider. What could we build now that we have glyphs and dragon scales and… well, everything else that we have access to, and will be able to access soon? My arm, my wings, my armor. The possibilities are nigh endless.

Eventually— and not a moment too soon— everyone notices that I’m mentally too exhausted to continue. Public speaking has never been my forte, and no amount of adrenaline and subject-matter passion is enough to keep me going for a literal six hours. That, and the lack of food; I’ve had a couple of bottles of water and a single trip to the restroom, but it’s late and I’ve not had a bite since our early lunch.

Dr. O’Neal steps onto the stage and offers me a handshake, which I gratefully accept.

“Thank you, everyone,” he says. “On behalf of the College of Engineering and Natural Sciences and all the departments within, I want to thank everyone here for attending Dr. Mortensen’s lecture today on Ethertech, glyphs, and the future of magic and society.”

There he goes with the Doctor honorific again. I don’t even hate it, though I’d hardly say I’m worthy of the title. I do, somewhere in the back of my mind, worry that I’m being buttered up for some request that still has yet to be revealed. Or maybe this is just a way of boosting my prestige, and by extension, that of himself and the college.

“I hope that everyone enjoyed the lively discussion. And I want to apologize for the lack of proper refreshments and other amenities for this lecture due to the extremely short notice on everyone’s part.”

Although this could be directed toward me, he doesn’t show any animosity in his eyes. I think he’s admitting, in the brief moment our eyes meet, that he’s admitting a bit of fault for throwing me to the wolves without more than a few moments to prepare myself. In that regard, however, it’s not so different from combat. Adjusting to the flow of the battle, making split-second decisions, trying to navigate the mental battle. Just much, much longer in duration.

I wave to the crowd. “And thank you for having me,” I say. “The path ahead of us is arduous, filled with many tribulations great and small. But I do genuinely believe that humanity can rise to the challenge and survive, just as we have every previous challenge leading up to this point.”

The crowd slowly— too slowly— disperses. Many out in the hallways are continuing various conversations. Most are about my lecture, but plenty of others are about general plans and smalltalk. I have to imagine that during the summer session, many of the faculty aren’t in regular correspondence with one another, and this was an opportunity to catch up with one another. Not unlike meeting up with a group of fellow students randomly over the summer, I suppose.

As the crowd dies down, I finally ask the question that’s been bothering me from the start. “Dr. O’Neal, may I ask why you were addressing me as ‘Doctor’ earlier? By all rights, I’m a high school dropout who didn’t finish her last two months of school so I could go adventuring. Hell, my offer of attendance to come here in the fall was revoked; I have the e-mail and everything!”

Dr. O’Neal starts laughing. “It wouldn’t make much sense for you to attend as an undergraduate unless you were interested in learning pre-System engineering. And, to be quite frank, with your talents and expertise in this burgeoning field, I think an undergraduate course of study would be wasted on you.”

I realize that he didn’t actually answer the question about referring to me as ‘doctor’. Then again, it might just be for the egos of everyone here. Imagine a bunch of university professors admitting to themselves that they’re coming to learn Ethertech Engineering and Spellcrafting from a high school dropout!

“So, what happens now?” I ask.

“Well, that’s ultimately your decision to make. To the best of my knowledge, all of my colleagues are thoroughly impressed with the work that you’ve done and the conviction you have shown in continuing to advance this new and exciting field. It will take a few months to work through the finer details, but with the continuing potential of Ethertech, I see no reason why our institution and many others won’t be developing their own departments to advance the field. I can think of none more suited for such a position than you, Seraphina.”

“And what would that entail in your mind? I don’t know if I’m qualified to teach and I don’t want to sit in an office grading papers all day in either case.”

As I’m talking with the professor and most of the people have cleared out, Chloe steps onto the small stage and takes my mechanical hand in hers.

“Well, we would ask you to lecture students and faculty members from time to time, and you would be expected to publish regularly. Considering your advancements in the field already, and your intention to continue doing so, I’m sure there would be no shortage of faculty members willing to do most of the actual writing and handle the publication process on your behalf in exchange for a co-authorship.”

“The offer seems a little too good. So I have to ask, why make such an offer, and more importantly, what’s the catch? I’m sure I’m not the only person with a class and Skills dedicated to [Glyphcasting] and Ethertech creation.”

“There are some people, yes. However, there are two problems we’ve tended to run into. First, there’s not a lot of people interested in moving to this part of the country. Turns out most academics prefer to live in the midwest or on either coast. And secondly, we can’t hope to pay as well as the private sector. But… your statements have suggested that you might not be dissuaded by that fact.”

In other words, I’m being taken advantage of due to my scruples on the matter of not working for Death, Inc. Which, fair enough.

“If it’s alright with you, I don’t want to make a decision about all this, right now, on the spot.”

“Of course, of course. And I want to thank you and apologize about all of this being sprung on you on… basically no notice. There were simply too many people who were interested in hearing from you.”

“I figured it was something like that,” I say. “Well, it was nice meeting you, but I think dinner awaits us,”

“Goodbye, Dr. O’Neal,” Chloe says, offering her hand. “It was nice to meet you as well.”

“And you too, Miss Jacobs.” The professor returns Chloe’s handshake. “I hope to hear back from both of you soon.”