In the next class, Alder found himself in a survival skills workshop — a crucial course for all students at Ironwood Academy. As he entered the room, he noticed various tools and equipment laid out on tables: ropes, compasses, first aid kits, and even a small mock campfire ring. The instructor, a seasoned adventurer named Captain Harlow, stood at the front of the room. His rugged face and weathered gear spoke of years spent in the wild.
"Welcome to the most critical class you will attend at Ironwood Academy: Wilderness Survival in Monster-Infested Forests." Captain Harlow's deep, commanding voice filled the room. "As future adventurers, you will travel through forests crawling with creatures both majestic and dangerous. The skills you learn here could mean the difference between life and death."
He began to pace, each step steady and deliberate. "First, you must understand the creatures that dwell in the wild. From the harmless to the ferocious, every beast has its own behavior, its own weakness. Observation and patience will always serve you better than blind courage."
Harlow gestured to the tables. "Next, you'll learn to live off the land — to find food, water, and shelter when the world offers nothing freely. The wilderness provides what you need, but it will never hand it to you easily."
His gaze hardened, and his tone grew even more serious. "And above all, remember — survival demands more than strength. It takes adaptability, calm, and resilience. Panic is the first killer in the wild."
A brief silence followed before he added, with a faint smile, "Embrace the unknown, students. It may just save your life."
---
After the lecture, Captain Harlow led the class outside to a wooded area beside the academy. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting soft golden light over the moss-covered ground.
"Today, we put words into action," he announced, surveying the gathered students. "Each of you will build a shelter strong enough to withstand both the weather and whatever might wander near. Nobles, you'll form your own groups. The rest of you — pair with those closest to you."
Alder quickly joined Cal, Sara, and Tarrel. The group exchanged smiles as they headed toward the trees, their excitement mixed with nervous energy.
"Let's make ours the best," Cal said confidently, cracking his knuckles.
Alder smirked. "Or at least one that won't fall on us in our sleep."
Sara laughed while Tarrel added, "I'll take sturdy over pretty any day."
They scattered to gather branches, vines, and thick leaves. Alder's experience with carpentry guided them as they worked. Together, they built a simple lean-to, its frame lashed tight with vines and its roof layered with overlapping leaves for cover.
Captain Harlow moved among the groups, watching carefully and offering pointers. When he stopped by Alder's team, he tugged lightly on one of their knots and nodded.
"Good effort. Solid frame," he said. "Which of you's done this before?"
Alder raised a hand. "My father's a carpenter, sir."
"That explains it. Keep your bindings tighter next time — the forest's storms don't forgive loose work."
---
By midday, the field buzzed with chatter and exhaustion. Some groups had finished; others struggled to tie vines or balance their structures. The nobles, confident in their work, stood proudly beside ornate shelters decorated with flowers and carved crests.
Captain Harlow began his inspection. The first noble shelter collapsed with a push.
"Too flimsy," he said flatly. "You'd be buried under this before dawn."
He stopped at another, just as decorative but no sturdier. "Impressive to look at, useless in a storm. Shelter isn't a showpiece — it's survival."
When he reached Alder's group, they stood quietly, uncertain. He ran a calloused hand across their lean-to, testing the tension of each joint. After a long pause, he stepped back.
"Barely passable," he said finally. "But it'll hold through a night's rain — and that's more than most here can say."
The four exchanged relieved smiles.
---
The remainder of the class passed quickly. Under Captain Harlow's direction, the students practiced lighting fires and identifying edible plants. Alder struggled at first to spark his tinder, but when a flicker finally caught and grew into a steady flame, pride swelled in his chest.
During foraging, Captain Harlow pointed to a cluster of plants. "This one feeds you," he said, brushing a fern. "That one poisons you. Nature offers both — it's your job to learn which is which."
Alder crouched beside a patch of berries, running his fingers over the rough bark of a nearby tree. The air smelled fresh and alive. Something about being here felt natural to him — almost comforting, as if the forest itself recognized him.
---
As dusk settled, the students gathered around small campfires. The flickering flames reflected in their eyes as Harlow addressed them one final time.
"Strength alone won't keep you alive," he said, his voice low and steady. "Patience will. Observation will. Monsters may shatter steel, but they can't harm what they can't find."
He gave a small nod before turning away, leaving the students to reflect on the lesson.
Sitting beside the fire, Alder glanced at his friends — Cal still grinning from ear to ear, Sara brushing dirt from her sleeves, and Tarrel staring quietly into the flames.
The forest around them hummed softly — alive, mysterious, and vast.
For the first time, Alder didn't feel like just another student. He felt like part of something greater — something ancient and enduring.