"Honey, close the door, will you?"

  The coachman, heavyset and in his mid-thirties, pulled the door closed behind him. Life was good here in Schooltown, maybe just a little too good, but never look too closely at a gift life gave you -- it might be taken back.

  "New kids?"

  "All the way from Isekai. Picked them up from the crossroads."

  "Like last year, then?"

  Sounds of earthenware clacking against wood told him a tale of home, dinner and a good life earned through hard work. "A little less of them, but yes."

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  "How many?"

  He hung his coat on a peg on the wall. Part of his uniform. Late summer or early autumn that coat was too heavy to wear by far, but it made him look like a proper coachman, and looks were important. "Less than thirty of them."

  "Future adventurers, most of them?" The sound of his wife's voice was followed by that of mugs and plates being set on the table.

  "Half of the Soldier of Fortune class, like usual, yes."

  "Spellswords?"

  "Ten, I guess. Hard to say, they're silent."

  Every year, the same routine. A third of the students came from Isekai by varying routes. Almost all wanted their enrolment kept a secret. In the end, Spellsword Academy turned out dominated by outworlders without anyone knowing it.

  "Dinner's ready. Call the kids!"

  "Will do." He opened the door again. "What's on the table?"

  "A new recipe. I had a chat with the school chef yesterday. Outworlder delicacy. Curry rice."

  Purse and Shield, starts after the four short scenes.