Draken Venteau
( West Astoria, On the road to Heaven's touch, Capital city. )
There was an almost soothing song to the rhythm of hooves against cobblestones as a light drizzle pattered against the roof of the carriage. While protected from the bone chilling rain outside the climate for those inside the carriage was just as, if not more so in a way, bone chilling. While those that walked along the capital streets went about their normal lives, the boy stared in silence at the man who'd sired him. While most wouldn't be joyous at having their bastard son show up on their doorstep after knowing nothing of them, the look on his father's face held such contempt for the boy that one might believe he'd destroyed everything this man had built in the instant they'd met.
The nobleman wore what one might expect him to wear, elegant clothing befitting a Duke with close ties to the royal families ruling the West, and a coat with the crest of a great sea beast. His hair and beard were akin to the black of a crow's feathers with small flecks of grey being the only signs that he wasn't a man at the apex of his adult life. His eyes were the only signs of a resemblance between the boy and himself, sharp green eyes with small flecks of gold scattered amongst the irises.
"It's almost as if the gods decided to place the pattern of the stars inside your eyes. That's a blessing child, kind eyes like yours aren't something you see amongst more than a few children in Astoria." He recalled old Nan telling that to him one cool summer's night as she applied one of her balms to his hands. For the life of him Draken couldn't see any kind of kindness or warmth in the eyes of the man who sat opposite of himself, but there was an almost pitying kindness in the eyes of the young woman who sat beside his father. He believed she was called Abigail, his father's third wife if what the servants had told him the night before was to be believed. She couldn't have been a year over twenty and yet there she sat the wife of a Duke out of necessity to keep the Royal bloodline within the confines of nobility. She offered the boy a kind smile as their eyes met for a moment, which he returned to the best of his ability before he felt the sharp sting of a hand against his cheek.
"It would be in your best interest to keep your eyes on the one with obvious ill intent towards you child. It would be a true travesty if such a pretty face was ruined simply because your eyes wandered off for a moment no?" The question came from the cloaked woman who sat next to Draken as his father fixed the signet ring on the hand he'd used to strike the boy. He rubbed his cheek softly and nodded as a pale hand moved his own and pressed lightly against his cheek. Instantly the painful sting had left his cheek and he almost felt the caring warmth akin to his passed Mother's touch. The feeling sent a longing through his body as the image of her smiling face appeared in his mind's eye. She was of the southern tribes that lived in the deserts of Reshinir; though he held little real resemblance to her, she'd shown him the love only a mother could to her child despite their circumstances.
Draken bit the inside of his cheek sharply as he pushed the fond memories of her back into a corner of his mind while the pale cloaked woman next to him placed a small sack in his lap. "This is all I can give you my dear child, you'll need it in the coming months if you wish to make your way through this new world of nobility." Her words caused the older man to scoff and purse his lips, as if to spit at a reprobate held in the stocks of the capital square. Draken knew that look too well, in fact, in his years among the lowest classes he'd seen many he knew personally in those stocks and now he felt their weight against his own neck despite being completely free.
He opened the sack and pulled out a signet much like his father's, with the family crest of a double headed dragon as its insignia. After placing the ring on the finger of his left hand Draken searched through the contents of the sack to find three small pouches of Hush inside, he knew all too well the effects of the drug, so many among the poor of Astoria clawed tooth and nail to gather enough coin for weeks to get only a third of what he had in a single pouch. He thought for a moment before closing the sack again, deciding to wait until later in the day to search through it completely. "You know as well as I that we can't risk another accident Draken, make sure you take three doses everyday and one in the morning, evening, and night to keep those nightmares at bay." She commanded in a warning tone, her accent was akin to his mother's though it was heavier, a clear sign she'd not spent much time in Astoria. His only reply was a quick nod of understanding as he turned his head away from the woman's unnaturally dark auburn eyes that seemed almost bewitching at times in the short span he'd known her.
The carriage ride was silent the rest of the way as none among its occupants believed it necessary to speak to one another with idle chit chat. For what felt like an eternity they continued to ride in complete silence as Draken kept his mind busy with the few incantations the pale woman had taught him the week he'd stayed in his father's home. The spells, if she was to be believed, had little power if one was simply reciting them and placed no willpower behind them. "One must pull through the veil between the natural and supernatural to find the power behind those words through willpower alone child. Without any strength of will those words are as harmless as a curse from a jilted lover."
Her words passed through his mind for a moment as he continued to recite the words until the carriage stopped. "M'lord, we've arrived." The driver announced before another rain soaked servant opened the carriage door, and yet despite the cold he gave Draken a cheerful smile. As the boy stepped out of the carriage he realised just how stuffy in the inside of the carriage had been and he welcomed the chill of the rain with a smile as he breathed in the morning air. Draken was greeted by a mountain of a man who stood up straight, the posture of a soldier in the military, there was a clear difference between this man and the common guards and mercenaries who frequented the brothels of the lower city. "You must be the young master I've been waiting for, come follow me I'll take you to the Grand Hall. Your fellow students and instructors are waiting for us there."
He spoke with the tone of one who was used to giving the orders and without waiting for any acknowledgement from Draken he turned and began to walk with a purpose towards the doors of the Academy. The young male stood there for a moment, mouth agape as he took in the sight of the Academy, it's architecture was a work of art, with its daunting size and spires the building could only be matched by the castle of the royal family. The building looked as if those that designed it had decided to push four castles into each other to create the somehow beautiful amalgamation that it was. A sharp cough pulled Draken out of his bewildered state as the man looked at him without any emotion on his face while he waited for him at the doors; protected from the rain. Draken felt warmth rise up in his ears as he quickly made his way towards the man, cursing himself under his breath at how obvious he'd made it that he wasn't anything more than a street urchin, completely lost among the elite noble children that he'd soon call his fellow students.
"I see the young master is enjoying the wonders of the Academy's outward appearance but I can assure you that what's inside is even more astounding." Draken was taken by surprise when the bald man gave him a small wink and a friendly smile as the doors opened and he led him inside. As they walked through the halls of the Academy Draken caught glaces from many of the students and teachers that also walked the elaborately decorated halls. Many groups of students all wore the same clothes with only small golden stripes along their shoulders to differentiate between them.
"Here at the Astorian Academy the students are taught a plethora of things, from magick, to military strategy, to the inner workings of the noble court. They come from all walks of life, from the house of the King to even the common fiefdoms outside of our great capital. The only way to distinguish the wheat from the chaff is through their actions in the Academy, no one is forced to enroll here and all are free to leave whenever it becomes too much for them. . ." The bald man continued to speak but Draken had found himself lost in thought. "No one but me it seems." The thought put a bitter taste in his mouth as he followed him silently as more eyes found their way towards the boy, examining him silently as if weighting the pros and cons of the new student, sizing him up before the first day had even begun. Draken soon found himself being led in the Grand Hall of the academy where the large man patted his back softly before turning away to leave the boy to his own devices.
Draken found himself feeling out of place in his common clothes as many children of nobility talked amongst themselves, having already found themselves at home among their own kind. Daken sighed softly as his hand passed through his platinum head of hair and he found a seat along the back wall, giving himself a clear line of sight away from the other new students that talked amongst themselves without giving him the slightest notice. The darker tone of his skin and shock of platinum hair clearly showed his blood was mixed with the desert people of the South and he preferred if he could avoid comments on the skirmishes that continued between Astoria and Reshinir.
As the first year students continued to gather in the Grand hall, finding their way into the pews while continuing their conversations without a care for their surroundings the instructors began to silently slip into the room. They stood on the stairs leading to the podium facing the student body: some wore clothing befitting scholars and mages, loose robes of differentiating colors though most wore dark robes as black as moonless night. The other half of the group of instructors wore clothing that ranged from obvious military garb to clothing one might expect thieves to wear while stalking through the night.
As a hush fell over the crowd of students as an elderly human woman made her way to the podium, offering a kind smile towards what seemed to be each and every student who's eyes met those dark hazel irises, though if they held her gaze for too long the feeling of intrusion might creep into the back of a students mind as if she had started to leaf through their memories like the ancient texts of her personal library. Draken felt geese flesh rise up on the back of his neck and forearms as she held his gaze and while he attempted to look away from her his body had seemed to stop obeying him.
The feeling was akin to what he assumed a fly might feel when held by its wings, at the mercy of a being who had expressed its power for no reason more than because it could. Fear was always an emotion people preferred not to feel and Draken was no exception, he began to taste bile on the back of his tongue again as he continued to fight to pull away from the old woman's gaze to no avail. When she finally looked away from him Draken let out a shaky breath as the fear left him shivering in his seat despite the fair temperature inside the hall; he looked down at his hands, commanding his body to stop shaking, to stop showing the fear he felt.
While concentrating on the pattern of the lines in his palms a light glow beneath the pew in front of him caught his eyes and upon further examination he noticed the fading glow of a rune and as the rune faded that paralysing fear he'd felt moments before left him and he could once again raise his head up to look at the old woman. The boy didn't know whether he should feel anger or respect towards the woman's trick, had it just been a cheap trick for some sick joke amongst the instructors or a show of power? That with a few small bits of otherwise useless writing on stone she could force any of the first years to sit in silent fear as she examined them. "But what does that prove?"
He asked himself in the back of his mind before he found himself without an answer. "Perhaps it proves nothing young man. I could always just want my students to always think that despite all they know, there's always more to the world, or maybe I just enjoy a good laugh." The voice that answered his mental question didn't belong to him, the mental intrusion shook Draken out of his concentrated state and his eyes rose from examining the previous place the rune had been to find that once again fine the headmaster's eyes locked onto his own. Her smile grew slightly and the kindness behind it only seemed to increase though there was a spark behind those irises that caused the boy to feel uneasy.
"I'd like to welcome you all to the Astorian Academy, to my Academy." The frail elderly woman's voice boomed through the room with impressive force behind it despite her size. Perhaps it was amplified by another rune hidden in the room, not that it mattered one way or another; she was speaking and the students had all closed their mouths leaving the room so silent that if the Headmaster had stopped to take a breath one might be able to hear a needle fall against the stone floor. "While it's quite obvious that you all come from many different walks of life, here at this Academy you'll be taught a new way of life, one that I expect you all to follow to the t if you wish to remain here, I'd hate to be forced into dismissing any of you early."
"There are a few rules that I believe necessary to state before dismissing the first years. Rule number one, you are to remain in uniform at all times while you walk the halls of our prestigious institution, the only times you should be out of uniform are when training in the yard or when you're sleeping. If a student is caught outside of uniform on Academy grounds they'll receive a demerit on their permanent record. If anyone gains five or more demerits before the semester's end they'll be forced to remain at the Academy during the first semester break for disciplinary action." The thought of what might possibly be called disciplinary action by mages and high ranking military personnel sent a small chill down the boy's spine while the woman paused to take a breath.
"Rule number two, you are to follow the words of your instructors as law no matter how foolish you might believe them to be, they've gained their title for a reason and you as students will show them the respect they deserve. If however, for any reason you believe a instructor of the Academy is abusing their title you're to bring the issue to me directly and I'll see it handled personally. Rule number three, sexual interactions among the student body, while enrolled here, is strictly prohibited. While what you all do during the semester breaks is up to you, if caught on Academy grounds the offending students will be immediately expelled and barred from the Academy for the remainder of their natural lives; you all are here to study for your own reasons, please don't let a few moments of carnal pleasure ruin your chances at greatness. Finally we have rule number four, murder and fighting with murderous intent while on Academy grounds is forbidden and all who break this rule will be sentenced to a life in a prison conlonies, death immediately by executioner, or however myself and the Academy heads decide."
Her sentence was punctuated by murmurs amongst the students while a deeply disturbed frown crossed the canvas of the Headmaster's face, she obviously hated the thought that a student might murder another but it wasn't out of the question, after all Draken had known people to kill for the slightest of reasons in the slums of Astoria: there was no telling what a pompous mage of noble birth might believe was an adequate reason to kill. After a moment the headmaster raised her hand, calling for silence once again to finish speaking, her smile returned though it was obviously more forced than it had been at the start.
"That sums up the rules if you all would look at your laps you'll see a small sheet of paper with instructions on how to find your assigned rooms along with your student pension which you'll receive at the end of every week in order to buy the essentials you might need. You'll find that the rooms can hold up to four students and they can be found along the East wing of the Academy and your uniforms will be found on your respective beds; feel free to switch beds at your leisure if your roommates are agreeable to the idea. The first-year rooms are at the fifth floor for both males and females, males are on the left side of the hall and females are on the right, do try to remember that, I'd hate for any demerits to be earned on the first day. You all have two classes tomorrow, your semester schedule will also be found on your respective beds but if memory serves there's a voluntary early class everyday at dawn for. . . combative training. That's all, I'm sure you're all just as ready as I am to start a wonderful year here at Astoria's most prestigious academy."
With that the old woman nodded once and the great oak doors that had shut in unnoticeable silence opened with a rather loud rumbling sound, signalling for the students that they were free to go to their rooms now.
The first year students, that hadn't immediately left the hall upon their dismissal, slowly began to once again talk amongst themselves; the telltale buzz of conversation among their respective groups becoming a noise Daken liked to image was something akin to crickets chirping in the background.
"Best not to listen in on things that don't concern me, it'd do no good to be confronted by a noble boy who already believed themselves second solely to the Emperor himself."
As if they'd read his thoughts a boisterous voice shouted above the the murmur of the rest. "We didn't come here to be taunted by an old crone and her cheap tricks!" The volume of the speaker caused even Draken to find himself turning to see a rather handsomely built young boy giving a dramatic sneer across his shoulder towards the now empty podium where the Headmaster had once been. Now that he'd been looking in that direction Draken noticed that all the instructors had left, and while those children of noble birth who'd begun to gather around the newest speaker might've been fooled by the bravado of such an act he understood this game very well.
The loudest one in the room always seemed able to garner the most attention from a crowd, especially when they spoke what was on the minds of the people around them, but this one wasn't so foolish as to speak out against the Headmistress' actions while she was still in the Grand Hall. The speaker continued to talk, using the chair he'd most likely have been sitting in as his makeshift stand, placing himself at the proper position to speak while meeting the eyes of many who gathered around. Draken attempted to make his way out of the hall at that moment as he saw no need to encourage the noble who's airs of superiority seemed to dwarf that of those around him but, sadly a few of the students who'd been on their way out decided to come back to listen to the speaker, pressing Draken into the throng by force. While this wasn't exactly an ideal situation, the boy decided to make the best of it nevertheless, taking advantage of how tightly packed the students were, Draken refreshed his old pickpocketing skills a few of these noble born children here and there would later realize that their coin has up and vanished. There was little doubt he'd ever be suspected as he made his way towards the front of the crowd; where he hoped the air might be less likely to smell of so many different aromas among those that gathered 'round.
"Old habits die hard don't they boy?" A gravelly voice questioned in his mind, another unwelcomed intrusion of the sanctuary that had once been his mind, similar to what the old crone had done not moments ago; the only difference being he knew this voice. Draken, as nonchalantly as he could, began to search for the soft light of another rune somewhere around his person through the throng around him, when that proved itself to be a fruitless endeavor he instead searched the faces of those around them. Draken searched for a look of shock or perhaps revulsion among those around him but found nothing but the eyes of those completely enthralled by the speaker who'd be going on about their noble blood and right to something or other. When he found nothing of the sort Draken decided to answer the voice, putting on a smirk in his mind's eye before replying, one that had saved him many times from Old Nan's ladle as punishment for tasting supper before it was ready. Many a night had passed with her and his mother agreeing that his face would soon enough get him in more trouble than he'd be ready for.
"I'm certain they'll receive more than enough in compensation from their student pensions along with whatever their fathers will send to them. Take only what won't be missed, that's the third law of any good thief."
He remarked silently, repeating the words spoken to him by an old thief who'd gotten too greedy and had to spend some time in the stocks for stealing from the wrong lord one too many times before he'd been caught. Draken could still remember the blood dripping from the gory rotten stump where the man's right hand once been attaches . After waiting a moment for a reply and finding no one there to answer Draken shook his head slightly, perhaps he'd just been too paranoid and had just been hearing things that were never truly there.
Without a reply given Draken made his way to the front of the crowd, squeezing his way past two rather heavy set boys who both smelled of an ungodly amalgamation of sweat and lavender strong enough to cause his eyes to water. As he passed them, taking two sweat drenched purses from them both for his troubles, he masked his disgust as he put both the purses within the cloak he wore before he looked up at the boy who had yet to stop speaking. His head was crowned with neatly trimmed light brown hair, combed back and glistening with something Draken could only assume was the fat grease of some long since eaten boar masked with the scent of crushed rose petals.
The thought of allowing pigs fat to be placed in his hair was something that broke the mask of indifference he'd been wearing, a soft chuckle slipped through his lips before he truly knew what was happening and the eyes of the speaker, dark blue oceans that shone with a light too kind to be true were set on him. "Yes, even the common born should be treated with a greater respect for the sanctity of their mind! We are the next generation of Astoria's greatest scholars, mages, and generals! We will not stand for such things! Isn't that right my friend?" It took Draken a moment to realise that the boy was speaking directly to him, a moment too long perhaps as he felt a sweaty palm push against his shoulder enough to cause a jolted step forward.
"A-Aye, m'lord." Was all he could say as he met the boy's eye's once more the kindness still there, still too honest its own way. "Rule number one, never trust the kindness in a noble born's eyes, isn't that right?" The old man's voice had once again returned into Draken's mind in a hushed, and raspy warning of a whisper; it was all Draken could do not to jump with shock at the voice's return and the fact it seemed to know as much about his past as he did. "Didn't a woman named Margret tell you that?" The voice continued, though this time Draken felt a presence of sorts as he stood there in front of this crowd of noble children listening to their self appointed leader; as if a hand rested on his shoulder, too light to be the pudgy hand of the one who'd pushed him before. But heavy enough to be noticed, like another cloak had been set atop the one he wore then.
"It was something all the toys in the brothel had to know, they aren't there to help you they're only there to use you until they've been satisfied. But you never were good with understanding the rules unless you experienced why first hand." The voice was mocking him now as it faded away once more, leaving Draken with the memory of a hot blade against his back. The memory on it's own was enough to cause his stomach to churn as his ears began to ring with the sound of a haunting sadistic laugh followed by pain that caused his knees to nearly buckle right there in front of the crowd. Giving his pardons to those behind him he quickly made his way through the crowd, picking up his pace as their ranks thinned the farther he got from the speaker.
Upon finally getting free of the crowd Draken quickly ran out the hall, the raspy laughter of whomever had decided to invade his mind mocking him as Draken found himself hidden away from the other first years, on his knees vomiting what little contents his stomach had in it into a small pot that had once been home to a beautiful collection of violets mere minutes ago. His arms began to ache slightly from how greatly he squeezed the plant where he held it until he set the pot down between his legs. Draken leaned back against a cool stone wall after spitting into the pot one last time, shaking his head at how one bad memory had broken him down, as if he were still that defenceless boy from years past. "Tomorrow, tomorrow will be better I'm sure."