The journey stretched on, as the carriage trundled through the countryside. Naryn had never ventured this far from the Rosvella estate before, and while Anden was content to brood inside the carriage, Naryn remained in the back with the luggage, eyes scanning the unfamiliar landscapes. Dense forests, sprawling fields, and the occasional village whizzed past, each mile feeling like another step into an unknown world for him
On the third day of their journey, as they traversed a narrow pass shrouded by trees, the tranquil cadence of their travel was shattered.
Garret, the coachman, pulled back on the reins, slowing the horses. "Something's amiss," he whispered, scanning the greenery.
A shiver ran down Naryn's spine as the carriage ground to a stop.He stepped off and approached with apprehension, a sense of danger looming..."What's wrong ?" he inquired.
"Shh," Garret signaled with a raised hand. An deep silence had fallen over the woods, devoid of the usual wildlife chorus.
Suddenly, a shout pierced the quiet silence, and figures in armor emerged from the foliage, their weapons wield with assurance. Bandits.
"Everyone out !" they commanded gruffly, brandishing a corroded blade at Garret. "Give us all you have since i still ask you nicely and you could live another day."
As Naryn's pulse quickened, more bandits encircled them. Garret gestured peaceably, while Naryn turned to see Anden exit the carriage, his visage one of icy anger.
The bandit chief, marked by a scar across his face, mocked upon seeing Anden's elegant clothes. "Ah, a noble, are we ? Your pockets must be full."
Anden's eyebrow arched coolly. "You're mistaken," he stated.
The bandit's mocking laughter resonated in the still air. "I think not. Empty them before I—"
His threat hung unfinished.
Anden's hand moved quickly, a stream of flickering light bursting from his fingers. The air around him crackled with energy and, in an instant, lightning rained down, striking the leader in the chest. The man was thrown backwards, and his cry of pain was cut short as he crashed to the ground, unconscious.
The other bandits froze, their faces pale. Anden smiled and stepped forward. "Anyone else ?"
One of them shouted in panic, rushing at Anden with an axe raised. Anden's smile widened. With a flick of his wrist, a blast of ice spread from his palm, freezing the bandit's weapon and arm in a thick layer of frost. The man stepped back, screaming.
Another tried to attack from the side, but Anden was quicker. A gust of wind blew across the clearing, sending the attacker sprawling.
Naryn watched in amazement as Anden picked off the attackers one by one. The air around him shimmered with raw magical power, each of his spell were precise and devastating. The bandits, who had been so confident, were frightened into flight.
When the last of them disappeared into the trees, Anden dusted himself off and turned back to the cart. His gaze met Naryn's, and for a moment there was an unspoken challenge in his eyes.
"Get back in,'" he said coldly. "We're wasting time."
The final leg of the journey passed in tense silence. Naryn couldn't shake the memory of what he'd seen. Anden's magic was as terrifying as it was impressive. Naryn had known the Rosvella family wielded power, but seeing it in action was something else entirely. It was a stark reminder of the gulf between their worlds.
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, the carriage finally rolled through the academy gates. Naryn leaned forward, his breath catching at the sight before him.
The academy was nothing short of magnificent. Its towering spires seemed to scrape the clouds, and its sprawling grounds were alive with activity. Dozens of carriages filled the courtyard, nobles stepping out in finely tailored clothing, their servants scurrying to unload their luggage. The air buzzed with anticipation.
Anden stepped out of the carriage, his usual arrogance intact as he surveyed the scene. Naryn followed, keeping his head low as he took in the crowd. The other nobles were every bit as haughty as Anden, their disdainful glances falling on their servants.
Then, a hush fell over the courtyard.
A figure emerged from the grand entrance of the academy, descending the marble steps with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. She was tall and striking, her raven-black hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of silk. Her eyes, a piercing blue, seemed to hold the crowd in a spell. She wore a flowing gown of deep violet, embroidered with silver runes that shimmered faintly in the fading light.
"Welcome, Freshmen," she said, her voice commanding yet melodic. "I am Lady Elyssia, Director of the Academy."
Every head turned toward her, and even the most arrogant nobles seemed subdued in her presence. Naryn felt a shiver run down his spine as her gaze swept over the crowd, lingering on him for the briefest moment.
"This year," she continued, her voice carrying across the courtyard, "marks the beginning of a new era. For the first time in the history of this institution, we are opening our doors to more than just the noble elite. Servants and commoners,will now have the opportunity to study within these walls."
A ripple of murmurs ran through the crowd, shock and disbelief evident on many faces. Naryn's eyes widened, his heart pounding.
Lady Elyssia raised a hand, silencing the whispers. "However, these students will be part of a different department, one tailored to their station. The path ahead will not be easy, but those who prove themselves worthy will find their place here. Remember this: greatness is not given; it is earned."
Her gaze lingered on the crowd for a moment longer before she turned and ascended the steps once more. The spell broke, and the courtyard erupted into conversation.
Anden scoffed, crossing his arms. "Ridiculous. As if they could ever compete with us."
Naryn said nothing, his thoughts a whirlwind. The academy was not what he had expected. This new system was both an opportunity and a challenge a chance to learn, but also a reminder of the barriers he would face.
As the students and their servants began to file inside, Naryn followed Anden, his steps heavy with uncertainty but laced with a flicker of hope.
This was his chance.
As the crowd of students and servants began to disperse, heading inside the academy their assigned quarters and the grand halls of the academy, Naryn remained rooted in place. Lady Elyssia's announcement lingered in his mind, a faint glimmer of hope he hadn't dared to entertain before. A smile crept onto his lips a rare, fleeting moment of optimism in a life so tightly bound by servitude.
But it didn't last.
"Wipe that smile off your face," Anden's cold voice snapped from behind him. Before Naryn could react, Anden's hand shot out, gripping him by the collar of his tunic and pulling him close. His piercing eyes bore into Naryn's, brimming with disdain and warning.
"Don't even think about it," Anden hissed. His tone was venomous, dripping with malice. "You're still my servant, my property. Don't think for a second that this academy's ridiculous new system changes anything. That collar on your neck ? I'm the only one who holds the key to your freedom."
Naryn's heart sank as the metal collar around his neck felt heavier than ever. Anden's grip tightened, his lips curling into a cruel smirk.
"You're forbidden to even try learning even if i let you the collar prevent you to use magic or chanel your mana," Anden spat, each word like a nail hammered into Naryn's fleeting hope. "And don't forget my orders are absolute"
With a sudden shove, Anden released him, sending Naryn stumbling to the ground. He landed on his knees, the sting of humiliation sharper than the pain. The cobblestones were cold beneath him, but the heat of shame burned in his chest as Anden loomed over him, his shadow casting Naryn in darkness.
Naryn didn't dare lift his gaze. His body felt heavy, as though he were sinking into an endless sea, the light of hope dimming above him. His voice trembled as he spoke the only words he could muster. "As you wish… Master."
Anden chuckled darkly, the sound cutting through the murmurs of the crowd that had begun to notice the scene. Slowly, he raised his boot and pressed it against Naryn's face, forcing him lower. The humiliation was unbearable, but Naryn remained still, his fists clenched at his sides, his fingernails digging into his palms as anger and frustration churned within him.
"Remember your place," Anden sneered, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
Naryn bit his lips suppressing the scream that threatened to burst from his throat. The heat of fury burned behind his eyes, but he swallowed it down, burying it deep beneath the weight of fear and submission.
Satisfied, Anden removed his foot and turned away, his smirk unwavering as he walked off, the nobles around him parting like waves before his commanding presence. His entourage followed, laughing and sneering as they cast fleeting glances at Naryn, still kneeling on the cold ground.
For a moment, Naryn remained there, his body frozen in place as the world seemed to move around him. Whispers filled the air, some mocking, others pitying, but none offering help. Commoners and servants alike avoided his gaze, unwilling to risk drawing Anden's ire.
Finally, Naryn forced himself to stand, his legs trembling beneath him. He dusted off his clothes, though the marks of humiliation could not so easily be wiped away. He drew a slow, shaky breath, his thoughts a storm of anger and despair.
In the depths of his mind, however, a faint ember of resolve flickered. Anden may have the key to the collar around his neck, but he would not let the leash bind his spirit forever.
For now, he bowed his head, keeping his true feelings hidden. The academy's gates were now open, and though the path ahead seemed impossibly steep, Naryn promised himself that he would endure it no matter what.
The academy's grand courtyard began to clear as students and servants made their way into the halls, the murmur of conversations a backdrop to Naryn's quiet resolve. His face remained downcast, his body trembling slightly from the encounter, but his mind was afire with conflicting emotions. Shame weighed heavily on him, yet beneath it, anger simmered a slow-burning flame fueled by the indignities he'd suffered.
Anden's footsteps faded into the crowd, the arrogant noble already basking in the reverence of his peers. Naryn straightened his posture, casting a furtive glance at the towering spires of the academy. They stood as both a challenge and a symbol of hope, promising an opportunity for those willing to grasp it. Though Anden's control seemed absolute, Naryn's heart refused to yield entirely.
As he dusted himself off, he caught the curious eyes of a few commoners and servants. Some looked away quickly, unwilling to risk their masters' wrath by appearing too sympathetic. Others lingered, their expressions a mix of pity and uncertainty. One young servant, her face smudged with dirt but her eyes bright with defiance, offered Naryn a fleeting nod before disappearing into the crowd.
Naryn clenched his fists and took a deep breath, steadying himself. This is only the beginning, he thought. He couldn't allow himself to falter now. Whatever Anden believed, whatever the nobles decreed, the academy had opened a door. It might be narrow and perilous, but it was there.
For the first time in his life, Naryn felt the stirrings of something he had long thought extinguished: hope. And though it was fragile and tentative, it was enough to keep him moving forward. He adjusted the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder and followed the flow of the crowd toward the academy's towering gates.
Each step felt like a declaration, a silent promise to himself. One day, he would no longer bow to anyone. Anden's leash might be tight, but Naryn vowed to find a way to break it even if it meant enduring the trials of servitude a while longer.
The academy loomed before him, vast and intimidating, its gates now open to both torment and possibility. And with a determined set to his jaw, Naryn walked through them, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
As Naryn trudged along the path toward the academy's massive entrance, the group came to an abrupt halt. A tall figure emerged from the shadow of the archway, his presence commanding attention like a sudden gust of wind in a still forest. The man's piercing eyes swept over the crowd, and his sharp features gave him an almost intimidating aura. His voice cut through the chatter, crisp and authoritative.
"I am Instructor Corvell," he announced, his tone leaving no room for dissent. "One of the academy's senior instructors. All nobles, follow me. Your quarters await."
The nobles quickly gathered, some with expressions of boredom, others clearly nervous but masking it with practiced arrogance. Anden, predictably, strode forward with his usual confidence, not sparing Naryn another glance as he joined the group. Corvell turned on his heel and led them away, his cloak billowing behind him like a shadow.
Naryn lingered, feeling a momentary pang of relief at Anden's absence, but it was short-lived. Another figure stepped forward, this one less imposing but no less striking. The man was shorter, stockier, with a kind but firm expression. His uniform, though simpler, bore the academy's crest. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the remaining crowd.
"I am Instructor Fendrel," he introduced himself, his voice steady. "I will lead the servants, commoners, and others to your quarters."
The group of commoners and servants, exchanged hesitant glances before following him through the sprawling campus. The contrast between the grandiose halls meant for nobles and the simpler, albeit still impressive, paths for their group wasn't lost on anyone.
They entered a large auditorium, its rows of wooden benches polished to a dull shine. A faint hum of whispers echoed as everyone found their seats, the enormity of the moment dawning on them. This was the academy a place that most of them had only heard of in tales.
Instructor Fendrel stood at the center of the room, his posture straight, his hands clasped behind his back. When the murmurs subsided, he began to speak.
"As you all know, this year marks a significant shift in the academy's traditions. With the inclusion of commoners and servants among the student body, we are breaking new ground. However…" His tone turned apologetic. "Due to the unprecedented nature of this change, we are still adjusting. Unfortunately, we do not yet have a sufficient number of mage instructors available for your department. As such, you will be focusing on theoretical studies of magic for the time being."
A groan rippled through the crowd, some voices murmuring complaints. Naryn remained silent, absorbing the information. Theory wasn't ideal, but it was something a step closer to the knowledge he craved.
Instructor Fendrel raised a hand, and the room quieted once more. "In addition to your magical studies, we are introducing a new subject to accommodate the growing student population: swordsmanship. This will be taught to all students in your department, regardless of their prior experience."
That announcement sparked a flurry of reactions, from excitement to trepidation. Naryn couldn't help but feel a flicker of interest. Swordsmanship was something he could throw himself into, without Anden's interference.
"Now," Fendrel continued, "you will be divided into teams of four. Each team will have a designated leader. These groups will be your companions for the duration of your studies, so choose wisely when it comes to cooperation. Lastly, you will be assigned your rooms two teams per room."
Assistants entered the auditorium, calling out names and distributing group assignments. Naryn's name was called, and he quickly joined his team a diverse mix of individuals, each looking as uncertain as he felt.
Their team leader was a tall, wiry boy named Gerrick, with sharp features and an air of quiet determination. The other members included Liana, a petite girl with striking green eyes and a quiet demeanor, and Osric, a broad-shouldered, loud-mouthed young man whose boisterous confidence was already grating.
Once all the groups were sorted, Fendrel clapped his hands. "That concludes your orientation. Follow the assistants to your quarters, and prepare for a rigorous schedule starting tomorrow. Dismissed."
As Naryn followed his team to their assigned room, he felt the weight of the day settling on him. The future remained uncertain, but for the first time in his life, he wasn't entirely alone. The academy, with all its challenges and inequalities, had given him a chance a small one, but a chance nonetheless.
The servant and commoner dormitory was a stark contrast to the grandeur of the academy's main halls. The building was functional but austere, with plain stone walls and narrow hallways lit by flickering lanterns. When Naryn and his group stepped into their assigned quarters, he was struck by how cramped the space felt compared to the lofty Rosvella estate.
The room held four simple beds, each pressed into a corner. A single wooden table and a few mismatched chairs stood in the center, and a small cabinet sat against one wall for storing their belongings. It was clear that luxury was reserved for the nobles.
As the group entered, Gerrick was the first to move. He tossed his bag onto the nearest bed and flopped down with a self-satisfied grunt, stretching out as if claiming the space as his own.
"This one's mine," he declared, not bothering to check if anyone objected.
Osric smirked and strode to another bed, dropping his belongings unceremoniously on it. "Figures we'd get the smallest room. Typical," he muttered, glancing around with a sneer. His gaze landed on Naryn, who lingered uncertainly by the door, and his smirk widened.
"Hey, collar-boy," Osric called out, his tone mocking. "You waiting for permission to breathe, or are you just confused about how doors work ?"
Gerrick snorted with laughter, propping himself up on one elbow. "Probably doesn't know which bed he's allowed to use. Go on, slave. Pick one."
Naryn's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He walked over to the only bed left unclaimed the one closest to the drafty window. Setting his bag down, he sat stiffly on the edge of the mattress, his back to the others.
"Aw, don't pout," Osric said, feigning pity. "We're just getting started. Gotta teach you how things work around here. It's bad enough we got stuck in the same group as a slave don't make it worse."
"Maybe he thinks he's special," Gerrick chimed in, swinging his legs off his bed. "Newsflash, collar-boy you're not. I don't know how the academy let a slave in."
Liana, who had been quietly unpacking her belongings, finally spoke up. "Enough."
Her voice was calm but firm, cutting through the jeers. Both Gerrick and Osric turned to look at her, and though they didn't seem intimidated, they grudgingly fell silent.
Liana glanced at Naryn but didn't say anything further, instead returning to her task with a neutral expression.
The quiet didn't last long. Gerrick leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as a sly grin spread across his face. "You know, I bet he doesn't even know how to read. Hey, Naryn," he called out, drawing out the name mockingly. "Do they teach slaves how to read, or is that too fancy for you ?"
Osric laughed, kicking his feet up onto the table. "If he can't read, what's he even doing here ? Just gonna sit there and drool while the rest of us study ?"
Naryn's fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. The collar around his neck felt heavier with every word they threw at him. He kept his head down, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.
Liana watched the exchange out of the corner of her eye but stayed silent this time, her expression unreadable.
Later that evening, after the others had left the room to explore the dormitory or find food, Naryn remained behind. He sat by the window, staring out at the darkening sky, his thoughts a tangle of frustration and helplessness.
The door creaked open, and Liana stepped inside. She paused when she saw him sitting there, then walked over to her bed, placing a small stack of books on the table.
After a moment of hesitation, she spoke. "They're idiots. Don't listen to them."
Naryn turned to look at her, surprised by the sudden kindness in her tone. "Why do you care ?" he asked quietly.
Liana shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I don't. I just don't like unnecessary cruelty."
Her words were curt, but there was a faint warmth beneath them. Naryn look at her for a moment, unsure if she meant what she said or was just trying to ease her own conscience.
"Thanks," he murmured eventually.
She nodded and turned away, busying herself with her books. The room fell into an uneasy silence, but for the first time that day, Naryn felt a flicker of relief. It wasn't much, but it was something.
The following days fell into an uncomfortable rhythm. The academy buzzed with energy as students, both noble and common born, moved between classes and training grounds. For the servants and commoners, the schedule was rigorous: mornings spent in theory lectures, afternoons in physical training. Naryn quickly realized how little rest they were afforded compared to the nobles.
In their dormitory group, the hostility toward him continued unabated. Gerrick and Osric made it their personal mission to ensure Naryn never felt comfortable. They teased him mercilessly, snickering at his every move and assigning him the menial chores they couldn't be bothered to do themselves.
"Since you're used to taking orders, slave, why don't you clean the floor while you're at it ?" Gerrick sneered one evening, tossing a bucket at Naryn's feet. "Oh, wait don't forget to bow first !"
Liana, as always, stayed on the periphery. She never joined in the mockery, but neither did she intervene. Naryn couldn't decide if her neutrality was an act of kindness or indifference, and he was too proud or too cautious to ask.
Naryn wipe the floor with anger, there nothing he can do to stop this they were all servant of noble a reminder in naryn mind that he was not in the same category than them.