by Sean Oswald
Once the introductions were done, Sir Melechet announced that he would be checking in every couple of days on Jackson and made a big deal of announcing that his mother was a true Chosen of Shanelle, the first in more than a generation. This led to some whispering among the students, which Master Meyer immediately quashed. From there, the Headmaster escorted Jackson to his office.
After being served tea, Jarvis began to explain the basis rules of the school and its schedule. The number one rule being that noble rank doesn’t matter here. They are all here as guests of the king and so are expected to obey their instructors. They are not to lord over other students in their respective rank. Headmaster Talcum seemed to have some trouble quantifying Jackson’s family’s rank. He started off by pointing out how new they were to the nobility and without any significant holdings. Then he went in the opposite direction and said that they were direct vassals to the king rather than to one of the dukes and that the amount of land they possessed was massive if still raw and unworked. In the end, he seemed to come to the conclusion that Jackson’s family was of middling importance amongst the barons but of greater importance than any of the knights’ children, who he scoffed at as barely being nobility.
Before Jackson knew it, the interview was over and a boy maybe a year or two younger than him showed up at the headmaster’s office knocking on the door. He was introduced as Malten Schinhofen, the son of Sir Schinhofen, a royal knight. Malten was going to be his roommate and show him around to the various parts of the academy. Inside the room, Malten was all somber and rigid, but once they were out in the hallway he wouldn’t stop talking.
As they walked down the stone hallways, Jackson took in the scenery. Everywhere he looked were luxurious tapestries and fine wooden furniture displaying various trophies. Of course, it was a bit hard to see it all while trying to answer an incessant stream of questions from Malten.
“So you are from like the way north? Does that mean that you are like a barbarian? And you’re half moon elf right? Did your dad have a moon elf mistress or something? Is it true that moon elves worship the moon and run naked in the forest? Did you have to drink blood from the heart of a beast? Do they really have dragons up in the northern mountains?”
Not sure where to start, Jackson tried to answer the questions in order, at least as much as he remembered. Of course, he also wanted to cut this short. “I’m actually from far away. My family is new to the kingdom. Not sure what you mean by a barbarian. My mom and dad have been married since long before I was born, and yes, my mom is a moon elf, so I guess that makes me half something.”
Malten burst in, “Half something? What’s that mean?”
“I just meant that I could be considered half human just as easily as I could be considered half-elf.”
The young boy stared at Jackson like he didn’t understand the words that were coming out of his mouth, and then he launched into a new line of questions. “So if your parents have been married a long time, does that mean that your dad is really old, and um, is your mom older than your dad?”
“No, dad is 40. I guess that’s kinda old but I think my mom is a year younger than him.”
“How could that be? I read that moon elves live to be over three hundred years old. Wouldn’t she have to be a lot older than your dad, or is she like gonna still be young when he dies?”
Shocked by the thought he had never considered before but wanting to move past this morbid subject, Jackson asked, “So what are you going to show me first? I have no idea where we are going.”
Malten looked around, “Oh sorry, I was just wanting to know about you. Everyone has been talking all week about when you were going to arrive. So anyway, um, do you want me to show you where we eat or where our room is first? Yeah, you get to be my roommate. Cool, huh? Oh wait, or would you rather see the social lounges where the students hang out? They don’t usually let first years, but you are so much older than most of the first years. You are practically like a 4th year student.”
Sighing, Jackson said, “How about our room first, then the dining hall. Maybe after that you can show me where the classes are held. I don’t want to get lost tomorrow, and it would be easier if I can relate everything back to where my dorm room is.”
“Dorm room? Never heard it called that before. Your true nobility so you get one of the good suites. That’s part of why I’m so excited to be your roommate. And if you ever get lost just ask one of the servants. That is what they are here for after all.”
Irked, Jackson said, “I don’t wanna have to rely on other people, and don’t the servants already have enough to do?”
Once again, Malten stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “You are so funny. I love it.”
Jackson continued to answer an array of questions but finally managed to get Malten to show him where their room was. The boy hadn’t been kidding. It was a suite with two bedrooms each larger than his room back home on earth, a sitting area with chairs, and a low table with padded benches the equivalent length of a couch. There was also a bathroom and a closet nearly the size of his bedroom back home. He wondered what all he would put into a closet that big since all the clothes he owned were on his back or in his backpack but decided he best not bring that up unless he wanted to be laughed at again.
After placing his few possessions in the room and hiding most of his coin, Jackson told Malten that he was ready to go see the rest of the academy campus.
He stood by the door shifting his mace from hand to hand as he waited for the younger boy. He was still trying to get the feel for it. The weight was balanced differently than a baseball bat which was the only thing he really had to compare it to.
“Um, maybe you didn’t know this, but students are not allowed to carry weapons on campus, well, except for in Master Meyer’s and maybe sometimes in Master Weber’s classes,” Malten said.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Why not?”
“Well, the academy and, thus by extension, the king pledge the safety of all the students here. King Bornstein opened up the royal academy to nobles from other nations, and it would cause quite a problem if some foreign kid was killed.”
Jackson nodded in understanding. “I guess that makes sense. So hey, before we go out, can you answer a couple of questions for me?”
“Duh, I have been saying I would answer your questions,” Malten said, managing to infuse a fair amount of agitation into his words.
Jackson managed to bite back the retort he wanted to make about how he would have asked questions if Malten ever shut up. “So what age students are allowed at the academy?”
“Normally students stay here from ten or eleven until they are fourteen or fifteen, but those who will become knights generally stay for a fifth year.”
“Sorry for so many questions, but why do only the knights stay here for the 5th year?” Jackson asked.
“It isn’t always only the knights … it is just that knights are considered the lowest rung of nobility. My father, for example, owns our home and a handful of farms around it from which he draws rents. But your father is baron over more than 2,000 square miles if my math is correct. Knights may be nobles, but they are still expected to fight and lead the common soldiers. So most knights stay here for a fifth year to get more specialized training in group tactics before they are assigned to a ten-year stint in the army. The sons of the border barons almost always stay for the fifth year, but they aren’t obligated to the king to serve ten years in the army.”
Jackson listened intently, but at some point, he started to wonder how long Malten could talk without stopping for a breath. “Is it only sons that come here?”
Malten’s face got red, and his voice became hushed as though he was going to say something scandalous. “Well of course the Albian families only send their sons, but Miromar sent their princess and another nobleman’s daughter here to the academy. I don’t know why the king allowed it, but who could imagine that girls would need to learn what we learn here?”
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Completely confused now, Jackson said, “Uh, the squad of soldiers that helped my dad fight off the death knight had two women in it, and the moon elves have women in their forces too.”
“Well who can account for what heathens … um, I mean I don’t know much about the moon elves. But are you sure they were women soldiers and not magic users in the king’s squad?”
Jackson thought back remembering the two women who had been in the squad. Olga was a wizard of some kind and hit it off bigtime with Mira, so maybe he was right. Then he thought about Leyna. First he had to calm himself, something about her made him feel all light headed. He couldn’t help but remember how hot she was and the way she moved and her leather pants just … but no. She was like twenty or something and way out of his league. “One of them was a wizard I think, but the other one didn’t seem to use magic. She was always flashing around her daggers when she wasn’t flirting with the guys.”
“Don’t you know anything? She must have been a spy of some kind,” Malten said with a laugh.
“Like spying on us?”
“No, I mean that not every mission is all about fighting. If it was a Purple and Gold squad then they often have female spies on them to go places that men can’t go.”
Jackson thought about it for a moment, remembering how Leyna carried herself and the way she interacted with everyone. He supposed that Malten could be right, but something from his upbringing just wouldn’t allow him to think that it was okay for women to be excluded from the academy. “Okay maybe you are right about them, but don’t women need to learn the same things that men do if they are going to rule as nobles?”
Scoffing, Malten said, “My papa says that the only place a woman rules from is her back.”
“What? That’s no way to talk about a woman. If my mother heard you say that, she’d tan your backside.”
At that point, the discussion started to degrade into a squabble. Till Jackson finally said, “Fine, whatever. So what about the girls from foreign countries?”
“Why are you so interested in the girls? I mean I guess Gianna is pretty, but she is a royal princess. She will probably be married off to some duke or some such to bind a noble house to the throne in Miromar.”
“Where I come from, both girls and boys attended school together, so I just want to know about all of my classmates. I don’t even know where Miromar is anyway,” Jackson said.
“It’s a country to the south down by the Sun Elves. Things are pretty good between Albia and Miromar because we don’t share a border with them the same way that we do with Faelora, but enough about geography. If you want to get to know the rest of the students, you should come to the lounge with me,” Malten said with a hopeful tone.
“Fine, but first you have to show me around the rest of the school,” Jackson said and Malten’s grin disappeared ‘till Jackson added, “Then I’ll go to the lounge with you.”
A little more than an hour later, Jackson had a rough idea of how to get to all of his classes as well as the teacher’s offices, the guard shack, the dining hall, infirmary, and the three chapels. Apparently, as a first-year student, he would be expected to do everything on campus including buying his own supplies from the commissary. He would only be allowed to leave the academy grounds on certain holidays, the first of which wasn’t for almost two months.
When they finally arrived at the lounge, Malten was exceptionally excited to introduce Jackson to the other students. Little did Jackson know, that the next few minutes would have a great impact upon his life.
As they walked into the lounge, there were a number of the couches and chairs as well as a table with fruits and pastries on it. Around a low table between the seating was a group of six boys. They were playing some game with cards and dice.
Malten called out, “Hey guys!” His exuberance was obvious, but only a couple of the other boys looked up at him. That was until one of them noticed Jackson.
One asked, “So who’s that with you, Malten? Is it the new pretender?”
Malten’s face went ashen, but he clammed up as all the rest of the eyes in the room fell upon the two of them.
The biggest of them stood up. “It must be the little elfling who is pretending to be a noble of the kingdom.”
“I don’t know what your problem is with me, but my name is Jackson Nelson.”
Again the tall boy said, “Like I care what a half-breed’s name is. My name is Michael, not that you are really worth hearing it. You are dirty.”
Jackson was using all of his strength to restrain himself. “What have I possibly done to upset you so much?”
“Your very existence is an affront to the purity of our nation. We are a superior people, and yet you are tainted by heathen Moon Elf blood. What happened–did your father forget to take precautions when he was having fun with his pet moon elf, or was he a fool who fell for her dark seductions?”
Jackson wanted to scream. He wanted to punch Michael even though he was so much bigger. Yet his father’s instructions echoed in Jackson’s mind. He couldn’t control what another person said, but he could control how he let it make him feel. Still, as he left he couldn’t help but mutter, “Keep your bigoted views to yourself.” Curses and taunts followed him, and he ignored them all.
Jackson thought back to that night weeks ago when he first learned how difficult his mixed heritage was going to be for some to accept. His experience in Eris’ Rise with the reluctant acceptance of the villagers had given him a false expectation of what life in Eloria would be like. Yet for all of the beatings he had been taking and for all the racism which had been directed at him, Jackson didn’t want to leave the academy. It was still the best place for him to learn skills and make connections. His primary hope was that when he returned home to his parents he could convince his father to help level him up. He didn’t dare let slip the kind of treatment that he had been receiving because no deal with the king would prevent his mother from hiding him away.
The pain and isolation of having only one real friend taught Jackson a lot. He didn’t need or even want these people to be his friends, but he also didn’t want them to determine the fate of the world that he lived in. His mother had lectured for years about social justice, and now he was finally understanding it at thirteen years old. Well actually, fourteen here.
His birthday had been less than two weeks before they arrived in Eloria, but in his classes here, he had learned that the calendar worked differently in Eloria, or at least in Albia. They still had seven days in the week but only fifty weeks a year so that each year was exactly three hundred and fifty days long. That meant that he was just over fourteen years old here and less than a year away from adulthood.
Jackson didn’t know if he would be able to learn everything that the academy and its instructors had to teach him in the year he had left or if they would allow him to stay on after fifteen because of his late start. Still, it was something he hoped for especially if he could level up a bit and not be such an easy target. Most of the other students were around level nine. It became much harder and more dangerous to power level a child past Tier 1, but there were at least half a dozen students who had managed to do so. Jackson had also learned that not everyone was able to level up past Tier 1 and that very few of those who did were able to reach Tier 3. It didn’t seem like a fair game system, and he wondered what his dad thought about it. The time at the academy had taught him that Eloria was not just a world of conflict but of inequality–inequality enforced with iron might.
“Jackson …” He was startled to hear his only true friend at the academy, Tabor Eikhorn, the son and heir to one of the so called border barons in the west.
“Umm yeah, what?” He answered as he tried to sort out what he had missed.
“I swear to Mishpat that you have your head in the sky sometimes. Does everyone from wherever you come from daydream all the time? I would have thought by now that Michael and Silas would have taught you it isn’t safe to let your mind wander.” Jackso
n knew that Tabor’s stern tone was only partially genuine and partially in jest, but still a shadow passed across his face at hearing his friend mention two of his three chief tormentors.
“Well, uh, yeah sorta. People are always walking around looking at their phones and DM’ing people or posting memes. Most people aren’t very good at what my mom calls ‘being present.’” Jackson replied, knowing full well that half of what he said would just be gibberish to his friend.
“There you go again with your made up words. If you would die of thirst next to an open well, I would have half a mind just to leave you alone.” Tabor ramped up his teasing.
“But, if you didn’t have me along with you then who could you play nursemaid too?” Jackson asked in retort.
“Very true. I guess I shall have to keep you around to bask in the glory of my victories. Don’t worry, if you don’t graduate from the academy, my father always needs good stable hands.” The shared jest between them was one they had repeated many times but which the two friends never seemed to tire of.
The two boys both stood up at attention as they had been taught when they heard a voice behind them saying, “If you are quite done, it is time for us to be leaving.”
Walking around them was the source of that voice, the royal mage Gunidar. Both the boys knew him from their time at court but also from the few sessions they had in his Aspects of Magic class. Neither Jackson nor Tabor were overly interested in being wizards but knew enough to be respectful of the powerful man. One of the things that Jackson had developed was a sense of how strong any individual was in relationship to him. It was hardly precise, but it seemed as if he had a bit of a knack for it as he was able to pick out the truly powerful individuals.
“Why the king is allowing the use of limited resources just to send you on Erntedankfest vacation baffles me,” Gunidar mumbled under his breath.
