Apparently, he had been inside the Amphitheater longer than he had thought, as when Klarion emerged back outside, it was to a cool evening air brushing against his face. Then again, given how many young scions had needed to go through the ceremony, it made sense that it would be quite a bit later. As he stepped fully out of the archway that led back into the Amphitheater, he nearly staggered at the returning weight of the greatsword on his back. Catching himself, he breathed out a sigh of relief that nobody had seen him almost fall over. Straightening his weapon, he made his way further outside.

Students had moved into clusters outside the amphitheater, many striking up conversations as they waited to be approached by Sentinels to be led on tours of campus. Looking around, Klarion saw no one he recognized, not even Hector whom he had just been speaking to. Likely he had already found another group to go on the tour with. For a moment, Klarion felt a pang of isolation. Based on the behavior of most of the other first-years, many were already on their way to forming groups, perhaps even alliances based on shared houses, histories, or ambitions.

He, on the other hand, was alone.

Klarion hesitated on the edge of the milling students, scanning the various groups that stood nearest him. He hadn’t noticed inside, what with the stress of everything, but now that he was paying closer attention, it wasn’t hard to see the divisions. Lineage seemed to be the most important factor in terms of who grouped with whom, as most of the scions nearby gravitated towards those possessing similar ranks, though there were a few groupings that seemed based on race, though those overlaps blurred the lines somewhat. From what he could tell, humans formed a slight majority of the scions, with elves and dwarves being the next most common, and then members of other races like beastkin being a bit rarer.

While the majority had found groups, there were outliers, like Klarion himself. Lone figures or pairs who had yet to find their place, hovering near the edges like scattered pieces of a puzzle. Some seemed content in their solitude, while others darted nervous glances, looking for a group to join. Time was running out, however, as already those groups farthest from where he stood had begun being escorted off by Sentinels that had been waiting outside. Apparently, tours of the Imperial Academy did not count as teaching.

For Klarion’s part, he remained at the edge of the milling students. His red-gold eyes caught furtive glances thrown his way, whispers darting between lips like invisible arrows. Everything that he was able to make out just seemed to further confirm what Hector had told him back in the amphitheater. Klarion exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. Joining one of these tour groups now would be opening himself up to questions he didn’t want to answer right now. At least until he had a chance to get his story straight.

He turned slightly, intending to wait in the shadow of the amphitheater until the groups had dispersed somewhat before he figured out what he wanted to do, when the sound of approaching footsteps made him stop. At first, he half expected it to be Hector approaching, but as he turned he saw the black-armored figure of the Sentinel who had escorted him earlier: J-65.

Though her featureless white mask still betrayed nothing, her movements in his direction were fluid, almost unnaturally so, as though she glided rather than walked. Klarion instinctively straightened as she approached.

“Lord Blacksword,” her voice was even and precise. “You appear lost.”

Klarion chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not lost. Just… considering my options.”

He glanced toward the nearest group, a number of Sentinels forming up to lead them on a tour. A few of the students still shot him glances. Yeah, there was no way he would be joining a group.

“Actually…” he began, then faltered. How could he phrase this without sounding foolish? He squared his shoulders and looked back at J-65. “Would you mind escorting me instead? By myself? Just a brief walk around campus. It would be… easier.”

For a moment, J-65 said nothing. Her silence stretched, heavy and unreadable, until she finally responded. “Very well. Follow me.”

Relief swept over Klarion, though he only nodded in thanks to J-65. She turned without another word, moving between the groups of first-years that still remained outside the amphitheater. Klarion fell into step behind her. They continued down the main pathway, but where the majority of groups were going left, J-65 led him right. The murmurs and bustle of the other students quickly began fading behind them.

As they walked, J-65’s voice was calm but carried a tone of authority as she began to explain the layout of the Imperial Academy to him. He did his best to listen as closely as he could since he knew he would soon have to begin finding his way around for classes once they started.

“The campus of the Imperial Academy is structured like a vast city unto itself, Lord Blacksword,” she began. “At the heart is the central square, where major events, announcements, and gatherings occur. From there, the grounds radiate outward in a rough spiral, with facilities organized by function and importance. The remainder of the campus is given over to various specialized facilities and the residences of all those, which I won’t have time to show you tonight.”

When she turned her mask to him, probably to make sure he was paying attention, Klarion nodded for her to continue.

“The central ring houses the administrative buildings, the Grand Forum, and the Central Archives — a repository of the Empire’s accumulated knowledge. The next ring out contains the various academic buildings, where students of all years spend much of their time.” She gestured to their left, down a side street that Klarion saw led to the next ring out. “We’ll start with the Lecture Hall, Martial Hall, and Arcane Hall set aside for the first years, which are clustered together in the quadrant ahead. These buildings will be where you go for your classes, starting tomorrow.”

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The Lecture Hall came into view first. It was a massive building of pale stone, its façade adorned with intricate carvings depicting what Klarion assumed to be instructors in the act of teaching. Towering pillars flanked the grand entrance, each inscribed with words and phrases that he could not quite make sense of. Large, arched windows reflected the evening light, their stained glass depicting crests of noble houses alongside symbols of learning. House Blacksword featured prominently in several places.

After giving him a few minutes to look, J-65 continued to walk, motioning for Klarion to follow. “The Lecture Hall is where more traditional instruction occurs. You’ll have your Foundations of History and your Etiquette and Courtly Manners courses here.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, and he could practically feel how hard she was staring through her mask. “You will need to pay close attention.”

“I thought the Imperial Academy would be a less traditional. I expected something more… unconventional for classes.”

J-65 spoke over her shoulder, “Unconventional is earned. For now, you will learn as all first-years do: in lectures, debates, and practical activities.”

Without waiting for a response, she led him over to the next building. Though J-65 did not say a word, Klarion could immediately tell that it was the Martial Hall. If the Lecture Hall was a temple to the mind, the Martial Hall was a fortress of discipline and power. The building was rectangular and solid, its walls hewn from dark grey stone. Hanging from the front of the building were banners that Klarion saw belonged to specific legions. Along the far side of the building was a massive metal fence, beyond which were what Klarion assumed to be sparring pits and training grounds. Though it was getting late, he thought he could hear someone out in one of the sparring pits.

“The Martial Hall is where you will begin to hone your proficiency in combat. All noble scions are required to learn the arts of war, regardless of the future roles they pursue within the Empire. As such, you will attend your Combat Studies class here. Whether you become a leader of legions, a frontline fighter, or simply a defender of your house, the training you will receive there is non-negotiable. Expect it to be both grueling and eye-opening.”

Klarion absorbed the information in silence, but his mind turned over the combat experience he had gained so far. Not a lot, given what Alesin and Rolfun had tried to explain to him about the threats always bearing down on the Empire. And he would need a lot more going forward if he was to have any chance when the System came for Earth.

“Live combat training?”

“Among other things,” J-65 confirmed. “Even the most learned scholar must know how to defend themselves against the kinds of threats that plague the borders of the Empire.”

Klarion frowned slightly. “And if they don’t?”

“They either learn,” J-65 responded flatly, “or they will wish they had.”

Finally, the Sentinel led him to what could only be the Arcane Hall. Klarion couldn’t help but slow his pace as his eyes widened. The building stood apart from the others, its design a sharp contrast. Tall and angular, the structure was capped by a large spire that covered what he could only assume to be magical lights of some sort. They flickered into different colors and shapes as he watched. The air outside the building even felt different — charged with some undercurrent of energy that made the hair on his arms stand on end.

“The Arcane Hall is dedicated to the study and practice of magic. For those with talent — or determination — it offers a place to unlock and refine their abilities. This will be where your Essence Studies class is held.”

While he was more than a little excited at the prospect of learning magic, real magic, there was one thing that had been bugging him as J-65 had been showing him the buildings he would be taking his classes in. Just where were all the other students? Shouldn’t there be hundreds of other first-year students on their own tours?

Klarion turned to J-65 as they paused near the towering Arcane Hall. The shimmering lights faded from his focus as he addressed her.

“Thank you for the tour,” he said sincerely. “It’s been helpful. But I can’t help but notice that there are not other students going about their own tours here. Given that there were hundreds at least in the Amphitheater of Induction, I thought there would be at least several dozen being shown the same buildings you have been showing me. Is there a reason for that?”

The Sentinel’s posture stiffened slightly, the faintest hint of hesitation in her usually fluid movements. She shifted her weight and tilted her masked face toward him, her voice carefully measured when she finally replied.

“I assumed you might prefer it that way,” she began, the faintest nervous edge creeping into her tone. “When you returned outside after the ceremony in the Amphitheater of Induction, your body language seemed… tense. Like you didn’t want to deal with anyone else. I thought it would be better to avoid the crowds of other students for now, so I adjusted the route. I’ll be taking you back to the Central Archives after this, where most of the tours started.”

Klarion blinked, completely caught off guard by her admission. And why was she nervous?

“You adjusted the tour? For me?”

“Yes,” J-65 said, almost too quickly. “If I was mistaken, I — I’m sorry if I made an error in judgment.”

The unexpected vulnerability in her voice struck Klarion. For someone who had been so composed and capable with him up to this point, her unease felt out of place, almost alien.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he was quick to assure her, the words flowing instinctively. “In fact, I really appreciate it.”

She straightened, the tension in her stance easing slightly. “Truly?”

“Yes,” Klarion said, offering her a small but genuine smile. “I wasn’t looking forward to navigating awkward introductions or dealing with still more whispers behind my back. This,” he gestured to their quiet surroundings, “was better than I had hoped it would be. Peaceful even.”

For a moment, J-65 seemed to relax. “I’m glad you found it suitable, and that I was able to assist you, Lord Blacksword.”

Klarion flinched at the formal address but said nothing. The title still felt alien to him, but he could hardly fault J-65 for using it. After all, it was likely the case that she was trained to address any of the scions formally. Rather than bring attention to it, he shifted his focus.

“So, after the Central Archives, what happens?” he asked, glancing at her mask.

“The formal tour concludes. You’ll be expected to attend the evening social events, but those are not mandatory. The rest of the night is yours.”

“Social events,” Klarion muttered, his lip twisting in faint displeasure. “Sounds fun.”

Her tone lightened with a trace of humor. “If you find yourself avoiding them as well, I can provide further assistance.”

Klarion chuckled despite himself. “I might hold you to that.”