As they stepped inside, the trio was greeted by not only the smell of roasted spices but also the soothing scent of roasted meats and baked bread. The interior was simple yet inviting, with wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling and tables crafted from polished mahogany arranged in snug clusters. A stone hearth dominated one corner, its crackling fire casting flickering shadows across the room empty of patrons. Shelves lined with books and jars of preserved spices gave the place a homely, lived-in feel. It was completely different from what Klarion assumed most nobility would be caught dead in.
A portly, grey-bearded dwarf emerged from behind the counter, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of J-65 before softening as he apparently recognized her. “Back again, eh? And with company this time,” he remarked in a gravelly voice, gesturing for them to sit where they pleased. J-65 inclined her head slightly but remained silent.
When none of the others moved, Klarion moved to sit at a corner table near the fire. A bit more worn down than the other tables, and having mismatched chairs compared to the complete sets elsewhere, for some reason he just felt it was the right spot to sit.
Klarion glanced at J-65. “Thank you for bringing us here.”
She gave a small nod in response. “I’ll wait outside until you are ready to head to your residence.”
Exchanging a nod with the departing J-65, the portly dwarf approached the trio’s table with a swagger, his heavy boots thudding softly against the wooden floor. He wore a leather apron across his broad chest that had a dusting of flour on it.
“Well now,” he began, his deep gravelly voice carrying a pleasant tone as he stopped at their table. “What’ve we got here? A trio of fresh-faced young lords gracing The Hearth & Ember tonight, eh? Welcome, welcome.”
Klarion glanced at Valdre and Redrek, who exchanged amused looks before turning back to the dwarf. His bright green eyes twinkled as he sized them up, clearly used to noble clientele, but treating them with the ease of an equal. Perhaps their arrival with J-65, even if she had left to go outside, had something to do with that.
“Name’s Ordran,” he continued, “owner, chef, and occasional bouncer for The Hearth & Ember. Now, what can I get for ye? Specials tonight include a stew I’ve got simmerin’ that’d make an orc weep for joy, fresh-baked bread with butter to match, and roasted greens for those wantin’ somethin’ lighter. Drinks too, o’course — tea, ale, or something stronger?”
Klarion took a moment to glance at the options scrawled on a chalkboard behind the bar before turning his attention back to Ordran. The dwarf’s expectant gaze felt almost like a test of character, through his twinkling eyes suggested he’d be equally pleased no matter what Klarion chose.
“I’ll have the stew,” Klarion said, deciding to go with something hearty. It had been a very long day. “And some of that bread you mentioned — sounds like it’s exactly what should be going with a stew like you described.” He hesitated before adding, “Just water for now.”
Ordran gave him a brief nod. “Solid choice, young lord. Can’t go wrong with the stew. Now, how ‘bout you two?”
Valdre, adjusting his glasses with a thoughtful expression, leaned slightly forward. “Do you have a vegetarian option for the stew? If not, I’ll just take the roasted greens and bread.”
“Vegetarian stew?” Ordran raised a bushy eyebrow. “I can whip somethin’ up — might take a bit longer, but I’ll make sure it’s worth the wait. ”
“That would be perfect,” Valdre said with a smile. “And tea, please.”
Ordran had barely turned to Redrek before the hobgoblin was already giving his order.
“Give me the biggest cut of meat you’ve got,” Redrek said with a grin that put all of his sharp teeth on display. “And some ale to wash it down.”
Ordran chuckled. “A lad after me own heart. Coming right up, young lords.”
The dwarf wasn’t kidding. Barely had they gotten their orders in before the food was already at their table. Since neither of his new friends seemed surprised, Klarion put it down to some skill or ability that Ordran had, or perhaps magic of some sort. He could not wait until he finally got a better handle on what everyone else in his class would likely consider common knowledge. Regardless, it was easily the best stew he had ever tasted. The meat and vegetables were spiced to perfection and practically fell apart in his mouth. The bread was even better, especially with the sweetened, whipped butter it came with.
As they worked through their first bites, Valdre broke the silence with an observation. “You know, Klarion, that Sentinel is… different.” He dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin before continuing. “I’ve seen plenty of Sentinels today, but none as engaged as yours. Escorting us here? Waiting outside? That’s not typical, especially since, as far as I can tell, their sole duties for the day were to get us all to the Amphitheater of Induction, take us on the tour, and then bring us to the socializing in that square we just left. That’s it.”
Klarion glanced toward the window where the faint silhouette of J-65 was visible, standing vigil outside the restaurant. He shrugged, a little self-conscious. “Perhaps she just takes her duties seriously. She’s been helpful since I arrived.”
Redrek chuckled, his sharp grin flashing briefly. “Helpful, sure, but from what I noticed, Sentinels aren’t that friendly. While I admit to having limited experience with them, I don’t think they are supposed to linger or escort students to cozy taverns.” He leaned back in his chair, gesturing with his fork. “That Sentinel is almost acting like she’s got a personal stake in your safety.”
“Maybe it has something to do with me being from an Archducal House,” Klarion suggested, though even he didn’t sound convinced. He had noticed J-65’s attentiveness but hadn’t given it much thought until his new friends brought it up. “I was just respectful. Isn’t that how you’re supposed to treat someone who is helping you?”
Redrek snorted. “Clearly you didn’t grow up hearing anything about the Sentinels of the Imperial Academy. They’re more like tools than people in the eyes of the administration here, let alone the nobility. Your Sentinel isn’t acting like a tool, though. She is acting… invested.”
Valdre leaned forward, pushing his empty plate aside. “It’s intriguing, to say the least.”
“Enough about Sentinels,” Klarion said, eager to change the topic. “Let’s talk about something less mysterious. For example, what do you two think of the Imperial Academy so far?”
Valdre sighed dramatically but obliged in changing the subject. “I’ve been here less than a day, and I already feel like I’m swimming with sharks. It’s all posturing and alliances. Honestly, if it weren’t for finding Redrek, and now you, I’d have long ago gone to hide in the apartment set aside for me.”
Redrek laughed at the dramatic half-elf. “Hiding in your apartment? That doesn’t sound like the great Valdre, seeker of ancient knowledge.”
Valdre flushed slightly. “I’ll have you know that seeking ancient knowledge doesn’t require dealing with arrogant noble scions and their endless power plays.”
Klarion chuckled at the duo. ”For my part, I hope that is the case. What about you, Redrek? Any grand ambitions at the Imperial Academy?“
Redrek smirked, pushing his own empty plate away. “Grand ambitions? Not exactly. I’m here because my father thinks it’s a good idea for me to ‘expand my horizons’ before joining the family business.”
“And what’s the family business?” Klarion asked, genuinely curious.
“Information,” Redrek replied, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “We trade in secrets, mostly beyond the territory of the Empire. My father thinks I need to learn how to navigate Imperial politics if I’m going to help expand our network.”
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“That sounds intense.”
Redrek shrugged. “It can be. But I like it. People are fascinating, and everyone has something they want to keep hidden. Finding out what that is? That’s the fun part.”
While Klarion smiled and nodded in response to what the hobgoblin was saying, he was already thinking that he would have to be extra careful around Redrek in order to protect his own secrets. At least until he knew him better and was sure he could be trusted.
“Remind me never to tell you anything incriminating.” Valdre grinned.
“Too late,” Redrek shot back, his grin matching Valdre’s. “I’ve already got dirt on you, Valdre. Don’t worry, though. Your obsession with ancient tombs is safe with me.”
The group burst into laughter, and Klarion found himself truly relaxing in their company, the easy camaraderie a welcome break from all the pressures he had experienced since arriving at the Imperial Academy.
As the conversation lulled, Klarion leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You know,” he said slowly, “when I first arrived, I wasn’t sure I would be able to make any friends here. Everyone seemed so… intense.”
Redrek raised an eyebrow. “And we’re not intense?”
“You’re different, I’ll give you that, but genuine. I appreciate that.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Valdre chuckled. “Once the semester starts, I’ll be too busy studying to be your friend.”
“Liar,” Redrek said, rolling his eyes. “It may have been less than a day since we met, but I know you are already planning how to drag Klarion into your tomb-raiding fantasies.”
Valdre opened his mouth to protest but paused, considering. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Klarion, what do you think? Want to go tomb raiding at some point?”
“If Caspian leaves me out of his games, I’ll be happy to join you.”
The mood of the table quickly grew somber at Klarion’s words, and he kicked himself for it. He wasn’t sure where that response had come from. It had just fallen out. But he couldn’t deny the fact he was worried about Caspian, and the other Archducal House scions if they felt similar to House Brightcoin.
“Games? They’re not games, Klarion,” Valdre grimly said. “That’s real competition. House Brightcoin and House Blacksword — rivals for centuries.”
“Yeah,” Redrek added, a little too cheerfully, “House Brightcoin doesn’t take kindly to anyone who might challenge their path to ever greater power, even if you haven’t done anything to them personally.”
Klarion let out a bitter laugh. “Well, that much I’ve gathered,” he said, staring down into his mostly empty glass of water. He mumbled, “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t even know, but apparently my mere existence is enough to make me a target.”
Valdre and Redrek exchanged a glance, then broke into laughter. At first, Klarion didn’t understand why, and it only deepened his sense of isolation. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re joking, right?” Valdre asked, wiping a tear from his eye as he composed himself.
Klarion looked at his new friends, their mirthful looks slowly starting to turn to confusion and concern as he did not respond at first. No. His reasoning from earlier still held. He liked them both, but he didn’t know enough about them yet. Perhaps later he would tell them the truth.
“All I can say is that I had an atypical upbringing for a scion of House Blacksword, which is why I might not know as much as I might wish.” That was not quite a lie, but still not close to the dangerous truth he wanted to keep hidden. For now.
“Ah, I get it now,” Valdre said. “You’ve been kept in the dark. Redrek?”
Redrek leaned in, nodding that he would take over. “See, Klarion, there’s been a battle for influence and power over this region of the Empire since it was founded, but it has really surged in the past few centuries as House Blacksword and House Brightcoin went at it. The other Archducal Houses take part as well, just to a lesser degree. Regardless, whoever wins, House Blacksword or House Brightcoin, will climb in rank and power, possibly even into a position higher than Archduke.”
“And that’s why they don’t only engage in honorable competition,” Valdre added. “Make no mistake: the animosity runs deep.”
Klarion his stomach tighter uncomfortably, especially given the meal he had just eaten. He had never heard of any of this, though in hindsight, he should have expected it. Every bit of history from Earth that he knew of involving the nobility and royalty of Europe had focused on the constant conflict and wars between them over wealth and power. To expect it to be any different here would be naive at best. He would need to add to his ever-longer list of things to do the goal of shifting how he looked at other members of the nobility as being not just someone to make friends with or to avoid but also potential allies or threats based on their goals and desires. If he wasn’t able to do that by himself, he would need to figure out if hiring a trustworthy tutor was possible. But that was a problem for another day.
“So,” Klarion said, his voice resolute despite the turmoil inside, “with peace not possible, I will need to get stronger. If I don’t, I can expect they will just keep pushing me around. Or arrange an accident to take me off the board.”
“Unfortunately, yes, those are your options,” Valdre agreed. “It’s times like these I am glad I only stand to inherit a barony.”
At Klarion’s frown, Redrek jerked his leg under the table, causing the half-elf to yelp in pain.
“Of course, that is where we would come in, as your friends,” Valdre said wincing, clearly rubbing his leg underneath the table. “We are not a true faction yet, but I’d like to think I have a bit to offer.”
“We both do,” Redrek chimed in. “We might not be glamorous allies, but I think we can be very resourceful. And I won’t mind getting my hands dirty,” the hobgoblin said with a feral grin. “I’m sure the experience of helping you out, Klarion, will help me get that much closer to the goals my family seeks for me to achieve.”
“Yes,” Valdre hastened to add, placing both hands firmly on the table. “I believe the same.”
“I appreciate that,” Klarion responded, and he did. While he knew he had a long way to go to get strong enough that he would not worry about Caspian, let alone the threats coming for Earth, he felt just the slightest bit more confident with his new friends at his side. Time will tell if that would be enough.
Ordran appeared at their table again, carrying a cloth and a pitcher in one hand, his other hand ready to gather their emptied plates. His approach was accompanied by a jovial grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“Well, would you look at this!” Ordran exclaimed, his voice full of good humor. “Three empty plates and three young lords lookin’ content. Warms an old dwarf’s heart to see customers appreciate the food.”
“Everything was excellent,” Klarion said earnestly, lifting his bowl and plate toward Ordran. “The stew was exactly what I needed.”
Valdre nodded in agreement, lifting his own plates to be taken as well. “I really appreciate you accommodating me with the vegetarian option. It was incredible.”
“And the meat was perfect,” Redrek added, setting his plate on top of the others in Ordran’s hand. He then leaned back, hands going to his stomach, which swollenly pressed through his school uniform. “That’s the kind of meal I could eat every day.”
Ordran gave a chuckle as he took their plates. “You’re welcome, young lord. Splendid customers you’ve been, not like most first-year nobles who come storming in here.”
“Oh?” Klarion asked. “What do you mean?”
Ordran leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Most o’ the young scions that wander in are too busy throwin’ their ranks around. Act like they own the place and try to order folks about. Always ends the same way — someone knocks ‘em down a peg. They usually learn quick, or they don’t last long.”
Ordran straightened back up. As he did, his sleeve slipped slightly, revealing a faded tattoo on his forearm. Though light, it still was unmistakable in appearance in the light of the tavern — a shield surrounded by a laurel wreath with fifty written below it. Klarion had no idea what it meant, but given how both Valdre and Redrek grew still at seeing it, he guessed they had some idea.
“You served in the Legions?” Valdre asked, his tone respectful but curious.
Ordran caught the direction of their gazes. He pulled back down his sleeve but gave a brief nod. “Aye, that I did. Fifty years too. Saw more than my fair share of battlefields and learned just as many lessons the hard way.” His gaze lost focus for a second, as though remembering his time in service to the Empire. Shaking his head, he focused back on the scions. “But that was a long time ago. These days, I keep my blade sharp in the kitchen.”
Redrek shifted in his seat, his tone full of respect. “Fifty years of service. That’s impressive.”
“Not much to it,” Ordran said modestly. “Just doin’ my part. Same as any dwarf of the Empire worth their salt. But enough about me.” He topped off their glasses with something that had an amber hue, then gave a sly grin. “You three have been fine company tonight, and I’ll remember that. If you ever find yourselves of a quiet meal or a friendly face, just know you can come back to The Hearth & Ember any time.”
“Thank you,” Klarion said sincerely. “For my part, I will definitely take you up on that.”
“You’re a rare find,” Valdre added, smiling. “It’s not every day I meet someone who treats young nobility like people and not titles.”
“Here’s to Ordran,” Redrek said loudly, raising his glass. Both Klarion and Valdre quickly followed suit. “The best chef and barkeep in the Imperial Academy!”
Ordran chuckled, but he was clearly pleased. “Flattery will get you everywhere, lads. Now, enjoy the rest of your evening.” The dwarf turned to leave, carrying the stack of plates back to the kitchen.
Klarion took a gulp of what Ordran had poured, expecting it to be a different ale than Redrek had tried earlier. He nearly sputtered when it turned out to be a bit harder than that. He could feel the heat going to his face already. It was certainly good though.
Valdre and Redrek chuckled in amusement at his face, clearly having thought to try a sip of the drink before going for a full gulp like Klarion. For a few minutes, they just enjoyed the taste of a good, stiff drink and the company that came with it. But as the glasses emptied, Valdre raised his glass in another toast.
“To unlikely friendships and surviving the Imperial Academy.”
Redrek clinked his glass against Valdre’s. “And to making life just a little harder for House Brightcoin.”
Klarion joined him, his smile the most genuine it had been all night.
“To new beginnings.”