After saying goodnight to his new friends, and thanking Veldre once more for covering the bill, Klarion found himself once being escorted by J-65. As he followed her, he couldn’t help but think about how much better the day had ended than it had started. The Hearth & Ember had been the kind of place he hadn’t expected to find at the Imperial Academy — welcoming and unpretentious — and his new friends had made the experience even better. The easy camaraderie and acceptance had lifted the weight that had settled on his back as soon as he arrived. Klarion smiled, thinking of the laughter over dinner and the shared understanding that had formed so quickly between them. For the first time, the Imperial Academy felt just a little less daunting.

J-65’s footsteps were steady and measured as they walked down the street toward where Klarion would be staying. It turned out that the route they were taking was not a long one, but given the silence that the Sentinel kept as they made their way there, it seemed to take longer than it actually did. Klarion was starting to get the sense that it was out of the way when J-65 led him down a side street and he saw it for the first time.

The apartment he had been expecting was a manor instead. A towering structure, it stood at the end of the dead-end street behind a tall, heavy metal fence with bars that were capped with the crest of House Blacksword. It looked like something out of a forgotten age, solid and intimidating, yet eerily quiet. Given how late it was, and that there were no lights within any of the windows he could see from the street, Klarion guessed he would have to entire place to himself. While the estate was undeniably grand, there was no denying its somber aura.

On either side loomed buildings that Klarion could tell at a glance to be abandoned. Windows were broken or boarded up, ivy crept along the walls, and from what he could tell, the roofs were in need of a bit of work. The silence around the whole street was oppressive, as though the entire area was holding its breath.

It was not what he had expected.

J-65 slowed her pace as they reached the gates. The metal crest of House Blacksword gleamed faintly, almost as if struggling to share with anyone unfamiliar with the manor the strength of the scions that lived there. If any had lived there. Without ceremony, the Sentinel pushed them open, causing the metal crest to part down the middle. The high-pitched, scrapping creak as it opened told Klarion that no one had been by the manor in a while.

“This place is… large,” Klarion remarked, breaking the silence as he followed the Sentinel to the front door. “A bit too large for just me.”

J-65’s mask turned toward him for the first time since she had begun escorting him since the end of his meal. “This estate was built with purpose, but it has not been fully utilized. You are the first scion of your House to occupy it in quite some time. While owned outright by your family, the dorms on either side were taken from House Blacksword through various means and then allowed to sit empty as a way to drive a wedge between your House and the rest of the noble scions. As such, those that would have previously considered living here during their time at the Imperial Academy have been forced to live elsewhere. Only the residence for scions of House Blacksword remains.”

Klarion nodded, processing the information. “So, it’s not a deliberate choice of my family?”

“No,” J-65 replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “As the rules of the Imperial Academy prevent outside interference, your family had very little say in the matter. It’s simply an extension of the rivalry that has existed for centuries. It will be up to you to fill this space, lord, not just with wealth, but with the power of your name. Work hard, and eventually, you will be able to afford staff, tutors, and perhaps — when the time is right — restore your influence over this portion of campus.”

“I understand.” And he did. Sort of. The school currency system helped fill in some of the gaps, and he already knew it was largely up to him how, if, the House Blacksword faction was restored. “It comes down to working hard to make the changes I want to see.”

J-65 nodded again, her posture never wavering. “Indeed. Your instructors will provide more details on that, and as you progress, you’ll learn what’s necessary to gain the resources you need.”

They reached the front door, and J-65 pushed it open. Inside, Klarion looked at an impressive yet somber interior. At first glance, the manor had the feel of a fortress more than a home. A stone floor and a tall ceiling seemed to reinforce that impression with each step he took. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings and reliefs that depicted battles, victories, and family triumphs. All faded with age and covered with dust. The faint scent of old wood and stone lingered in the air, and the silence was even more present than it had been outside — broken only by the soft echo of their footsteps.

J-65 directed his attention to a small table that sat against the wall. Upon it was a neatly arranged stack of documents, and resting atop the pile was Klarion’s class schedule. As soon as his fingers touched the paper, it disappeared in a burst into green light and a System screen appeared in front of him.

1. Foundations of History — held in the Lecture Hall, Rm. 101.

2. Essence Studies — held in the Arcane Hall, Rm. 101.

3. Combat Studies — held in the Martial Hall, Rm. 105.

4. Etiquette and Courtly Manners — held in the Lecture Hall, Rm. 113.

“Your schedule for the year. You’ll find the faculty of the Imperial Academy will expect you to be punctual and diligent.”

The list was simple enough, but as Klarion minimized the screen, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement mixed with apprehension. He had known there would be classes, of course, but to see them laid out before him made everything that had happened today feel just a bit more real. Perhaps some small part of him had been expecting that, despite his induction into the system and the ceremony today, someone would tell him everything was a mistake and send him back on his way. But with the courses and the dates and times listed in smaller print under them on the System screen, that was no longer a possibility.

“The Foundations of History should be interesting,” Klarion mused aloud. “Though I’m not so sure what Essence Studies is. Hopefully, it has something to do with magic. Combat Studies should be fine as well. And… Etiquette and Courtly Manners,” he added, cringing inwardly. While he knew he was severely lacking in that knowledge, and that he would need to learn fast in order to do better navigating the complex and dangerous world of noble interactions, that did not mean he was looking forward to it. On Earth, yes there had been expectations and rules, but it had only ever felt impersonal as he had been less than a minor player in society at best. Never truly in the spotlight, never truly made to be the center of attention, and that was precisely what he was most worried about in this last class.

Some uncomfortable memories from his childhood chose that moment to surge to the forefront of his mind. He remembered his father’s insistence on public appearances when he had been sick. Klairon had been told he needed to make the right impression, which was to say that he needed to garner sympathy that would lead to more attention and support from the hospital where he was undergoing treatment. As an adult, he knew the importance of what he had done, but the sense of humiliation he experienced as a child still stuck with him. The fact that now he would have to stand in front of an entire room of strangers and adhere to strict rules of etiquette and courtly manners made him nearly as uncomfortable, even though he knew he needed it. But he could worry about all of that once he had his first class.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He turned to J-65, his expression full of gratitude.

“Thank you, J-65,” he began, his voice earnest. “For everything today. I know your duty didn’t extend to half of what you did — offering guidance, staying beyond the tour, bringing us to the restaurant. Valdre and Redrek mentioned how uncommon that is, and it means more than I can say.”

J-65 shifted her stance, her armor faintly clinking with the movement. For a moment, the impenetrable aura she carried seemed to falter. “It was nothing,” she said, though her tone betrayed a hint of awkwardness. “It’s my responsibility to ensure you’re adjusted to the Academy.” She paused, then added quietly, “And you didn’t seem like you’d had the best start.”

Her admission hung in the air for a moment, surprising Klarion. “Still,” he pressed, “you went out of your way. You didn’t have to, and I noticed.”

J-65 hesitated before speaking again, her voice softer now. “Not all Sentinels are… automatons of duty. Some of us still remember what it’s like to be on the outside looking in.”

Before Klarion could ask what she meant, J-65 stepped back, her posture straightening. “Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day for you, given that classes start.” With that, she turned and walked away, soon pulling the front door closed behind her and she stepped out into the night.

With J-65 gone, the silence in the room returned with full force. He focused his thoughts on what had just happened, namely why J-65, in her own admission, had decided to be so helpful. Since his arrival at the Imperial Academy, she had been professional, but more than that, she had been quietly supportive. Almost as if she had a vested interest in his success. From everything he had learned, the Sentinels were tasked to be the ever-present but not always visible guarantee of Imperial Academy security, tasked with ensuring that the students, especially the noble scions, remained safe and followed the rules. But J-65 seemed different. She had not just been efficient; she had gone out of her way to explain things, and to answer his questions, despite her earlier admonition that her role precluded her from doing anything that verged on teaching. The thought gnawed at him, but he hadn’t gotten an opportunity to ask her.

Klarion grimaced, trying to push the thoughts aside. He didn’t know her, and he had no way of knowing if she had any kind of deeper motivation. Maybe she was just doing her job as she saw fit. The fact kindness and care had been apparently part of that approach was noteworthy, but not enough by itself to indicate anything. Though he had to admit to himself, though everything she had done didn’t make her a friend, it might make her… something.

Shaking himself from his reverie, Klarion turned his attention back to the manor around him. He needed to focus, to push the thoughts of J-65 out of his head, even if just for now. Tomorrow, his first day at the Imperial Academy was set to begin. Everything from here on out would need to be a carefully considered move, and he couldn’t afford any distractions that could set him back or put him at risk. Not without the possibility of commensurate gains. He did not like thinking in such a way, but given everything that had happened today with Caspian, and the potential looming threat of others who had grudges against House Blacksword, he would just have to get over that.

Focus back where it needed to be, Klarion wandered deeper into the manor. His manor. His footsteps echoed off the polished stone floors, kicking up small clouds of dust as he tried to get a better feel for his new home. His new living quarters were expansive, even by the standards of noble housing that he had seen on the way here.

After a few minutes of wandering, he eventually found his way to the kitchen, which was surprisingly well-stocked. The shelves were lined with neatly arranged jars of preserved fruits, grains, and dried meats. There were fresh vegetables on the counter, as well as a large chest of ice with a selection of fresh fruit and meat cuts. Pulling open a drawer revealed a shining knife set. Finally, along the side wall was a variety of pots and pans, ready to be used with the stove and oven.

The sight was a bit of a relief. He had always been self-sufficient in the kitchen, cooking for himself what he could on the small salary he received as an assistant to a doctor back on Earth. While he felt somewhat tempted to put something together, his stomach was still pleasantly full from the dinner he had enjoyed at The Hearth & Ember. Leaving the kitchen for now, he continued his exploration of the manor.

The place was large, everything steeped in dark wood and polished stone, though again dust was everywhere. Walking up and down the halls, with their sharp angles and thick walls, continued to reinforce the impression the residence was, first and foremost, a fortress. Thankfully, despite that feeling, he came across enough rooms that he did not think it would be a problem to find a place for anyone else who needed to stay. Which he assumed would eventually happen, given the conversations about bodyguards and servants.

Eventually, he found what he assumed to be the master bedroom. The door opened to reveal a spacious room dominated by a massive bed with intricately carved woodwork. A heavy canopy draped over the bed, and what looked to be fresh sheets of a deep crimson embroidered with the Blacksword crest had been cleaned for use. Beyond a few bedside tables, a dresser with a mirror, and a low couch, the only other thing in the room was a large fireplace along one wall, cold for now but he would likely appreciate it once winter came. Actually, would there even be winter on the pocket plane? He knew more about acting like a nobleman than extraplanar manipulation, but it seemed like the seasons and weather might be something that whoever created this place might have a hand in. Guess he would just have to find out.

Taking off his greatsword and the harness it was in, he set it leaning against the side of the bed. He doubted he would need it, but it was better to have it close at hand. Disrobing, he folded his clothes as neatly as he could and then placed them on the dresser for tomorrow. Which is to say, they weren’t very neat. But since he was the only one staying in the manor, he would be the only one to know. Turning, he caught his reflection in the mirror. His body was more lean and toned than it had been a few weeks ago, which made sense, given all the training he had gone through with Alesin and Rolfun. The relative lack of fat, however, also made the scars that ranged up and down his body stand out that much more. While a part of him had originally been angry over the fact that his body had been ruined, as he had seen it, since arriving at Verdant VI, and then the Imperial Academy, he found they didn’t bother him as much. In fact, in a way, it made it a bit easier to make a break between the person he had been and the person he would need to become by necessity.

He turned away from the mirror and crawled into bed. Pulling up his access to the System, he fiddled with the options to set an alarm for the morning. It had taken a few days to figure it out, but Rolfun had been kind enough to walk him through it when he had asked. He set an alarm for two hours earlier than the class he would need to go to. That should give him enough time to get up, make breakfast, and then arrive early to class.

As he moved to close the screen, however, he noted that the cryptic messages he had seen during the end of the ceremony in the Amphitheater of Induction were still able to be pulled up.

Noble Awakening: Success

Bloodline Validation: Success

Character Sheet Modification: Success

Error: Unbound from Imperial Loyalty Constraints

Error: Inherited Prerogatives Locked

He furrowed his brow as he looked over the messages again. He still had only the vaguest ideas of what they meant. The first two, he could guess, as it was likely related to his identity as a noble, though the specifics were unclear. Probably some sort of verification process to grant him access to aura, majesty, and eminence, though he remained unsure as to what those were as well, nor why they had been accompanied by the physical and stat changes he had experienced. He had even less of an idea of what the errors might indicate. His eyes drifted down to the sole trait he possessed: Greater Soul Oath.

Klarion closed the screen. Leaning back in the bed, he rubbed his temples. How had he ended up in this situation, burdened with secrets before he even had a chance to learn the rules of this new world he was living in? No, he wouldn’t share this with anyone. Until he knew more and understood the implications, there was no way he could let anyone else know. The stakes were too high.

Setting that aside for the moment, he resolved to shift his focus to what mattered right now: school. The classes starting tomorrow, the people he would be meeting, and all the challenges ahead at this Academy. That is where his attention and focus belonged, and that was where he would keep them until his situation changed.

Mind made up, he settled deeper into the crimson sheets, the exhaustion of the day finally sinking its claws into him. He closed his eyes, willing his thoughts to quiet. Sleep was slow to come, but eventually, he drifted off. It was the best night’s sleep he had had in weeks.