The moment the door burst open with a thunderous bang, every conversation across the classroom cut off to silence as heads whipped toward the sudden commotion. Some few students even reached for weapons.
In strode the woman wearing black robes trimmed in silver that swirled about her as she strode into the classroom. Her posture was straight, each step measured with a precision that radiated control.
That moment she stopped to face the class from the podium before the central chalkboard, Klarion knew Foundations of History was going to be amongst the hardest classes he’d be taking at the Imperial Academy. Her hair, a striking black streaked with silver, was drawn into a severe braid that framed her face like the hilt of a finely honed blade. Her dark violet eyes swept the room, sharp and penetrating as if dissecting every student that had been assigned to her class. They landed briefly on Klarion, who instinctively sat a little straighter under her gaze, though her eyes swiftly continued on to the next student. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady but carried a weight that commanded the attention of everyone in the classroom.
“Welcome,” she began, “I am Professor Elara Mordrane, and this is Foundations of History. This course will not be a casual exploration of dates and dusty texts. It is a guided excavation into the roots of our Empire — how it rose from the fractured remnants of a Multiverse at war, weathered countless invasions, and became one of the dominant forces under the purview of the System.”
Professor Mordrane gestured behind her, and with that flick of her hand, words began appearing on the centermost chalkboard. At the top appeared her name, and underneath soon appeared a timeline stretching from a jagged line labeled Establishment of the Empire to the present day. Major events and eras began to appear like tributaries from a river, glowing faintly as they appeared, but before Klarion could get a closer look, his attention was again taken by Professor Mordrane as she continued to speak.
“This is not just a chronology,” Professor Mordrane continued, her voice rising slightly. “It is a map. Each of you, as future leaders of the Empire, must know have to navigate it. To understand where we are going, you must know where we have been.” Her eyes scanned the room. “This is the first step in your education as future stewards of the Empire. Fail to grasp the lessons I will be teaching you, and you are not just failing yourselves — you are failing the countless lives that depend on your competence.”
Her eyes scanned the room once more, but this time Klarion could have sworn he saw the barest hint of approval directed at those who were in the process of taking notes. He rushed to do the same.
“Now,” she said, her tone shifting slightly to one of pragmatic instruction, “let me outline how this course will unfold.”
With another flick of her hand, a structured list appeared on the leftmost chalkboard. It was divided into weeks, each labeled with a specific theme or era: The Veil of Fury, The Founding of the Empire, The First Age of Expansion, The Void Wars, and so on. Given how they sounded, Klarion was getting the impression that this course was the equivalent of a college introductory history course.
“This course in divided into three primary sections,” Mordrane explained as she began to slowly pace across the front of the classroom. “The first will focus on the Empire’s origins — how it was forged out of the chaos of The Veil of Fury. You will study the decisions that shaped the initial structure of the Empire and the individuals who helped create it.”
She paused, letting the words sink in as the frantic scratching of notetaking filled the room. “The second section will cover the Empire’s greatest trials. You will be exposed to lessons on internal strife, external invasions, and near-catastrophic events that tested the very capacity of the Empire to survive.”
Professor Mordrane stopped pacing back at the podium, again facing the class directly. “Finally, we will spend some time on the modern era. I will warn you now. This will be the most difficult part of the course because it requires you to think critically about the current state of the Empire and its future.” Her violet eyes narrowed. “Make no mistake. My standards are high, and I expect each of you to meet them.”
Again, the only response to Professor Mordrane’s firm declaration was the rapid scratching of notetaking. Klarion’s hand moved swiftly as he tried to jot down her words as well as the structure of the course as outlined on the chalkboard.
“Now,” Professor Mordrane said, her tone softening just slightly, “I encourage questions. History is not a monologue; it is a dialogue between the past and the present. If you do not ask, you will not learn.”
Almost before she was finished speaking, a hand shot up near the center of the room, an elf student with short blond hair and a confident posture. As soon as the Professor pointed to him, he spoke his question. “Instructor, could you clar—”
“Instructor?” Her voice practically sliced through the air, cold and precise. “As I informed you at the start of class, I am Professor Mordrane.” She cast her glare across all the students in the class. “Let me make this abundantly clear to all of you. In this class and some few others, there are no commoners. As future leaders, the Empire, and I, expect you to know how to observe and address rank appropriately.”
She turned to the massive chalkboard directly behind the podium. With a vicious thrust of her fist, the timeline that she had caused to appear abruptly disappeared in a burst of white chalky smoke. A slashing motion led to a new line of words to begin appearing in its place. It quickly became clear that each new line was gradually revealing a detailed breakdown of the ranks and responsibilities of the faculty and administration of the Imperial Academy.
“Here,” she said, violently gesturing at a category near the top labeled Full Professors of Rule. “These are the individuals, myself among them, who are in charge of teaching you the intricacies of history, politics, trade, and other practical learning.” Professor Mordrane then gestured to her to her shoulder, turning as she did to present it to the class. Prominently displayed was the symbol of crossed silver scrolls. “This is the symbol of the rank I earned. I have not been an instructor in decades. Pay attention to your teachers, and their ranks, and address them accordingly. Some are a bit more sensitive than myself.”
Given that Professor Mordrane seemed to be ready to spit fire at being addressed incorrectly, Klarion promised himself then and there that he would do all he could to address the faculty of the Imperial Academy properly.
“This, students, is how the Empire maintains order. Respect the chain of command, or you will find yourself at odds not just with me but with the leadership of the Empire itself.” Her gaze focused back on the blonde elf, who sank into his seat, his cheeks burning red and his original question forgotten amidst the embarrassment.
With no question forthcoming now, Professor Mordrane returned her attention to the class as a whole. “Now, a question of my own: why do you believe this course, Foundations of History, is required of all noble first-year students?”
For a moment, silence reigned, likely due to fear of being the next student targeted by the Professor’s temper. Finally, a hand went up near the back, down a few rows from Klarion. It was tentative at first, but firming as the student spoke. “To understand the origins of the Empire and learn from its past mistakes?”
“A simplistic answer,” she replied, and though the words weren’t what Klarion would have chosen, her tone this time had no sting in it. “The history of the Empire is not merely a tale of triumphs and defeats. It is a blueprint for survival — your survival. You will study not just the events but the structures and strategies that have allowed the Empire to endure against so many threats these past millennia.”
Her hand moved again, summoning a map on the rightmost chalkboard from where Klarion sat. Vast and sprawling, with what looked to be almost a pox of dots of various colors in places, it wasn’t until a central blue dot labeled ‘Imperial Academy - West’ appeared that he realized he was looking at a map of the region of the Empire he was currently in. A ripple of interest spread throughout the class, some students whispering to neighbors about parts of the map they recognized. While interesting to himself, Klarion did not bother jotting down any notes on the map itself. There simply was too much detail, and too many places, to be able to get even the roughest of notes on it.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
A sharp voice broke through the classroom. “Professor,” a human girl with red hair interrupted, her tone practically dripping with the confidence of someone used to going unchallenged by others. She sat in the front row, her posture almost regal.
“Yes, Marentia?” Mordrane responded, her tone still, but her eyes were focused on the young scion before her.
“If the Empire is so great,” Marentia began, “why does it continue to rely on brutality? Surely, as a civilization, we should have moved past such barbaric practices as now.”
A heavy silence fell over the room. Some students leaned forward, eager to see how the professor would respond. Others slouched back, anticipating a verbal lashing, if not worse. For his part, Klarion expected that Marentia may just have asked her first and last question in the course.
Professor Mordrane tilted her head slightly, and for a moment Klarion almost thought he was looking at one of the Sentinels without their mask. She studied Marentia as one might study an intriguing but flawed specimen.
“A noble sentiment,” Professor Mordrane said finally, her tone far colder than before. “But also a profoundly stupid one.”
Marentia flinched as if the professor had physically struck her. The rest of the class was stunned, whispers breaking out like scattered embers. Professor Mordrane let the noise linger for a moment before she raised her hand for silence. She received it at once.
“Allow me to explain,” Professor Mordrane said, again stepping out from behind the podium to pace the front of the classroom. Her robes swept behind her like a dark tide. “In your sheltered upbringing, Marentia, you may have been taught that strength is unnecessary when diplomacy can prevail. That is wrong.” She held up a hand in emphasis. “Diplomacy without strength is an open invitation to annihilation. The Empire’s practices — brutal, as you call them — are the shield that keeps each and every one of us alive. The Rhalgyr Incursion. The Shardfall Conflagration. The Harrowing of Ashenvale III. What kept our enemies at bay after each? Negotiation? No. Thousands of Imperial Legionnaires who held the line until reinforcements could arrive to beat back the invaders.”
Her voice rose slightly, commanding the attention of the class. “Brutality is not the absence of civilization, Marentia.” Professor Mordrane stared down at Marentia, who stared straight ahead, her face turning pale. “It is its foundation. The laws you take for granted, the luxuries you enjoy, this Academy itself — all these are built on the understanding that the Empire will not hesitate to do what is necessary to protect its people and its future.”
Marentia sank into her seat, saying nothing further. Her point made, the Professor turned back to the rest of the class, her eyes alight with intensity.
“History will teach you this truth repeatedly,” Professor Mordrane concluded. “The Empire endures precisely because it refuses to coddle itself with illusions of peace in a Multiverse that thrives on chaos. Now, are there any other questions? If so, ask now, for next session we will begin in earnest.”
She stepped back to the podium, the weight of her words still lingering in the air. For Klarion, it was not just her conviction that struck him, but the raw pragmatism inherent in her argument. That it was calculated violence and ruthless efficiency that kept everything moving forward. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, grappling with what she had said. It wasn’t that he disagreed entirely — he had seen enough of the underbelly of Volkstrum growing up to understand the necessity of strength — but it still gnawed at something deeper within him. Yet, as he looked around the room, he saw no protest from his fellow scions. Most sat in stunned silence, some nodding in agreement. To his side, Hector leaned slightly forward, his expression tightening. The other scion’s eyes narrowed, almost as if he was weighing the professor’s words against his own understanding of power. Klarion caught the faintest of nods from him, though whether it was in agreement or simply in acknowledgment of the argument was unclear.
He wondered if their acceptance came from understanding or fear of defying the system.
Perhaps intimidated by the deftness with which the Professor had eviscerated the argument put forth by Marentia, the only questions asked for the rest of the class were those focused on the course’s structure and objectives. A student in the second row, too far off to the side for Klarion to get a glimpse of him beyond the back of his head, asked about the primary assessment for the course. In perhaps the most normal response he had yet heard from anyone about, well, anything, at the Imperial Academy, Professor Mordrane stated that passing the course depended on how students did on the comprehensive, written final exam.
Another student, perhaps emboldened by the almost polite response of Professor Mordrane, asked about the recommended reading list. She replied that the texts were known to all the Librarians at the Central Archives and that they would be able to help. Apparently, supplementary texts could be purchased with Knowledge Coins.
Over the course of the other questions asked and answers given, Klarion began to note that the Professor appeared to be balancing a clear syllabus with an expectation of personal initiative. Responsibility for succeeding in the class would be solely up to the student. Most was easy enough to remember, but to his side, Hector was still dutifully jotting every answered question down.
Eventually, she raised a hand to signal that the opportunity to ask questions was over. “That will suffice for now,” she said. ”You will have ample opportunity in the future to ask more questions, but this class is almost over and I have two more announcements that I need to go over with you all. Both will be of supreme importance to whether or not you make it past your first year.”
She gestured at the chalkboards, each going blank once more before the words Unlocking Your Class appeared.
“As many of you are aware,” Professor Mordrane continued, “your academic studies, while crucial, are not the sole measure of your progress here at the Imperial Academy. Beyond your coursework and exams, each of you will be required to unlock a class before you will be allowed to progress to your second year. You might get perfect scores in every class, but without a class, it won’t matter.”
A murmur rippled through the room at this revelation. A good number of students didn’t seem surprised. Though Klarion knew Rolfun and Alesin each had a class, and his own character sheet indicated he himself would be able to get one, he still did not know that much about the process of unlocking one. His experience with various RPG books and games on Earth had usually made class something you picked at the start of your adventure, or something you earned through completing tasks for some trainer or another. Relatively few took the path of making you stumble along until you figured it out. Thankfully it seemed Professor Mordrane was going to explain the process.
“Unlocking a class is not simply about gaining levels or earning achievements, though both will inevitably be a part of the process. No, it is about matching your path — your purpose within the Empire, as you see it — with one that best complements you. Whether you aim to be a soldier, a scholar, a diplomat, or something else, your innermost desires will gradually lead you in the right direction.” She let out a sigh of frustration. “A colleague of mine, damn his soul, likened it to finding yourself in order to find your class. I think that grossly oversimplifies the process, but at its core, you might begin thinking about what you all must do in this way.”
Mordrane’s expression softened slightly as she noticed that a good number of the scions in the classroom were clearly nervous about figuring out what to do. “This journey you are about to start is deeply personal. There is no singular method, no universal guide, though this Academy has extensive records on both that will help you should you aim for particular classes that are known. Indeed, some of you will end up making one such guide work for you through diligent study and research. Others may discover it through combat, exploration, even moments of profound introspection, all while requiring an extensive list of resources to force it open for them.” She cleared her throat, voice elevating once more, “While I cannot tell you what you must do to unlock a class, I can and will offer guidance to all who ask. The first piece of advice I have is thus: begin by examining your strengths, your interests, and your ambitions.”
Klarion’s mind raced as he processed the information. On the one hand, the idea of a single thing he had to do to make it through to next year was a relief, but on the other, the sheer openness of the task before him was daunting. While he appreciated the advice of Professor Mordrane, when he had been back on Earth it had taken him years to decide that he wanted to become a doctor. How was he supposed to determine his class, something that seemed to be a far more fundamental part of his being in this new existence he found himself in, all in the course of a single academic year? What if he took the wrong approach and failed completely? Would that kill any possibility of his being able to get strong enough to save those he cared about back on Earth?
The Professor’s voice once more interrupted his thoughts. “I encourage each of you to use your time wisely. Attend your classes, yes, but do not neglect this larger purpose. Seek out the advice of other faculty, explore the library, and participate in any activity that pushes your stats to the limits. Gaining levels is also a good idea. Do whatever it takes to gain the insights you need, for failure is not an option that the Empire will tolerate.”
Klarion felt a knot tighten in his stomach, but he forced himself to remain calm. This was just another challenge he needed to overcome. He could, no, he would succeed.