Chapter 11: Arrival at the Rest Residence
The wheels of the carriage ground to a halt, and Robert Sigismund Rest felt the familiar lurch of inertia tugging at him as they stopped. He took a deep breath, glancing out the small window to the mansion beyond. It was the Rest Residence in Varsovia—a grand, imposing structure of white stone and intricate ironwork gates, guarded by enchanted constructs. The building stood tall, casting long shadows across the manicured grounds in the waning light of late afternoon.
“Master Robert,” Alexander’s voice called out from the front of the carriage. The man’s deep, calm tone brought a sense of steadiness that Robert had come to rely on. “We’ve arrived safely. Would you like assistance?”
Robert hesitated before shaking his head. He glanced down at his legs, feeling the familiar weakness in them. The long journey from Dracaena had been draining, even though he’d used “Levitate” to keep himself off the seat for most of the trip. His physical condition had never been strong—something he’d learned to live with but never fully accepted.
“No, thank you, Alexander. I’ll manage.” His voice, soft but steady, rang out in the confined space.
With a slight wave of his hand, he activated “Levitate”, gently lifting himself a few centimeters above the ground. The faint hum of magic thrummed in his ears as he hovered forward, slowly gliding out of the carriage door that Alexander held open. The cool Varsovian air brushed against his skin, bringing a sense of clarity to his mind.
“Welcome back, young master,” Peter Rest said quietly, bowing slightly. Despite being a distant relative, Peter was granted the prestigious position of Sejm Representative, and so far he had shown unwavering respect and loyalty.
Robert nodded in acknowledgment and moved toward the entrance of the mansion. A group of attendants and guards were lined up to greet him, bowing as he approached. Peter, an elderly man with silver hair and a carefully maintained mustache, followed behind him.
“We have arranged for your quarters to be prepared, and we have set up the study with all the books you might need for your upcoming year.” The senator’s voice was smooth and practiced, betraying no hint of the curiosity or concern Robert imagined he might feel.
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“Thank you, Peter. That will be all for now,” Robert replied, his tone neutral. He wanted to keep the interactions brief. The sooner he settled into the residence, the sooner he could begin planning his preparations for the upcoming school year.
As they walked through the wide corridors of the Rest Residence, Robert’s mind wandered to the coming challenges. The University of Varsovia wasn’t just any institution—it was where the heirs of noble families, military commanders, and skilled mages were trained. It would be a place where his weaknesses would be on display, where his reclusiveness would be noticed.
But it would also be a place where he could grow.
‘Focus on what’s ahead,’ he reminded himself, forcing his mind back to the present. He glanced at the portraits lining the walls, each depicting members of House Rest—strong figures, resolute faces. His eyes lingered on one in particular: Reginald Rest, his older brother, painted in all his youthful vigor before the plague claimed him at seventeen.
‘You’d have made a better impression,’ Robert thought, feeling a pang of loss. Reginald had been everything Robert wasn’t—physically robust, outgoing, a natural leader. But fate had taken him, leaving the responsibility of House Rest’s future to Robert.
Arriving at his chambers, he dismissed the attendants with a quiet thanks. The room was just as he remembered it: spacious, with tall windows overlooking the garden and a heavy oak desk littered with scrolls and books on magical theory. Robert settled himself at the desk, his fingers brushing against the rough parchment of a tome on summoning magic.
The task ahead was daunting, but he had to be ready. He thought back to the expectations placed on him by his father, Duke Sigismund Jon Rest, and the advice of his uncle, Archmage Frank Rest.
‘Prove yourself capable, Robert. Let them see that you are more than just the frail heir of Dracaena,’ his uncle’s words echoed in his mind.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Come in,” Robert called, glancing toward the door.
Alexander entered, his tall frame barely fitting through the doorway. “You seem deep in thought, young master,” he observed. “Nervous about the Academy?”
Robert hesitated before giving a small nod. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. This… place will be different, Alexander. There will be expectations and eyes watching for any sign of weakness.”
Alexander’s gaze softened. “You’ve faced challenges before, and you’ve proven yourself stronger than most expect. The Academy will be no different. And you won’t be alone.”
Robert offered a faint smile at that, appreciating the support. “Thank you. But for now, I think I need to plan my approach for the first day. Establishing a good impression will be crucial.”
“Of course,” Alexander said, bowing slightly. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts, then.”
As Alexander exited the room, Robert returned his attention to the book in front of him. He activated “Levitate” again, gliding up to reach a higher shelf where more advanced texts were stored. His eyes scanned the spines until he found one that caught his interest: The Principles of Arcane Authority.
Pulling it out, he hovered back down, flipping through the pages. His mind raced with potential strategies, spells, and interactions. The University would be a place of both opportunity and danger. He would have to be cautious but bold, reserved but assertive.
‘It’s time to show them what I can do.’
The sound of the city outside filtered in through the open window. Varsovia, the heart of the Commonwealth, was vibrant and alive, its energy palpable even within the secluded grounds of the Rest Residence.
Robert took a deep breath and set the book down. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear—he would not let the opportunity slip by.
Tomorrow, his journey at the University of Varsovia would begin.