Ashern City, 1st of Brightforge, year 315 UC

He gazed down at the letter in his hand for the third time today. It came last week unexpectedly, and it caught everyone by surprise.

Dear Bryan Blackwood,

We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the Reinhart Institute of War, a place where only the most promising of the new generation are chosen to refine their talents and lead the Roan Kingdom forward. Your demonstrated potential has earned you a position among the Institute’s distinguished ranks, and we look forward to welcoming you.

As a student of Reinhart, you stand at the forefront of a rising wave of mages who will shape the future of our kingdom. It is our mission to guide you through the refinement of your abilities and to prepare you for the responsibilities and challenges that lie ahead.

Classes will commence on the 20th of Harvestide, 315 UC.

We anticipate great things from you, Bryan, and are eager to witness the impact you will make upon Reinhart and beyond. May this be the first step in a long and distinguished path.

Welcome to Reinhart Institute of War.

With respect and expectation,

Headmaster Octavius Reinhart

Reinhart Institute of War

While the acceptance letter itself was nice, everyone who knew him knew that he was guaranteed a spot at the newly established military academy. The judges' shock at his performance after his test told Bryan that he would be accepted.

The real surprise was the second letter that was included with the first.

Dear Bryan Blackwood,

On behalf of the Reinhart Institute of War, we are honored to extend an invitation to the Reinhart Excellence Camp, a program reserved for the highest-ranked students of our incoming class. Your exceptional performance and potential have earned you this opportunity, which is extended to only a select few.

The Excellence Camp will commence on the 1st of Brightforge, 315 UC, and will span a month of focused training and advanced study. Here, you will receive specialized instruction from some of the most respected and accomplished instructors in the Institute. This experience is designed to help you refine your abilities, expand your understanding, and equip you with the essential skills and insights that will prepare you for the challenges and opportunities ahead.

As a top-ranked student, you have already demonstrated remarkable promise, and we aim to provide you with the guidance and tools needed to surpass your current limits. Through rigorous training and dedicated mentorship, we hope to assist you in reaching new heights of achievement, setting a powerful foundation for your journey with us at the Institute.

We look forward to witnessing your progress during this extraordinary opportunity. Please find your camp assignment details below:

* Rank: 1

* Dormitory: Rose Garden

Once again, congratulations on your invitation to the Reinhart Excellence Camp. It is a privilege to support students like you who exemplify the strength of our institution.

With respect and anticipation,

Headmaster Octavius Reinhart

Reinhart Institute of War

Bryan folded the paper back into its original shape before putting it into the envelope. After all this time, it was finally happening.

"What do you keep opening it for? You know nothing is going to change, don't you?"

A voice whispered in his ear causing Bryan to look down at his breastpocket.

Bryan glanced down at his breast pocket, where a small black head poked out, purple eyes shining. Zoltan, his jet-black, talking mouse, gazed up at him. They’d met years ago—or rather, Zoltan had made himself part of Bryan’s life—and the strange creature hadn’t left his side since.

The little mouse was his only friend, and it was the one thing he was grateful for.

Being trapped in a room all day, forced to read books on different mages, and spells until the knowledge could be withdrawn at a moment's notice. The white room is what he called it.

If that was all, then it would not have been half as bad. There was training after, which in eight cases out of ten saw him with broken bones that needed fixing. Then, he went right back to the room.

Day in, and day out.

Zoltan was the only spark he had in his life and his source of life beyond the walls he was given.

"Yeah, I know that. Just can't believe it is all, I finally get to leave that place and there is nothing they can do about it. I'm going to enjoy these three years of freedom as best I can."

Bryan put the envelope away in his pocket.

"I'd refrain from getting your hopes up. I keep telling you these academies aren't what you seem to think they are. You're not going to have the freedom to travel freely. It's a military academy, you'll be restricted to traveling on school grounds."

Zoltan reminded Bryan.

Bryan didn’t reply, staring instead out the window of the train cabin, letting the distant landscape lull his mind into silence.

Just then, Zoltan ducked into his pocket as the cabin door slid open, and a man built like a fortress stepped in. His black eyes fixed on Bryan, then swept the empty cabin before he closed the door and took the seat across from him.

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"Who were you talking to?"

The man asked as he closed the door to the cabin. He found the seat across from Bryan and took it.

"Myself."

Bryan responded without even taking a glance in the direction of the man.

Brandon grumbled a reply under his breath as he folded his arms over his chest. He disliked Bryan, as the boy thought he was better than everyone else around him. Not knowing that he was a pebble pretending to be a mountain due to the slight praises of some members in their organization.

Bradon did not see it. There was nothing special about him.

"We'll be arriving at the academy in five minutes. You understand the assignment you were given, correct?"

"Yeah."

Bryan waved his hand in the direction of Brandon.

"Find potential recruits for the organization at the academy, and if they are suitable recruit them. Figure out

"And?"

Bradon narrowed his eyes as Bryan seemed to forget a key aspect of his assignment for attending the academy.

Bryan sighed, a hint of irritation slipping through his next words.

“Make sure the duke’s daughter, Alessia Hayes, graduates.”

Babysitting someone he didn’t know—or care about—was the last thing he wanted. He’d chosen the Reinhart Institute on Zoltan’s recommendation, hoping it would let him slip free, if only briefly, from the Inquisition’s grip. But they’d pulled him back in, seeing his enrollment as a convenient opportunity to curry favor with the kingdom’s most powerful families.

Reinhart Institute of War was new, but its founder’s influence extended to the highest circles. Nobles and commoners alike could enroll, but only those with exceptional magic and potential were accepted. The academy promised elite training for the kingdom’s future defenders, all within Ashern City—far from the Inquisition’s headquarters and on the east coast where the wilds were still unpredictable.

A chime echoed through the cabin.

You've arrived at Ashern City - Reinhart Insititute of War.

The train slowed, and Bryan let the silence stretch between them for a final moment before Brandon stood, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a small, polished box. He held it out.

"Your father says he'll be in touch, so make sure you keep it close. Families aren't allowed on campus, nor are they to be involved in their children's education. But, no one ever said they can't contact you from their cabin in the mountains."

Bryan took the box from Brandon and pocketed it without even opening it.

"Now, let me walk you to the entrance. It's the least I can do."

With a resigned nod, Bryan grabbed his bag, packed with all the essentials he’d need at the academy, and fell into step behind Brandon. The man was not only his escort but also his assigned watchdog—a constant presence that would require regular check-ins to keep him informed of any developments within the academy. A hassle, to say the least, but Bryan was determined to fulfill his duties without complaint.

As they moved through the bustling station, Bryan spotted a few others in the same black and gold uniform: black slacks, black undershirt, and a fitted vest embroidered with intricate golden patterns. Every uniform seemed tailored to fit its wearer perfectly, a mark of the academy’s elite status and exacting standards.

Outside, Ashern City stretched before them, a fortress built as much for defense as it was for grandeur. The city’s thick outer walls enclosed miles of farmland where commoners and farmers lived, their homes scattered across the landscape like dots on a vast green canvas. Within the city’s walls, the population was divided across three distinct rings.

The outer ring housed the city’s lower-class citizens and daily commerce. Shield generators anchored each corner of the walls, providing protection against any hostile threats. Streets were packed, lively with vendors, artisans, and laborers going about their day. Even here, the city’s defensive intent was evident—every path was designed to manage the flow of people and could be transformed to block invaders in a heartbeat.

Moving inward, the middle ring held the homes of the middle-class and some of the upper nobility. This ring was smaller but afforded its residents greater access to the city’s amenities. Here, gardens and fountains softened the streetscape, while the residents enjoyed the security of being closer to the city’s heart.

As for the inner ring, which is where Bryan was headed was where the upper class stayed. Within the confines of their own bubble created by their own shield generator, they had nothing to worry about even from an outside threat. If one managed to breach the city walls, they would have ample time to plan an escape or way to fight back.

At the center of the inner ring stood the Reinhart Institute of War, occupying an entire sector of the city. The campus loomed in the distance, an imposing silhouette even from here.

The journey to the institute required passage through four heavily fortified gates. Each gate served as both an entry and a choke point, designed to funnel any would-be attackers into tight corridors, where city defenders could strike.

First was the main gate, the only direct entrance into Ashern City, built to funnel crowds but also capable of trapping invaders in a narrow passageway. To reach the heart of the city, one had to pass through a secondary gate, guarded by a full platoon of soldiers. Massive cannons lined the walls, trained on the lines of people awaiting entry.

"You are to head straight to the Nileth Hall for introductions, right?" Brandon asked as they passed through the last gate right before they arrived at the academy.

Even now from this distance, the institute peaked over the top of the walls.

Bryan was barely paying Brandon any attention, his mind was focused on all the activities he would be able to do. He was always told be here at a certain time, and to do this whenever they asked.

There was hardly any free will of his own to explore what he liked.

His father insisted that this was the best path for him, and he could understand why. Their family was ripped apart during a war between two noble houses leaving them with nothing but pieces to pick up. If it was not for the Inquisition, they'd have nothing.

The organization saved them and gave their family a chance at revenge.

Which his father desperately wanted. So much so that he left Bryan at the orphanage as a child while he went to make those who had wronged them pay.

That did not go as his father had planned, as the people responsible fled to the Holy Empire. The only piece of information that his father came back with was that someone within the nobility had betrayed them, and he had to find out who that was.

His father had hoped to solve all of this before bringing Bryan back home, but because he failed he came to get him sooner. The memory was a bit fuzzy at times as it happened ten years ago.

Bryan was not even sure why he cared so much for Ms. Kelly back then. It affected him to the point he needed constant treatment, and his father constantly apologized to him for leaving him.

In order to make sure no one close to Bryan would ever be harmed again, and that he could take care of himself. His dad chose to put him under the Inquisition's command, as they would teach him everything he needed to know.

The only good time he had there were the visits he had with his father. However, Veron was always away on missions trying to find out who killed his mother and sister.

Bryan could hardly remember either of them. He could see a woman with long black hair, but her facial features were absent. As for his sister, Bryan could not recall if she was older or younger than him.

Older, is what he was told but no one came to mind when he tried to recall moments together with her.

Sometimes he felt as if he was not himself, and he was living in someone else's body. Just a soul trapped in a life that was not their own. Similar to Zoltan's own experience.

Zoltan assured him that was not the case, but things were never as what they seemed. When Bryan wanted him to elaborate, the mouse said nothing and that it would all work out in time.

Time was something Bryan hated waiting on. He wanted things to happen when he wanted them to happen. But life did not work that way.

Brandon snapped his fingers in front of Bryan's face, forcing him to glance in the man's direction.

"Nileth Hall, correct?"

Bryan nodded once.

"Good, I would like to see it for myself, but I'm afraid that will be impossible. The order has secured me a spot within the inner district, I shall give you my address as soon as I know it myself. Once the term starts, you will have breaks every other week, so make sure you pay me a visit then."

Brandon told him before glancing out the window of their carriage.

"Ah, we have arrived."

"About time, this guy just never shuts up."

Zoltan transmitted to Bryan, which caused him to chuckle slightly.