Ronan sat at the heavy oak desk in the study. The air in the room was thick with the scent of old parchment and polished wood. His fingers traced idle patterns on the edge of the desk as Tobias stood before him with a large map spread across the board.

It was so amazing that he could actually read and understand the language. Magic was convenient.

“We will begin with the Ravencia Empire,” Tobias started, his voice calm and measured. “Ravencia is one of the oldest and most powerful empires in the known world, though you might not have heard much of it in your previous life.” He gestured toward the map, where the empire sprawled across vast lands, its borders clearly defined.

Ronan’s eyes traced the map, lingering on the strange, almost unnatural shape of the empire. The crescent of land seemed to cradle the circular island in the center, Soleas. It felt deliberate, like the empire had been designed that way, cut off and protected. The way the Midlands connected the crescent to the capital reminded him of a bridge, holding everything together. Without it, the capital would have been an isolated dot in a sea of nothing.

It looks like it’s protecting itself from everything, he thought, narrowing his eyes. The vast expanse of water around Soleas made it seem even more distant, unreachable. It was as if the empire’s rulers had drawn the lines themselves, keeping the heart of power far away from the rest of the world, both inside and outside the borders.

Ronan let out a small breath. Makes sense, he mused. Keep the important people far away from the ones that struggle.

“Historically, Ravencia has been an isolated empire,” Tobias continued, his finger tracing the empire’s borders on the map. “It does not seek relations with neighboring kingdoms, nor does it involve itself in foreign matters. The empire values self-sufficiency, relying on its own resources and strength rather than alliances. In fact, the world maps, if there exist any in the empire, are not in circulation.”

Ronan’s eyes followed Tobias’s hand as it moved, but his mind was already wandering slightly. Isolation. Self-sufficiency. He didn’t know much about politics or anything for that matter, but he was sure that was fishy.

Ronan frowned, leaning forward slightly. “That doesn’t sound suspicious at all,” he muttered. “Why wouldn’t there be maps? Or why keep them hidden?”

Tobias paused for a moment, as if expecting the question, then nodded. “It may seem odd, yes. But there are a few reasons behind it.”

He straightened, his tone becoming more formal. “First, security. Ravencia’s rulers have always believed that knowledge of the empire’s geography could be used against them. By limiting access to detailed maps, they prevent foreign powers—or even internal dissenters—from exploiting any weaknesses in its defenses.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt. The idea made some sense, though it felt paranoid.

“Second,” Tobias continued, “control. By keeping the outside world distant and unclear, the empire maintains a kind of unity. The people of Ravencia are less likely to seek out foreign lands or ideas if those places are unknown to them. It strengthens loyalty to the empire, because there’s nothing else to compare it to.”

Ronan let that sink in. It was strange, but he could see how that might work. If you didn’t know what was beyond your borders, why would you care about it?

What he was actually surprised by was how they were being so blatant about it.

“And finally,” Tobias said, his voice taking on a more serious note, “the last reason is tradition. Ravencia has always been an isolated empire. For centuries, the emperors have kept the outside world at arm’s length, believing that Ravencia should stand alone. This mindset has shaped everything from its military policies to its education. The empire does not share its knowledge lightly, nor does it seek to gain knowledge from others.”

Ronan frowned again. “So... no one’s curious? No one ever wants to know what’s out there?”

Tobias’s expression didn’t change. “Curiosity is natural, but in Ravencia, it’s often discouraged. The empire is vast enough that most citizens never feel the need to look beyond its borders. Also, Ravencia being surrounded by water from all sides helps reinforce this tradition. The only side that is not surrounded by water is the Cliff of Isolation, which is a dangerous location. For those who do want to venture outside, well... there are ways of ensuring they remain loyal to the empire.”

The Cliff of Isolation?

“Is the Cliff of Isolation…”

Tobias nodded, “Yes, it is the cliff which is near the slums of Ironhold.”

The cliff where his sister had died. His grief tried to bubble out like lava. But he slowly tried to shake it off. It didn’t help much, but he tried to ignore it.

“The empire has a long history,” Tobias continued, his tone still even, “dating back over a thousand years. It was founded by Emperor Vaelor I, a ruler who unified the fractured clans and smaller kingdoms that once fought over this land. He forged the empire through both military strength and diplomacy, establishing a central authority that has lasted through the centuries.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow slightly. It was still strange to imagine a place that didn’t seem to care much about the rest of the world. But no one cared about anyone in this forsaken world.

“Over time, Ravencia has developed a unique culture—focused inward, on its own people, its own lands,” Tobias explained. “The empire’s economy thrives on its own resources—metals from the mountains, fertile farmlands, and rich trade routes within its borders. There is little need to rely on trade with other kingdoms, which is why Ravencia remains a mystery to much of the outside world.”

Ronan shifted slightly in his chair, trying to focus despite the slight ache still lingering in his head from the memory retention process. The history didn’t exactly interest him, but he knew he needed to listen. This world he had been thrown into operated on rules and traditions that stretched far back, rules he barely understood.

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Ronan’s gaze flicked to the map again. The isolation Tobias described seemed both like a strength and a weakness. A place that didn’t rely on anyone else could be strong... but what happened when things fell apart inside those walls? He didn’t ask the question aloud, though. It felt like the kind of thing no one would answer anyway.

Tobias paused, letting the weight of the empire’s history settle before continuing. “It’s important to understand that while Ravencia remains isolated, it is not stagnant. Innovation and progress are key to its strength. The empire prides itself on advancing in areas like magic, science, and military strategy. That’s part of what makes Ravencia so formidable, despite its lack of external allies. And as you know, the Lumenbourg University of Mystical, Combat and General Studies, which you have been accepted into, being one of the biggest powers in the empire.”

Ronan leaned back in his chair, trying really hard not to judge. This empire was like a fortress—strong, impenetrable, self-reliant. But something about it still felt... fragile. He didn’t know why, but the idea of all this power, focused inward, made him uneasy.

“And how do the people fit into all this?” Ronan finally asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Tobias glanced at him, his expression a little stoic. “The people of Ravencia are proud of their empire.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back a scoff. “Yeah, sure. Proud. Maybe the ones who aren’t fighting for scraps in the slums.”

Tobias’s gaze softened as Ronan’s words hit the air, but he didn’t argue. “I understand why you’d feel that way, given where you’ve come from. But the empire, like many things, has a structure, a system designed to keep things... functional, even if it isn’t always fair.”

Ronan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Yeah, right. ‘Functional’ for those at the top.”

Tobias didn’t flinch. “True. Those at the top have power, but they also have responsibility—responsibility to manage the land, its people, and to maintain the balance of the empire.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Ravencia’s caste system is deeply ingrained. The Emperor Caste, at the highest level, rules over all. Below that, the Noble Caste manages the empire’s regions. Then comes the Elite Caste—commanders, scholars, magicians. They’re the intellectual and magical leaders who advise the nobility.”

Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “So, it’s a pyramid. The lower you are, the less you matter.”

Tobias sighed. “It may seem that way, and in some ways, it’s true. But each caste plays a role. Below the Elite Caste, you have the Merchant Caste, those who control trade and commerce. Then the Artisan Caste—skilled craftsmen who create the empire’s finest goods. And of course, there’s the Warrior Caste, the soldiers and guards who protect the realm.”

Ronan gave a humorless chuckle. “And where does that leave the rest of us?”

Tobias met his gaze, a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. “The Farmer Caste and the Servant Caste make up much of the empire’s working class. They keep the empire running, but they lack the status of the higher castes. And then... there are the Outcast Caste and the Grey Caste—those who have fallen through the cracks of society. The poorest, the most downtrodden.”

Ronan’s jaw tightened at the mention of the Grey Caste. He knew exactly where he fit in that system. He didn’t need a lesson to remind him of it.

“The caste system is rigid, yes,” Tobias continued. “But there are opportunities to rise, especially for those with exceptional talents or those who are able to attend institutions like Lumenbourg University. It’s one of the few places where the lines blur, where people from different castes can excel based on their abilities rather than their birthright.”

Ronan’s fists tightened slightly at his sides, the words settling in uncomfortably. Opportunities to rise? His eyes flicked back to the map as Tobias spoke, but the meaning of the words weighed heavily in his chest. Opportunities, he thought bitterly. Where were the opportunities for the people in the slums? For his mother, who’d scraped by until there was nothing left? For his sister, who...

He could feel the familiar, dull ache creeping into his chest, that old, quiet grief clawing its way back up to the surface. He shifted in his seat, swallowing the lump in his throat, trying to ignore it. Tobias kept talking, his voice calm, rational, as if explaining the system made it somehow... bearable.

Ronan’s jaw clenched as Tobias continued. “Lumenbourg—places like that—they break the mold. You’re here now, Young Master. That already proves—”

“What?” Ronan cut in, his voice low but laced with an edge that hadn’t been there before. Something was unraveling inside him. “You’re telling me that me sitting here at this desk is proof of what? That the system works? That I’m lucky?” His heart pounded in his chest as the words came, faster now. “How is that supposed to make sense when all I’ve seen is the exact opposite?”

Tobias hesitated, sensing the shift in Ronan’s tone. “I’m not saying it’s fair. I’m saying—”

“And how does that justify anything?” Ronan’s voice grew harder, sharper, the anger bubbling up now. He could hear it, feel it, but it was too late to stop it. “How does me being here justify what my mother went through? Or my sister?”

Tobias’s face flickered with something like discomfort, but Ronan didn’t stop.

“Do you think this... this freaking school is supposed to make everything better? That it’ll magically erase the fact that people like us—people in the Grey Caste, as you so fancily put—have been left to rot in the streets?” His voice rose, breaking through the quiet of the room. “How does any of this make sense when they’re dead? Where were their opportunities?”

His fist slammed down on the desk before he even realized what he was doing. The sound echoed in the room, sharp and final. Ronan’s chest heaved—the years of helplessness, of watching everything fall apart while the rest of the world just moved on.

Tobias flinched at the sudden outburst, his calm demeanor shaken for the first time. His eyes darted to the desk, then back to Ronan, his face growing tight with unease. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Young Master… I—"

“Don’t call me that,” Ronan spat, his breathing heavy. “Do you think just because I’m here, because I’m sitting at this fancy desk, that any of this makes sense? That my family suffered for some ‘greater good’ in this sick hierarchy?”

Tobias looked down for a moment, clearly uncomfortable, his hands clasping together tightly. “I don’t… I don’t expect you to accept it, sir. I’m not justifying what’s happened to you, or to anyone else. The system—this empire—it’s flawed. And I know it must seem like no one cares about the ones at the bottom. But… things are changing.”

“Changing?” Ronan scoffed, his voice filled with disbelief. “What could possibly be changing?”

Tobias cleared his throat, his nervousness more evident now. “The current emperor, Emperor Eldor V, he’s been quietly pushing for reforms, trying to create more opportunities for people who have been neglected. He understands that the caste system is outdated and unfair, but you have to realize… disrupting a system that’s been in place for over a thousand years isn’t easy.”

Ronan’s eyes burned with intensity. “So what? That’s not going to bring back my family.”

Tobias hesitated, his gaze softening as he looked at Ronan. “No, it won’t bring them back,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But you have something most people in the Grey Caste never get. You have a chance to change things, for yourself and for others like you. You’re in a position to make a difference. To make sure what happened to your family doesn’t keep happening to others.”

Ronan’s jaw tightened, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly. The weight of Tobias’s words pressed on him, making him feel like he was carrying a burden he never asked for. He didn’t sign up to fix this broken system.

He exhaled sharply, his voice low but resolute. “This lecture is over.”

Tobias paused, then nodded, sensing that there was no point in pushing further. “Yes, Young Master.”

Ronan stood there for a brief moment longer, his gaze hard, before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.