AKI:

Closing in on the city was like riding waves of wonder, each surge dwarfing the last.

Ships announced The Academy. The first of them fascinated me, its synchronized oars shifting back and forth like the legs of an insect, tall masts and fat sails stretching into the sky and daring to catch the wind. But then I saw a second ship, a third, and a fourth, and my interest waned. When we crested the final hill and gazed upon their hive, the ships were but a trifle.

Word was that the revenue generated by students had built a city of commerce equal to that of Partum’s, and thus—Patrum being a costly city far from any coast—housed the greatest merchant port in all of Evergreen. The harbor, built along the inward arc of its shore, was a sight to behold. Like a manmade hive, piers extended over and beyond the sandy beach, lined and spaced in such a way as to make them look like the spokes of a hubless half-wheel. I might've thought it grand if I’d not seen the city it called home.

Evergreen’s metropolis of commerce lay nestled between two hills just shy of being mountains. Bright lights dotted the streets. Smoke billowed out of thousands of chimneys. A charged hum of distant activity buzzed in my ears. All this and more came together to make the docks inconsequential in comparison. To our left, at the northern foot of the western hill, was the city’s version of The Muds: a bevy of daub-and-wattle huts. To their east, separated by a wall of brick and mortar, was their version of The Roots: an eclectic collection of dwellings with the wealthier and more organized homes closer to the sea and the others spreading inland in ragged lines—the result of later settlers who’d fled to the city in hopes of partaking in its abundant trade. Along the coastal curvature, and more so around the top of its arc, the buildings were as extravagant as any I’d seen in The Heartwood, sporting gated mansions, soaring towers, and a vast, oval building I later found to be the amphitheater. Despite this, what truly elevated the city into a triumph was below the opposite hill and along the easter edge of the crescent coast.

The Academy was colossal. Bleached curtain walls as tall as a hundred men stretched between towers half again as tall, providing a stark contrast to the animated colors that lay beyond. Sparks of blue and red flashed and shone in its northern sector. Fields of unfamiliar trees and plants stretched along the southern edge. Great clouds of smoke rose from monstrous blocks of stone higher up the hill. Even the godlings at the front of our procession hung out from their caravan windows, pointing and staring at the collection of spectacles. And so it was that we, from peasant to noble, stared in awe.

Our procession entered the city entered the city on the cusp of sunset. By the time the caravans and carts halted, coming to a stop in a plain courtyard, the night was well underway.

“Attention,” a voice boomed. A tall, olive-skinned man stood beside Lokos in front of the open doors of a six-story building. “I am,” the man continued, “besides a master Vapor, the arbiter for this here student house. You may refer to me as Master Ekolise. Yes, as I’m sure you’ve all noticed, I am of Kolokasian descent. Hold it against me at your own peril.” He paused, inviting someone to comment. Not even the wind dared a whisper. “A few ground rules before you retire for the night. Firstly, no fights outside sanctioned bouts may occur on academy grounds. Second, anyone found with funds or items of worth will be punished and their possessions confiscated. Third, no one may alter the Aedificator matrixes in the dorms and their settings. Fourth, you—and I mean you—will incur the costs of any academy property you damage. Fifth, for now, no one may share a room. Sixth, the servants, whose services you may request but not command, must not be harmed. And lastly, until you are told otherwise, you will all wear The Academy uniform exclusively. Further to this rule, no personal touches may be made to said uniform. And no, this rule does not preclude you from taking it off for sanitation purposes. Your Marks, however, which you will be presented with tomorrow and are considered part of the uniform, must not leave your neck, though I doubt any of you could remove it without a Master’s express permission.

“Now, for some basic information. The eastern part of our wing—that would be the building behind me—is to be your private quarters for the foreseeable future. You may deal with the allocation of rooms amongst yourselves. Do not fret if you are the last to do so. Except for the view they offer, all are identical. Any items you wish to dispose of may be left in the carts. Any items you wish for us to hold for you may be handed to Master Lokos. Amenities can be found in your private quarters in the form of privies and baths, both of which are in private rooms adjacent to your bed chambers.” He pointed to a single-story building to his right. “The northern section is the refectory. Meals will be served there at dawn and dusk. Lighter meals can be requested outside these times but depend on the kitchen staff's discretion.” He pointed to his left at another one-story building. “The southern face is the servants' quarters. Other than the front office, where you may request their services, the rest of the building is barred to you. Any questions? Then get to bed. You will need your sleep. Your official induction into The Academy shall commence in the refectory tomorrow at the second bell.”

We entered our new home in roughly the same order we came in. The Leaves went in first, Linus first amongst them as he edged past another Leaf twice his size. Edon was sixth. I, as was expected, was dead last.

The room they left me with was on the first floor, third due north of the stairs and facing the open courtyard. It was better than Merkus’ room in The Heartwood. The window, tall and sectioned into square panes, was made of glass so clear I could see it only by the way the light from the lanterns shone on its surface. A single, thick, warm rug the color of wheat covered the floor, a fingerbreadth from the room's edges. The head of the bed was pushed to the center of one of the walls and layered with soft linen and half a dozen plush pillows. Two doors were on the opposite end. One led to a small privy clean enough to eat from, the other to a small room with a bath, a thick, brass pipe protruding over it from the ceiling.

Content with my brief exploration of my new home, I closed the heavy curtains, turned off the matrix lanterns, and crept into my new bed.

***

I awoke on the floor, the bedsheets wrapped around me. No memory served to tell me how I’d gotten there. I clambered up and threw open the curtains, finding no light beyond its coverage. The first bell was a turn or two away, and so night had yet to fall. Weeks passed, and my body refused to break the habit of waking this early. It seemed practices built on fear and hope were not so easily dismantled. I tried to curl back into bed and find sleep once more, but nightmares, the latest iteration fresh on my mind, cut my attempt short.

The lanterns switched on with a twist of a switch. I made the bed, used the privy, and tried the bath. It took me a while to figure out how to get water from the pipe. As it turned out, a pulse of sensus on the inner surface of the bath filled the water to wherever indicated—a neat trick overcomplicated by skill. I had no such luck with the temperate, and my bath was a cold, furious affair that left me numb but otherwise clean. Farian taught me bathing was mandatory in polite society; I decided my shivering was his doing.

Five uniforms were folded in the oak chest opposite the bed, each a different size, the smallest of which still hung loose on my diminutive frame. Fully dressed and with nowhere else to go, I headed to the refectory.

The lights in the servant quarters were ablaze. As were those in the dining hall. They glowed past windows and onto the broken stump of a statue in the center of the courtyard. Time and damage had eroded the plaque under the jagged shards of the sculpture, rendering the words unreadable. I found the incongruity curious. All I’d seen of the academy suggested they took pride in keeping their structures pristine. I wondered why they had left this particular statue in disrepair.

The dining hall was a masterpiece of carpentry. First were the front doors, two large blocks of wood carved with scenes of battle so detailed as to trick the eyes into flinching away. I ran my hand down the thing just to make sure it wasn’t a window into another world. Inside the hall, sculpted brackets lined the walls, a marvel of artistry. The same went for every beam, joist, raft, and ridge used to construct the high ceiling. Rows of identical benches and tables sat evenly spaced, all polished to a sheen. I sauntered over to the closest.

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“Breakfast, sir?” a voice said.

I jerked around, finding an older man standing behind me. He wore all black, had a mop of white hair, and stood barely as tall as I sat.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

I waved my open palms at him. “No, no. No need to apologize. And I’m no sir, just…”

“Are you a student of The Academy?” the man asked, his words slightly muffled by his thick mustache.

“I am.”

“Then to The Academy servants, you are a sir. So, breakfast?”

I smiled to hide my discomfort. “If it’s no bother. I’m famished.”

He called an order towards the door at the back of the hall. A plump woman in a stained apron came out carrying a tray. She slid a plate of food in front of me, laid out an assortment of cutlery, each carefully and purposely placed, then briskly returned to her post in the kitchen, all without uttering a word.

Freshly baked bread steamed. Fluffy eggs scrambled in butter lay in a pile. Thick sausages glistened a delightful shade of brown. A block of cheese flushed and melted from the heat of it all.

“Eat,” The man said, his tone sounding oddly like an order.

I resisted the urge to pounce on the food and, instead, put out my hand to the old man. “Aki.”

He watched my outstretched hand for a breath, then raised his eyes to mine. Slowly, his mustache mimicked the angles of a smile. “We are going to get along grandly,” he said. “You may call me Muggy.” He grasped my forearm, his hands unusually large for his small frame. “Well met.”

“Care to join me?”

“Would if I could, young—.”

I waved away his intended use of an honorific. “Please. I told you my name so you could use it. Was that not your intent when you gave me yours?”

Muggy laughed. “Very grandly indeed, Aki. It’s a rare showing when the first encounter with a new batch of students meets me with such a humble fellow. Regretfully, I must decline your offer. Prior engagements have already purchased my time.”

“Not to worry,” I said, slightly disappointed. After three days of alternating between the silence of solitude and the hostility of my fellow passengers, some pleasant company was more than welcome. I found I missed Merkus terribly.

With a consoling smile, Muggy left me to my meal.

I was drowsing off when the first of the students wandered in. Three of them entered, chatting gaily in that bashful way new friends do. A twinge of jealousy ran through me. Soon, the room was packed, and I was trying my hand at another breakfast. The void I’d come into was pushed down on me by a roaring crowd, covering me in a dense bubble of seclusion. I’d not felt so alone since the days before… well, before. I picked at my food, watching and cursing their camaraderie from the corner of my eye, my hatred spurred by envy.

“Attention,” Master Ekolise's voice resounded. I looked up. He stood at the head of the room. “Today marks your first day at The Academy. Official enrollment will now commence.”

A few servants came in with stacks of paper held tight to their chests. They dispersed about the room, handing out sheets to each of the students, somehow both chaotic and orderly in their manner.

“Your schedules,” Ekolise informed. “Copies can be requested at the servant's quarter. You will all be attending the same classes for the first season, except those who pass the assessment early. The trial period will last a cycle of seasons. During this cycle, your rudimentary knowledge will be solidified in the first season, your capacities confirmed in the second and third, and your specialties officially designated in the last. All this will be provided free of cost or commitment. Once the trial is over, you will have to fund your stay here yourselves. Permissible options for doing so will present themselves in due time.”

Ekolise waved forward a young man holding a thick wooden box. “When your name is called, come and collect your mark. This will identify you to the security measures within The Academy and act as a life compass should we ever need to verify your location. Be warned, until such a time as a Master unlocks this limitation, the marks will freeze your sensus whensoever you call upon it outside training facilities.”

The man lay the box down and unlocked the top. One by one, we were called. All of us—excluding the half dozen Leaves, who went to collect theirs with slow boredom—scurried to collect our marks under the hurrying glares of our classmates. When the last was presented, Ekolise rose from his seat to speak once more.

“Before you all leave for your first class,” he said, “The Academy’s Headmaster wishes to say a few words.” A few students sighed heavily, but a sharp snort and the narrowing of his dark eyes silenced the room.

A short, modestly dressed man walked in. My heart leaped to my throat.

Muggy strolled forward, his arms held behind his back in a dignified posture, his aura of command understating his small stature and simple attire. He perused the room with a critical eye, sparing me a glance as his observation passed over me.

I blamed Diloni. As a lowly Muds, she spoke in much the same manner a Branch might. As such, I’d not quite learned to dissociate such characteristics from the lower classes. Muggy’s entire demeanor screamed of him being more than a simple Root. His clothing hadn't. His appearance and presence in the student's refectory so early in the morning hadn't. Yet…

“I am Head Master Ricell,” Muggy said. “Much as I would like to be here to welcome you, I am, in fact, here to reinforce a more sobering message. In case you do not understand the loss of your belongings, let me be as blunt as I can be. You are nothing. Within these walls, devoid of your family’s support, you are nothing. Until you earn your graduation, you will remain nothing. Act the part.” Coolly, as though he had not just threatened and insulted a room of Leaves and Branches, he strolled out.

Ekolise hushed the indignant mutterings of the better-born students with a simple frown. “Your first lecture will begin two turns from noon. I expect you all to find the location and keep watch of your punctuality.”

I went back to the half-eaten scraps of my second breakfast. Others discussed the Head Master’s terse speech. They, like me, questioned how such an ordinary-seeming man could hold such a position. Unlike me, they complained incessantly about their loss of status; the better bred the student, the louder their grievance.

A hand fell on my shoulder.

Before I explain what happened next, let me preface this with an admission: I’ve never been one for notions of romantic love. Lust, I understood, though never to a degree I could sympathize with the fervent craze of others my age. Merkus was much the same way. We only spoke of such matters when Edon had the mind to mention his various exploits. Like any adolescent boy, I appreciated the beauty of the feminine form, but the zeal others expressed was beyond me.

And then I met Sil.

She was, to my eye, the most flawlessly feminine woman I’d ever seen. Not in ways that exaggerated or downplayed or contrasted, but in ways unexplained by the lines and curves of reality or the whims and logics of mankind. Golden streams of hair ran down to hover just above her shoulders. Pale lashes and blazing eyebrows gleamed against her milky skin. And though I noted how the tip of her nose curved out a little too far, or that her lips, though full, were unusually narrow, or how the sapphire orbs that were her eyes were a little too big for her small, oval face, each feature synchronized into perfection, somehow achieving a balance a collection of perfect features could never match. Large blue eyes of sapphire reminded me of the vast sky and sea I’d only recently come to know, outdoing their majesty. So enamored was I, so infused in my appreciation, I almost missed the jolt of her anger, the twitch of her clenched jaw, the flicker of her creased brow creasing, the flash of her flared nostrils. Then I heard her silken voice, and my ardor dismissed my observations as mere misapprehensions.

“Mind if we join you?” she asked.

I took a moment to notice the tall boy standing beside her.

“Is that a no?”

“Of course not,” I said. “Nothing of the sort. Please, um, you are welcome to join me.”

They went the short distance around the table and took the seats opposite me.

“You’re The Mud, aren’t you?” she asked.

Shame tried to creep into me. I beat it back with anger. I am who I am. “Yes.”

“Impressive,” the boy commented. His voice was deep and clear. It complemented his handsome face. My urge to punch him ugly almost overwhelmed me.

“Indeed,” she added. My brow furrowed. The conversation wasn’t going where I thought it would. “It takes talent to be accepted here. Those from The Leaves and Branches expend political power, while those of The Roots spend a fortune to train their offspring. Even then, many fail to reach The Academy. Getting here without support is commendable.”

I stayed silent. What could I do with the great ax of my anger when they came with the feathers of compliments? It took me a moment to lay down my rage.

“So, which institute are you aiming for?” The boy asked.

“War. You?”

“Administration.” He shrugged at my incredulity. “Why fight when you can rule?”

The girl laughed and slapped his arm. “To fight is to rule. Wherever you go, fighting is inevitable, and no more so than when you attempt to avoid it. Nothing draws predators like meek prey.”

The boy snorted. “Not all power comes in the form of personal strength, and ultimately, power is what rules.”

“Power is derived from strength,” she insisted. “Merkusian himself said so.”

“A cyclical argument,” he said. “Because any power taken becomes, in a manner of speaking, part of your strength.”

“False.” She grinned like her following words would quell the crux of his argument. “Such power can be taken and is therefore never truly part of your strength.”

The handsome young man returned her grin. “Therein lies your folly, Sil. You assume that the skill needed to maintain power is not part of your strength. Besides, any strength can be taken. Souls and bodies can be broken as easily as alliances, loyalties, or any other means of influence.”

“Nonsense,” the girl barked, her shout a passion of sincerity. She turned to me then and, like we were longtime friends, said, “Aki, rid this imbecile of his delusion.”

Unoffended, the giant boy laughed merrily. “You’d best not let her charms stop you from admitting the truth, Aki. So, go on then, let's hear it—the truth, that is.”

And like that, like a handsome storm of lighthearted jibes and casual geniality, I met Sil and Dako.