Three days of waiting to take a train passed by a lot faster than I thought it would. I spent all of my time reading or still working on Mana Circulation, a skill I still hadn’t managed to learn. I kept at it anyway.

When I finally got on the train, it seemed to take forever. Bloken was not a large nation, but unfortunately, it was buried deep in the continent of Alpha and surrounded by dozens of smaller countries that were often at war with each other. Still, it was much faster than travelling by wagon train, which would take a month or more. The train would get me there in three days. Thankfully, I had a sleeper car to myself and was able to have meals brought to me. All it really meant was that I had more time to work on my skills and not make any significant progress.

Thanks to my glasses, I was awed when the silhouette of Mancer City finally came into view. The city sparkled with countless lights, which reflected off of the ice that covered it. It was surrounded by towering mountain peaks, which added a sense of majesty to it being built at the bottom of a valley. The city looked like it was made of glass, though it was more that it was covered in ice due to the altitude, which was yet another feature of the Royal Mancer Academy. Because Mancer City sprawled so far up and around the mountains, it made training in physical stats more productive somehow. I was truly excited to explore and see everything it had to offer.

The train finally pulled into Grand Mancer Station a little past noon, hours after I’d gotten my first look. I was impatient to see the city up close once we did stop, but I knew I had a role to play. I carefully packed away my things, resisting the urge to steal the silverware, and in true aristocratic fashion, made a lot of noise about the rabble leaving the train before their betters, doing my best to show disdain. I didn’t engage with any pushing or shoving as that was beneath me. I waited and complained.

I gave an annoyed tut as I met with the student representative, a large cattle-folk, that was to show me to the academy. He held up two signs, one written in Rychanian with my name on it. The other sign was written in Abbaion and had the name “Alphonse Romano.” If this cattleman was here for me and the Hero, then I now had the Hero’s name. Not that I could admit knowing what Romano’s Job was. For now, the only thing I was allowed to know was that I was waiting for another student named Alphonse Romano. The name wasn’t one that belonged to any of the major Abbaion crime families, so that was good.

In Blokena, I said, “Honestly, I thought this was an academy for the elite.”

The older cattle-folk student looked to be in his twenties, much older than me or the Hero, which also made me question if he was even a student and not some kind of guard that worked for the Academy. He carried a shield of all things strapped on one arm while an axe hung from his hip. To finish the look, he also had a large claymore sword sheathed on his back. I guessed, in addition to guiding us to the school, he was also there to act as security for the Hero.

“Belov?” the deep voice of the cattleman asked.

I gave a sharp but short bow, “Yes, comrade. I am Burion Belov.”

The cattleman just grunted and then looked away from me to scan the crowd. I did not see many kin my age. Most looked older, some far older. I knew that Mancer Academy served kin of all ages. I guess I just assumed that most would be young like me, people who had the most potential to grow and develop their skills. Then again, Mancer City was very large, larger than any city I’d ever seen.

I finally saw a dogman that looked to be around my age. He had golden brown hair, a mischievous look in his eyes, and a grin that suggested he was going to be a lot of trouble. He wore a tailored white shirt, partly covered by a light brown leather vest that matched the leather trousers he was wearing. I didn’t see any luggage, but he did have a small drawstring bag hanging from his belt that could have been a magic bag of some kind. He had a rapier on one hip and a pistol on the other. He reminded me a lot of the pirate captain, Viento, which made me wonder if she ever found a new ship to sail.

I was slightly distracted when the dogboy spoke. In Abbaion and with a very thick accent, he asked, “You lookin’ for me?”

“Are you Alphonse Romano?” the cattleman asked.

The dogboy grinned and playfully replied, “Woah, easy there with the ‘Alphonse stuff.’ Please, just call me ‘Al.’”

And there was one way for me to annoy him. Sometimes, the easiest way to create enmity between two people is to push their buttons.

“Follow me,” the cattleman replied, turning, and starting toward the exit that still had passengers streaming in and out.

I stepped in line with Alphonse and started a conversation. Keeping my Rychanian accent, I spoke in Abbaion, saying, “Comrade Alphonse Romano, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Burion Belov, proud son of Rychania.”

Al gave me an odd look at my introduction. “Sure, nice to meetcha. But like I told the big guy, just call me ‘Al.’”

I shook my head. “That would be very rude of me. Rychanians are taught to show respect at all times, that our peers today, may be our bosses tomorrow, and it is very unwise to be rude to your boss. You agree, yes?”

“Uh, sure,” Al replied, taking a half step away from me.

I kept the smirk off my face, and I took a half step closer to him. “Have you ever visited Rychania? I think you would like it. It is a very beautiful country. Our architecture is second to none.” I paused and gave him a considering look. “You are . . . Abbaion, yes?”

“We are speaking Abbaion,” Al replied.

I nodded. “Sorry, I assumed that to be true, but then again, it is never wise to assume anything. You agree, yes?” I didn’t give him a chance to agree and continued, “As you are from Abbaio, you would know a bit about the wonders of Rychania construction and architecture. We have built half your nation after all.”

I finally got a frown from Al and celebrated in my head a little. I was getting to him.

“I think you would like it there.” I leaned a little closer and whispered, “There are also many fine Rychanian dogwomen that would love to meet someone who attended the Royal Mancer Academy.”

That got a suspicious look from him. It was good. I wanted him to be suspicious of me. I needed him to be wary of me. It meant he would be more wary of Rychania. Still, I knew I needed to reduce the pressure. “My nation has been very generous to me and my family since I was accepted. I never knew so many badgerwomen existed in the world.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Al still seemed wary of me, but he snorted a laugh. “You’d be amazed what comes out of the woodwork when you get a little bit of fame to you.”

“Oh, is it the same in Abbaio?” I asked, feigning curiosity.

Al nodded and looked off into the distance as if he were lost in thought. He shook his head and answered, “Yeah, pretty much. Everyone wants to be with the H uh . . . prodigy going off to Mancer.”

Not the worst recovery I’d ever heard. He needed to be more careful about that in the future. People knew the Hero was coming to Mancer. They knew it was a dogboy. They didn’t know it was this dogboy, at least, not yet. Hopefully, most never would.

I was going to say more about Rychania when the cattleman spoke up. “In,” he ordered, pointing to a waiting beast-drawn carriage.

“Please, after you, comrade Alphonse,” I said, motioning for him to enter first.

Al grunted and boarded the carriage.

I followed behind him. The carriage had two benches, front and back, facing each other. I moved to sit opposite Al when the cattleman squeezed his way inside, forcing the two of us to sit next to each other while he sat opposite us with the claymore resting across his lap.

I looked to Al to ask another question, but he was laying back with his eyes closed. He was either uninterested in talking to me, or he was tired from the trip, maybe both.

Instead, I turned to the cattleman. “Comrade, I never did get your name.”

The cattleman quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Getting the impression he wasn’t going to answer me, I asked a different question, “How long have you attended Mancer?”

No answer.

“Or are you a guard?”

Still no answer.

“That is a nice shield. Do you know, is it lair made?”

And still no answer. At that point, I gave up. He wasn’t interested in answering any of my questions, and I wasn’t going to force it.

It took another four hours for the carriage to reach the Academy grounds as it weaved back and forth up the roads as it climbed the mountain. When we finally reached the Academy, I thought that was the end of the ride, but no. We spent another hour climbing the mountain to reach our dorm. It really put into perspective just how big this city really was and just how high we were.

“Out,” the cattleman ordered when we did stop, climbing out first himself and holding the door open.

I gave Al a light elbow, making the boy snap awake and pull his pistol on me.

I froze with my hand hovering near my knife, but I gave Al a chance to put the weapon away.

The dogboy blinked a few times before he came back to himself and quickly holstered the pistol. He gave me a weak, “Sorry,” then quickly fled from the carriage. That reaction wasn’t normal. Growing up on the streets the way I did, I’d seen more than a few of the kids turn . . . paranoid. They were dangerous. I worried that the Hero might just be just like them.

“Keep that pistol in your apartment. Gunpowder weapons are not allowed on Mancer Academy grounds without special written permission from the dean,” the cattleman warned gruffly.

I stood and straightened my clothes again, adopting a proper stance and marched from the carriage. I needed to make a good impression on anyone that may be watching me.

I overheard the loud cattleman saying, “Third floor is yours,” to Al as he passed him a key. Allowing the dogboy to grab it and rush inside.

“Second floor is yours,” the cattleman said, handing me a different key, which I accepted. I looked up at the house that was to be my home for the foreseeable future. It was a yellowish-brown with several windows on each floor, their frames painted white. I couldn’t tell how far back it went but if I had an entire floor to myself, it couldn’t be that large. Still, it looked picturesque. The front door was bright red and had an iron number two nailed to the frame. I quickly mastered myself and went inside.

Through the front door, there was a stairway leading up and a door on my left with an iron ‘A’ nailed to it. I looked up the stairs and saw Al had already passed the first landing and was almost to the second with his key in hand. I was slightly surprised by the stairs, mostly in that they were deeper than I thought they would be. If I had an entire floor to myself then I had a lot more room than I thought.

I climbed the stairs to the first landing where a door with an iron ‘B’ awaited. My key slid into the lock, opened with a gentle click, and I entered.

It was opulent. Not on the level of my Handler’s manor, but still opulent. I had heard they called such a layout a loft. The entire floor was one large room. To my left and the back of the building was the bedroom area and a small room I believed to be a bathroom. The space was dominated by a large bed and tall armoire.

Directly across from the door was the kitchen. It had everything I could have asked for. There was a stove, a sink with a spigot, and it looked to be stocked with pots, pans, utensils, and dishes, though I saw no food. However, I did see one surprise. A cold pantry. It was much smaller than the one on the Concepción, only as big as a small closet, but it would be more than enough for my needs. And in the middle of the room was a tall butcher’s block table with four tall chairs placed next to each other on one side of it.

To the right was a study and living area. There was a large desk situated just in front of the windows, empty bookshelves against the walls to the left and right on the desk. The sitting area was set up before the desk. There was a long couch sat against the wall next to the stairs. A low standing table was just in front of it. Across from the couch was a pair of armchairs that looked very comfortable. I was already planning to spend most of my time reading in one of those chairs.

I smiled as I took in my new home. It was more than I’d ever had. I could see myself with a home like this one day. As I looked around again, I made a mental list of things I needed to do. I needed to unpack my clothes and the books I brought with me from the manor, even the Mystic Shadow book. My Handler said I should as I wasn’t hiding my Mystic skills, just some of my less than reputable skills.

Once that was done, I needed to go shopping. I fully intended to stock my kitchen to the brim. I wanted beast meat, fresh fruit and vegetables, and seasonings. I needed lots and lots of seasonings. And in a city like Mancer, I bet I could find some I’d never even heard of or that I couldn’t get living in Aulido.

So off I went, eager to explore my new surroundings.

The crisp mountain air rushed into my lungs as I stepped out of the apartment building, a peaceful silence falling over me. I couldn't help but admire the city, its cobblestone pathways and old-fashioned architecture, not to mention the absence of crowds on the cold afternoon.

I followed my nose, searching for something inviting and familiar. I could just make out the faint smell of roasting meats and freshly picked fruits, leading me to an old warehouse in the corner of the city. Its facade contrasted greatly with the surrounding structures, standing out from its surroundings with its unique and vibrant colours. I detected flags from several nations on the walls of each building; Aulidoan and Rugirian flags hung side by side on one of them. Fascinated, I wondered for a moment what story could have led to such a peculiar sight.

Finally, I reached the building and stepped inside. The sweet aromas of spices and delicacies from all over the world overwhelmed me. The soft chatter of customers, the vendors' excited calls to buy their goods, the clang of coins hitting the counter. There was an incredible array of foods representing an array of cultures. Mancer had certainly not failed to impress; it was time to go shopping.

I stocked up. I got stuff to make typical Rychanian, Abbaion, and Blokena foods, but also got a plethora of others. I filled the cold pantry to the brim with all manner of beast meat, milk, butter, and cream. And so many cheeses, everything from a gentle mild cheese to something called Limburger that stank so horribly I thought I might die from the scent alone, but there was also flavour there, so I bought a little.

After stocking up, I finished my evening as I usually did, practising my Mana Circulation followed by a bath and sleep. Someday, I would learn that skill. At this point it was stubborn determination that pushed me forward to learning it.

I didn’t know what the coming days would bring, but I was excited to find out. With possibilities running through my head, I eventually drifted off to sleep.