In the early hours of the morning, the boys assembled in the dining hall, eager to refuel after their strenuous workout. The clang of cutlery and the scent of breakfast filled the air, drawing everyone's attention to hearty plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and fresh bread. Fenric, sipping from a mug of steaming tea, sighed dramatically as he flexed his arms.

"My arms are gonna fall off," Fenric groaned, eyeing the food longingly as if it might have mystical healing properties.

Viktor paused his own breakfast just long enough to respond. "Well, maybe challenging that boy wasn’t your smartest move?"

Fenric shrugged off the comment. "He looked scrawny, easy pickings."

Soren shook his head. "That 'scrawny' kid made you look pathetic."

Lifting his mug with renewed determination, Fenric sighed. "I’ll admit It’s a bit of setback, but it's only temporary," he asserted, trying to reclaim some dignity.

Viktor chuckled. "You could've at least been a bit more diplomatic about it."

Fenric furrowed his brow. "What’d ya mean by that?"

"I mean, calling him a 'plague-ridden donkey's rear?' To challenge him for a simple push-up contest? That’s a bit much," Viktor replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Worked, didn’t it? He got all riled up, just like I wanted," Fenric retorted defensively.

Arelos weighed in, crossing his arms. "And then he wanted to bash your face in. Only worked out 'cause Viktor stepped in to cool things down."

Fenric took a sip from his mug. "Good to see Vik finally pulling his weight," he remarked, his expression playfully indifferent. "Really thought I was carrying this whole friendship, but now I can rest easy knowing you’ve got my back," he concluded, flashing a teasing grin.

"Just shut up and eat your damn eggs," Viktor replied, rolling his eyes.

Arelos, glancing at the mug in Fenric’s hand, raised an eyebrow. "Is that your old wooden mug?"

Fenric beamed, unapologetic. "Of course. You thought I’d leave it behind? I'm not that crazy."

Viktor eyed the mug and then Fenric. "So you trotted all the way upstairs to fetch your old mug instead of using one from the stack right there," he pointed towards a tower of plain mugs, "That makes sense."

Fenric gestured dismissively, "Those mugs are for peasa..." he paused, considering the plain mugs in Viktor's, Soren's, and Arelos' hands, then quickly added, "aren’t quite special."

Arelos shook his head, his disbelief evident in his tone. "You’re definitely a character, Fen, no doubt about it."

"Appreciate the compliment, Arelos," Fenric responded without missing a beat.

Arelos sighed. "Wasn’t a compliment."

"How’s calling out my fine character not a compliment?" Fenric challenged, grinning widely.

Arelos just shook his head again, muttering more to himself than anyone else, "Why do I even bother talking to you?" He bent over his plate, focusing on his food once more.

A companionable silence settled over the boys as they returned to their meals.

Soren glanced around the bustling room and nudged Fenric. "Hurry up, guys, other recruits are moving. Lessons are about to start."

The boys quickly finished their meals and stood.

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Fenric groaned, trailing behind. "Lessons aren’t really my thing."

Viktor gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "You’ll be fine, Fen."

Soren shrugged, a hint of doubt in his voice. "You’ll at least manage."

"We’ll see," Arelos concluded, his tone skeptical.

"Really supportive crew I’ve got," Fenric muttered, shaking his head. Then, under his breath, he added, "Next time some clown tries to pull something at night, I’ll just stay out of it."

The classroom was a sizable room, with four long tables arranged horizontally, each accommodating a dozen students comfortably. Sunlight filtered in through large windows, giving the space a bright and airy feeling, even as a sense of anticipation hung in the air.

Mikos stepped to the front, greeting the room with a nod. "Good morning. I hope your day has started well," he began, his voice steady and confident.

The chatter settled as the older students took their seats, setting up their materials and focusing their attention.

"For those of you who are already familiar with our routine," Mikos continued, "it will be business as usual. Focus on your individual studies, and I will be available for questions throughout the day. Make sure to use your time wisely."

Next to him stood a young man, waiting patiently. Mikos gestured toward him. "For anyone not yet acquainted, this is Gavric. He'll be assisting me with your studies. If you need help and I'm tied up, don't hesitate to seek his assistance."

Mikos turned his attention to the four new arrivals, who stood a bit apart from the rest. Viktor, Fenric, Soren, and Arelos shifted slightly under his gaze, waiting for instructions.

"As for our newcomers," Mikos said, his tone warm but firm, "you'll be accompanying me to another room shortly. We'll discuss what will be expected of you and get you settled into your studies."

He paused, giving the room a sweeping glance to ensure everyone was attentive. "For the rest, keep your focus sharp. Gavric will circulate and check on your progress. Now, come along," he said with a nod to the new recruits.

With that, Mikos motioned for Viktor and his companions to rise. They followed him out of the classroom, the door closing quietly behind them as they ventured into the corridor.

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Mikos led the boys into a smaller, well-lit room lined with bookshelves and a round table at the center. As the boys settled around the table, Mikos began to explain the learning process. "Here, your studies are self-directed after an initial assessment," he said. "We guide you, but encourage you to pursue your interests once foundational gaps are filled." He paused, meeting their eyes one by one. "I’ve been informed you’re all literate, but this is about finding and addressing any basics you might lack."

Soren raised a brow, not entirely convinced. "You mean we just do whatever we want?"

Mikos shook his head slightly with an amused smile. "Not quite. Of course, there are essential areas we need to cover first. But ultimately, you'll have the freedom to explore subjects that interest you—as long as you're keeping up with the basics."

"And what exactly are these 'basics'?" Arelos asked, scrutinizing the table littered with papers and writing implements.

"Glad you asked," Mikos replied, handing each boy a packet of pages. "We need to assess your current proficiency. The first test in your packet is reading comprehension, the second assesses your math skills, and the third covers political and historical knowledge. It includes an essay to see how well you can express your ideas in writing."

Soren thumbed through the pages, frowning slightly. "Are we supposed to finish this in one go?"

"You'll have an hour," Mikos clarified. "There's no pressure. This's just to give us a picture of where everyone's at. Feel free to approach it however you want. I'll leave you to it and have someone come collect the papers when time's up."

"And if we finish early?" Viktor inquired, glancing over the material.

"You can spend extra time on the essay, or relax if you’ve given it your all," Mikos suggested, stepping back toward the door. "Any more questions?"

The boys sat quietly, exchanging a brief glance before shaking their heads.

"Great. You'll be unsupervised, as cooperation defeats the purpose. Gavric will come to collect the tests in an hour. Good Luck," Mikos said before exiting the room, the sound of the closing door lingering momentarily.

As soon as Mikos exited, Fenric grinned, suggesting, "So, we’re totally cheating, right?"

Viktor shook his head, amused. "You heard Mikos, Fen. There would be no point. Let's just trust the process for now."

"Fine," Fenric grumbled.

The next hour unfolded in silence, save for the scratch of ink on paper. Viktor and his friends diligently worked through the assessment papers. The questions weren't overly complex, though some sections were challenging.

Viktor found the essay part particularly open-ended, leaving room for a variety of approaches. After some thought, he decided to focus on how historical conflicts in the kingdom had influenced market prices over the years. As he wrote, he recalled lectures with his old tutor, briefly wondering if Barath—had he been alive—might have commended him for his analysis.

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The door creaked open precisely as the hour ended, and Gavric entered the room with a casual, confident stride. His eyes swept across the group of boys, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Alright, gentlemen, time's up," Gavric announced, his voice calm but firm. "I trust you've done your utmost."

Fenric groaned softly under his breath, clearly not sharing Gavric's optimism. As Gavric moved around the table to collect the packets, Fenric reluctantly handed over his papers, grumbling something inaudible. Viktor caught a glimpse of the packet—most of the pages appeared nearly blank.

Soren was next, his expression betraying a flicker of nervousness. As he handed over his papers, he asked, "When will we know how we did?"

Gavric carefully stacked the packets into a neat pile and gave Soren an assuring nod. "I'll review these over lunch. Mikos and I will discuss your results and come up with a learning plan later this evening."

"And what are we to do in the meantime?" Viktor asked.

Gavric paused for a moment, as if weighing his response. "Nothing, really," he said with a light smile. "Well... you’ve still got combat training later, but until then, you’re free to do as you please."

Viktor glanced around at the other boys. "We've still got some time until lunch. What do you guys fancy doing?"

Silence met his question. Fenric crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his discontent palpable. Arelos merely shrugged, his expression unreadable as usual.

"C'mon guys. We've got to kill time somehow," Viktor pressed.

"How about you boys spend some time in the gardens?" Gavric suggested. "There’s not much left of the season, and soon enough, it’ll be all drab and gray. Might as well enjoy it while you can."

Viktor turned to look at his friends. "Any objections to that?"

"Sure, why not," Soren said.

Arelos gave an indifferent shrug, leaving the decision to the others.

"Whatever. Let’s just go," Fenric muttered, his voice marked by annoyance.

Gavric chuckled softly as he gathered the last of the papers. "Excellent," he said, stepping toward the door. "Well, I’ll see you boys tomorrow—if I don’t run into you later."

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Gavric started to leaf through the test papers as he walked back towards the classroom that still held the other students. He winced slightly as he glanced at Fenric's answers. "Looks like I've got my work cut out for me with that boy," he thought to himself.

Soren's test was somewhat better, though he clearly had large foundational gaps that needed to be filled. "Not surprising, given their background," Gavric mused as he continued to look over the results.

Next, he glanced at Viktor's papers, and his brow shot up. No obvious mistakes, thoughtful, elegant, if a touch too flowery perhaps, reminiscent of the philosophical writings favored by the highborn. It was unusual, though not impossible, for farmer orphans to possess some rudimentary knowledge if they'd been taken in by a temple or attended lessons. But Viktor’s level? That was something else entirely—peculiar, to say the least.

Gavric’s curiosity got the better of him as he flipped through the taller boy’s papers, his name—Arelos, if he remembered right—coming to mind. The more he read, the slower his steps became, until he reached the essay and stopped dead in his tracks.

“What in the world?” he muttered, his brow furrowed.

Without a second thought, he turned away from the classroom and headed straight for Mikos’ office, the papers clenched tightly in his hand, his mind buzzing with questions.

Bursting into the office, Gavric held up the pages urgently. “You need to see this,” he said, his tone leaving no room for delay.

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Mikos was deep in paperwork when Gavric's sudden entrance startled him, lifting his gaze from a particularly tedious report. He had anticipated Gavric's visit, though not with the urgency now evident in his colleague's eyes. Mikos leaned back in his chair, letting out a weary sigh.

Gavric placed a stack of papers on the desk, interrupting Mikos's train of thought. "You need to look at these right away," Gavric insisted, his voice a blend of bewilderment and awe.

"He’s the son of a magistrate," Mikos began, already preempting what he guessed Gavric had to say. The young instructor was observant and quick to notice discrepancies. Mikos had suspected Viktor's background might catch the man's attention sooner or later. The Avlorios boy was, after all, well-educated beyond his years for reasons Gavric could not yet fathom.

"The withering took them, unfortunately," Mikos continued, keeping his tone steady despite the bitter memories the term "withering" dredged up inside him. "The whole family, before we took him in."

Gavric listened intently, though his eyes were clouded with confusion. "I thought all of them were farmer orphans," he said. "What about Viktor? Surely, you can’t tell me he’s another magistrate’s son."

Mikos blinked, taken aback. “Viktor? I was talking about Viktor. Who did you think I was referring to?”

Gavric tapped the papers. “Arelos. Here, look for yourself.”

"Arelos?" Mikos asked, clearly blindsided by this revelation. He thumbed through the pages, a growing frown accompanying his deepening scrutiny. The more he read, the more astonished he became.

“What in the world?” Mikos muttered, still absorbing the pages.

Gavric chuckled. "My thoughts exactly."

Mikos laid the papers flat on his desk, tapping them lightly out of habit. "These—these works are far beyond standard for any recruit," he admitted, bewilderment edging his voice. It was impressive work, Mikos knew—the kind of analytical prowess only seasoned thinkers possessed.

Gavric interjected, "Is there something about his background we’re missing?" he inquired, sounding hopeful for some insight that Mikos could provide.

Mikos leaned forward, his brows knit together. "We knew he spent time at a temple, receiving basic education, but nothing suggested this level of competence," Mikos said. His mind ran through the network of intel the guild relied upon, feeling the gap keenly at this moment.

"Whatever his background," Gavric replied earnestly, "it’s clear the boy is gifted."

Mikos took a deep breath, nodding. "It’s impressive, no doubt, but it’s just one test. We need more data before making any assumptions about his full capabilities," Mikos conceded, speaking more to himself than Gavric.

"Perhaps meet with Arelos tomorrow," Gavric suggested. "A one-on-one, to see what we’re working with more precisely before deciding on the best approach."