The lectures lasted all day and touched on a number of topics Zan knew nothing about. Helpful to him, yes. As these were things which the traveling village priest never touched upon. And even then, Zan remembered his religious lectures more as parables and stories. Less as hard-and-fast rules on how and why the world worked. If the priest had touched on issues of social service, it was only as part of his duty to the king.
Zan's time spent sitting and listening to the lecturer gave him a taste of what he imagined university would be like for Jiehong. He liked the change of pace which came from sitting down and absorbing information. It was better than his body becoming sore and unwieldly while traveling all day.
Even so! It didn't change the fact that, being accustomed to traveling all day, Zan felt cooped up from sitting too long. While talking with Winters, he could control himself, however, here, it felt ten-times worse because he was stuffed into a room with so many other people. People who breathed heavy, couldn't stop fidgeting in their armor, causing all sorts of weird noises, and then the smell... farting, burping, grunting, and weird scratching; the never-ending din of squeaking armors brushing up against leathers. It drove Zan up the wall! Almost literally as he did find himself scraping his desk gradually away from his so-called classmates.
By the end of class, Zan could not say how much he learned. With his inability to write and therefore 'take notes,' he could only doodle drawings which went with certain content. A crown might represent the kingship whereas a quibble of a tent might represent soldiering. Sun for the day; moon to represent night. Zan wrote in a quick succession, stringing together different combinations of pictures to represent what the lecturer spoke. Many of the concepts which were spoken of, unfortunately, were of a nature so alien to Zan, he was unsure of how to even represent them through an image. Much less, an image he had no clue on how to draw as he was also thinking of a dozen other images. Class, then, heated Zan's head up and gave him a twirl to his thinking which he could only describe as 'dizzy.'
And then class ended.
What had he learned? Basic soldiering. How to address one's superiors, the basics of flag-waving etiquette, how to use a sword... things which even Zan had found basic.
His favorite section of class was when the teacher talked of the Kingship's history. Tales of heroism and loyalty were spoken of and if even a fraction of it were true, then the king was a remarkable man. He even slew a dragon! A dragon!
Although Zan was too young to look critically at what the teacher said, he found the latter half of the history lecture most interesting: "And it was after the False Rebellion, and the intervention of the Sunstar Principality, when our Lordship secured the future of the kingdom by magnanimously granting certain peasants the right to assemble. Since then, under our proud monarchs and their leadership, the country has continued to thrive and maintain rich diplomatic ties with many entities throughout the world zone."
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
The teacher spoke such things but did not pause for questions. "Next. Break. Then, basics of offensive magic use."
The day dragged on and with nothing to show for it. Initially excited about 'offensive magic use,' Zan was sure he would learn something new. How to more efficiently channel, that sort of thing. Unfortunately, he never did. The class was too basic. Teacher's lecture touched only on elementary channeling exercises Zan had been taught years ago by the village priest. Sure, some satisfaction existed. Zan felt elated, for once, that he was ahead of the proverbial (and in this case, literal) class. Yet Zan did not want recognition. He wanted to advance.
Class dismissed. Zan felt not merely happy, but joyous, to be on his feet again.
Everyone flowed past Zan hurried to get back to their heaths. Jostling him out of their way, many of the recruits who bumped him looked hardly older than Zan. Some even looked downright younger than him. Whatever their age, none of the recruits gave Zan a second glance.
To remain safe in the midst of the stampede, Zan held himself still as everyone passed. With everyone now gone, Zan resumed his march out of the barracks. Outside, he saw a few of the younger recruits from class talking amongst themselves. Though Zan was nearby, none of them talked or even acknowledged him. Hanging around the many fire pits, Zan hoped to grab a snack before he found himself with free time. Coming from another part of the city, though, was a multi-wagon caravan transporting barrels of beer. While he waited for the caravan to pass, Zan overheard what his peers were discussing.
"Want to come over and play with our chickens?" one youth asked the other.
"Play with chickens? What are you going on about?" another replied.
"You know... chickens," he said.
It took a moment for it to click in the older teen's mind. "Oh. Chickens. No. I'm good."
"How about we just smoke and gossip?"
"Smoking is good! I can do that..."
Zan liked to smoke. He attempted to make eye contact with one of them to let them know of his interest in smoking. With them, of course. Yet none of them gave Zan the time of day. One made eye-contact with him, made a face, and left him be.
Well, back to... whatever, Zan told himself, feeling oddly defeated despite the fact he had nothing to feel defeated over.
Minutes later the caravan passed. Zan used the street with the many other people who waited alongside him.
There was no denying how tired he was. Zan had rested a lot during the past few days. As much as he had slept, though, very little of it was restorative sleep. He had fought to keep himself coherent as he waged his vision-wars with holy entities and those more primal. If he had to guess, Zan thought he would need a few days yet more rest before he was back in tip-top shape. He wanted, then, to speak through the echo-beetles and alert his fellows -- Jiehong, Whiskey -- to his obligations ending. With the sun only about to set on the horizon, however, it was too early to gather everyone.
Besides, Zan lamented, he had one final thing to do before bed. He had to find a priest.