The room was simple, with wooden chairs creaking on the floor and a blackboard smeared with chalk dust at the front. Sunlight came in through cracked windows, casting unpatterned patterns on the floor. There were only eight students in the entire school, six of whom were not over ten, their little hands clutching wooden practice swords. In a corner of the schoolyard visible from the window, two older boys, probably fifteen years old, were practicing their swings on a battered training dummy. A teacher, blonde and solidly built, probably in his mid-20s, watched them closely, occasionally correcting their form.

Inside the classroom, Aleck observed the students and the instructor with keen eyes. A young woman with soft brown hair—so much like Rodger's that Aleck immediately guessed they were related—stood at the front. She was graceful but firm, commanding the children's attention with her tone as she spoke about "sword resonance," a technique Aleck already knew from his past. It was a skill revered among knights, one that required bending one's weapon into the astral realm to draw upon its power. Few mastered it in a lifetime, but Aleck knew mastery well.

"Have a seat," she said quietly, gesturing towards the chair, because Aleck had been standing in the doorway. Her smile was warm, honest and it was something of a novelty in Aleck's experience. Surprised out of his reverie, Aleck forced himself to sit beside a boy who was roughly his own age but, as Aleck deduced, did not, on his person, sport anything remotely like the wounds and scars that Aleck bore about within himself.

As Aleck sat, the teacher went on with her lesson. "The principle behind resonance is to bend your sword into the astral world and harness the energy that exists there. It's not merely about the strength or speed but the forging of a bond—a connection—with your weapon. That is why it takes years of practice and dedication to master it." The young pupils were sitting forward, entranced by her words.

For Aleck, it was one dark and distant era. He had read about the resonance of sword in the book but had actually experienced it. The project he belonged to had generated a new wave of warriors, as the children of this project were made to unlock this technique at an unheard-of age of nine years. He almost recalls the tension, sacrifices, and pain reflected through his comrades' faces because they dealt with power meant never to be theirs. All that stirred dimly within him; curled his fists underneath the desk and forced those moments to remain in obscurity.

As soon as the instructor finished her explanation about sword resonance, she smiled warmly and walked towards Aleck. Her voice was soft yet authoritative as she spoke to the room.

"So, students, we have a new friend joining us today. He's older than all of you, so make sure to show him some respect. Why don't you introduce yourself, Aleck?"

Suddenly, everybody shifted the glance in Aleck's direction and all their eyes at that moment had a twinkle of wonder and an excited glint. In response, he froze; such attention and unfamiliar faces staring at him were nothing compared to the energy floating inside the room. Standing, he gripped fists for balance; his palms wet.

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"Uh. my name is Aleck," he started, his voice more subdued than he had wished. Clearing his throat, he continued, "I'm turning 12 this year and like to practice with swords."

Before he could say more, one of the younger students, a boy no older than seven, gasped loudly and pointed. "Is that a real sword?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder as he rushed over to Aleck's side, hands reaching out eagerly to touch the weapon.

Caught off guard by the boy's enthusiasm, Aleck hesitated. The energy in the room seemed to shift, the younger kids whispering and leaning closer to get a better look. Feeling the pressure, Aleck slowly unsheathed the sword and handed it to the boy, unsure of what else to do.

Excited chatter burst forth from the room as the boy clutched the blade clumsily in his tiny hands, the grip on the hilt almost one of awe. Aleck's chest contracted at the unfamiliar attention-the weight was nearly unbearable-and he looked warily over to the instructor.

Stepping into the fray quickly, she spoke calmly but firmly, "All right, that's enough," she said, gently taking the sword from the boy and handing it back to Aleck. "This is not a toy sword, boys. Let's remember how to respect it, all right?"

The children nodded, their excitement fading but never really disappearing. The instructor turned back to Aleck, her expression kind. "You handled that pretty well, Aleck," she said. "Not easy being the center of attention."

Aleck could manage a slight smile as he sat down again, his fingers locking onto the sword as tightly as a drowning man upon an anchor. He drew in slow breaths and the spasm of dread began to recede. For the first time in a very long time, he felt something akin to normal: awkward and overbearing, but normal indeed.

The lesson ended, and the students gathered their belongings to leave for the day. The young teacher addressed them, "That’s all for today, everyone. Tomorrow we’ll learn about the condition of the Kingdom. Aleck, come with me. The principal is looking for you." Aleck followed her outside, watching the rest of the students head off toward their homes.

As they walked toward the house, Perora spoke up, her voice steady though her gaze remained distant. "My name is Perora," she said without looking at him. "I once studied at Olympia Academy, focusing on swordsmanship research. But that's all in the past now. I just help my father." Aleck had heard of Olympia Academy. It was a great place of renown, famous for its strict training and high-level research. Admission to Olympia was not an easy thing; it was restricted to only the brightest and most dedicated. Aleck was deeply struck by the fact that someone like Perora, who had once been part of that great world, now lived in such humble conditions.

As they entered the house, Aleck could not help but notice the deplorable state of the place. The house was small with cracked walls and a somberly lit atmosphere. It pained him to consider how someone who had probably been such an exalted knight of the Kingdom ended up in such poverty. He thought that knights were supposed to be so honored after service, and they should either receive some pension or be otherwise looked after. And yet, here they were in that small, worn-out house.

Perora took him to the kitchen where Rodger was cooking lunch. The scent of soup was everywhere, though simple and humble. As they entered, Rodger, seeing them, smiled and nodded to Aleck to come in and sit. "Make yourself comfortable," he said, smiling gently as he returned to stir the soup. "Let's wait for Dan before we start lunch," he added, trying the soup before turning to Aleck again.

Aleck zoned out for a sec. So, that blonde fella's name is Dan. Perora sat down at the table and motioned Aleck to do the same. Aleck sat down, feeling very odd to be both comfy and uncomfortable at the same time. The place itself was simple, but that quiet warmth in the atmosphere was something he hadn't been able to feel in the longest time.