A long wall made of smooth white marble enclosed the academy grounds. Lacking battlements, towers, or any sort of reinforcement, it was little more than a glorified fence rather than a fortification to be used during a siege. If Jon attempted, he wagered he could punch a hole through it.

On its only entrance, a large squad of guards waited at attention. They had twice the numbers of the guards from the city entrance and were led by a man in pristine armor, the left arm colored with green and orange accents. Jon recognized the armor. The man was an Ashen, one of the duke's elite soldiers.

As the trio approached, he stepped forward and greeted them before asking for their identifications.

Nevil produced two coin-shaped tokens from inside his clothes. “My name is Nevil Ullrich and this is Bellatrix Teer. We’ll both be enrolling in the academy this year. And this is Jon, he has just won a spot into the academy through the Squire’s Tourney.”

The Ashen nodded, grabbing two rolled-up scrolls handed to him by one of the guards. “Ullrich and Teer,” he read the names from the first scroll. “You’re both on the list. As for you,” he said, looking at Jon. He unfurled the second scroll, this one more extensive than the first. “Contestant 1703, Jon of Rochdale. You all may pass.”

Immediately after the entrance, the street bifurcated around an upright stone slab half again Jon’s height before rejoining behind it. Engraved on the stone was a heater shield with a hexagon inside of it. Embued on each of its vertices was a lightstone of a different color, representing six of the seven schools of elemental magic. The last one, a purple lightstone representing lightning, sat alone at the hexagon’s center. Behind the shield, a longsword stood with its tip pointing down, its crossguard fashioned like a phoenix’s wings and its pommel as the bird’s head.

“That’s the Phoenix Academy’s sigil,“ Nevil explained. “And bellow it there’s a quote from King Elijah I, the one who envisioned and created the first war academies.”

The ideal noble bears the duty of being a warrior and a scholar. Those who ignore the former aspect are cowards; those who ignore the latter are fools.

— King Elijah I Catton, The Wise

“Back when the first academies were created, only nobles were able to enroll. It took a few centuries until commoners were allowed to enter through the Squire’s Tourney.”

Jon nodded in response, pulling on his mount’s reins as he walked down the cobbled street.

The academy grounds itself felt like a bustling town built for the elite. It had large, colorful buildings, luxurious houses, shops with exorbitant prices, and wide streets that managed to feel spacious despite the number of people walking around. And there were a lot of people. From nobles and servants to priests and guards, Jon saw all sorts of people whichever way he looked, most of them turning to stare at the scruffy half-bred dragging an old mule around.

“That’s a lot of people,” Jon commented.

“Agreed,” Bella said with a nod.

“That’s only for now,” explained Nevil. “The servants are all getting things ready for the beginning of the academic year. Everything will already be settled down when classes begin next week. On the other hand, the number of guards patrolling the streets will get even higher as more and more nobles arrive at the academy.”

That made sense. The duke wouldn’t want anything to happen to his vassals’ sons and daughters while under his protection.

“Now, let’s hurry to the dormitories.” Guiding himself through the various signposts conveniently placed throughout the academy, Nevil led the way.

Finally, they arrived in front of a large, five-story building, its exterior made up entirely of red bricks. In the distance and to its right there was an identical building, though colored orange, and further ahead a third one colored yellow.

Jon tied up his mount to a signpost in front of the dormitory while he waited for Nevil’s next explanation. If there was one upside to his constant talking, then it was that Jon could use it to become more informed about the academy and anything else of interest.

Like clockwork, the nobleman began: “There are seven dormitories in total, one for each academic year. Those enrolling this year will stay here in the red dormitory, the same color as the key you received back then. What is the number on the key, by the way?”

“409,” Jon answered as he walked into the building.

Most of the entrance lobby’s space was taken up by an indoor fountain, a chandelier shining brightly above it. The walls were populated with various paintings, a significant number of them being either landscapes or portraits. To the left and right of the lobby, there was a flight of stairs, covered in a red carpet, leading up.

“409,” Nevil repeated the number. “That means it is on the fourth floor. The stairs on the right side are for the men’s rooms while the ones on the left are for the women’s. For now, we can wander about as we please. When the classes begin, though, we must keep to our side to avoid getting into trouble.”

Nevil walked up the stairs to the right, Bella and Jon following right after him. After four flights of stairs and a long walk to the end of the hallway, they finally arrived in front of the room. Jon slid the key into the hole and unlocked it, the sound of conversation immediately reaching him.

The room was spacious, the left side occupied by three armchairs, a couch, a tea table, and a bookcase. A cool breeze blew into the room through an open door leading to the balcony. On the opposite side to the entrance, there was a closed-door that Jon assumed led to the washroom. As for the right side, it was taken up by four beds, their headboards against the wall and separated by four storage closets.

The source of the conversation was two noblemen, one of them spread out in bed while the other unpacked his belongings into the closet. At the sound of the door opening, they both turned around to look.

Nevil was the first to speak, immediately greeting the two noblemen who promptly returned the gesture.

“So I take it you’re our roommates, correct?” Asked the first noble, still lying on the bed without a care to how it wrinkled his clothes.

“Almost,” answered Nevil, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “This is Jon, and he has just passed the Squire’s Tourney. He has already been assigned to this room. If the last spot hasn’t been taken yet, then I plan on also staying here.”

A large smile formed on the nobleman’s face. He sat up on the bed, pointing towards his companion. “See? I told you, now pay up.”

The second nobleman, a handsome man in a stylish blue doublet, grumbled something. He fished inside his bags, producing a platinum coin and throwing it onto the bed.

“Excuse me?” Nevil asked, confused.

“Don’t worry about that, just a little wager me and my friend here had going,” the nobleman said, pocketing the coin. “I’m Aeron Brodrick, by the way, and this is Deon whatever-whatever.”

“My name is Deon Castex-Lafitte du Bocage,” annoyed, the other man corrected in a thick accent. “And I’ll have you know that each of my surnames carries with it a rich and important histo—”

“Just call him Deon, that’s what I do,” Aeron said, much to Deon’s displeasure.

“I’m Nevil Ullrich and this is Bella Teer, it’s a pleasure to meet you. By the way, you said your last name was Brodrick. Are you perhaps related to lord Brodrick of Cragwall?”

“That’s right, I’m his son actually.”

Nevil paused, seemingly confused. “Forgive my ignorance, but it would be my understanding that lord Brodrick has only married recently, less than five years ago.”

Aeron continued smiling, though it no longer reached his eyes. “Your understanding is correct. My father married lady Teague 3 years, 4 months, and 8 days ago. I’d know because the vindictive cunt has been making my life hell ever since. On the other hand, he has known the castle cook’s daughter, my mother and his mistress, for much longer than that.”

Jon had to hand it to Aeron. He managed to shut Nevil up in just a few minutes from meeting him.

“Though I never really knew if my mother could be considered his mistress,” Aeron continued. “I mean, he and lady Teague weren’t even betrothed yet when I was born.” He shrugged. “Regardless, lady Teague still hated me as if it were the case. That’s why, as soon as I turned 20, my father asked for a favor from His Grace to get me into the academy. So now here I am.”