Roland and Thomas entered through the front gate into a now much livelier Crescent Moon Orphanage. The journey back had been spent mostly in silence.

His easily excitable companion’s ability for self-entertainment remained one of the things Roland appreciated most about him. An eventful morning of work and stories provided Thomas enough fuel to chortle around happily on his own for the rest of the day, silently imagining a plethora of highly unrealistic situations.

Said silence gave Roland time to calm the thoughts running around much too eagerly inside his head. A botched-up vision into an unorthodox repair session coupled with failed plans and big changes had created a bit of a mess.

And although Roland himself placed a lot of importance on thinking things through sufficiently, it was highly obstructive to what he planned to spend the rest this day on.

The act of studying came easy to Roland, however in the past he had often found his results surprisingly lackluster compared to those obtained from physical training. After much contemplation he came to the conclusion that thinking too much was in fact paradoxically the problem.

While monotonous training did not mind wandering thoughts, and often even helped turn those into solutions for one's problems, studying did not work that way. An idle thought introducing himself with fanfare as one read a paragraph remained a surefire way to completely forget anything you just perused instantly. Once Roland realized why he had trouble during his studies, he made it a habit to relax and sometimes meditate beforehand.

Sadly, most other children in the orphanage did not care one zilch for silence. The older ones knew only three members remained in his group for a reason, but those who arrived in recent years did not experience the Crescent Moon Helper’s darker days, only seeing Roland’s current renown and taking him as an example of success.

Instead of staying out of sight and minding his business like expected of people like them, Roland had forced himself into the social circles of Soren. Almost every month there a new story circulated, talking about the Crescent Helpers and their oftentimes weird projects.

For many of these children Roland became an idol, him being someone who made it out of their dreary home and stepped into a brighter world, notwithstanding the fact that he literally slept in the same building as them.

But as was widely known throughout the world and all of history, kids don’t tend to think things through. This unfortunately led to a veritable storm of children surrounding the duo the second they entered the courtyard.

“Big Bro Roland, what did you do outside?”

“Mr. Roland, can you take me with you?”

“Tommy, give us something tasty!”

“Can I go to the toilet?”

These two were badly equipped for situations like these. Arthur’s mere presence could have spooked most of these children easily. And Stephan too was a master of making dark faces in order to, as he liked to call it, ‘keep the brats away’. Thomas on the other hand could be practically categorized as a fellow brat himself, while Roland practically oozed approachability.

Greeting his many housemates with a strained expression, the Crescent Moon Helper’s glorious leader had no one but himself to blame for this self-inflicted curse. Maybe I should start being meaner in general. Parting the sea of bopping heads, Roland wished for a world where he looked as imposing as Arthur. Briefly.

He did not truly consider the possibility of adopting a more uninviting personality for now. Need to stay cooperative, at least until I am strong enough to deal with things on my own.

Once their steadily growing group reached the dormitory Roland whispered to Thomas, “Keep them entertained, I’ll be back quick.”

Thomas who had been happily bumping around the children like an oversized ball suddenly turned extremely serious upon hearing his Boss’s orders.

In a stroke of brilliant madness, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Follow me for treasure!” before running towards the main building at top speed.

Roland blinked his eyes in mild horror as he watched the horde practically somersault over themselves in their wild chase. Luckily, I did not plan on spending any more time here today. Zero chance this does not end with grumpy staff members lecturing someone. And Roland had no interest in being around for that, even if he was unlikely to be the one who received a scolding.

The dormitory looked like a ghost town during this time of day. When choosing between musty air in cramped rooms or the fresh outside world there wasn’t much of a competition.

Entering their room, Roland took out a stack of books from under his bed.

He acquired most of them through Stephan, but a few were actually presents. A particular worn down one titled ‘Modern History after the Firmament Empire’s Fall’ had been a gift from Grandma Dorothy for his thirteenth birthday and remained an absolute favorite of his, no matter how often he read it.

The way decades of history, for an area so mindbogglingly large Roland had trouble imagining it, were written down in a couple short paragraphs seemed mystical to him. An hour of reading could lead him through several lifetimes' worth of wars and revolutions. One of his greatest wishes was to read a history book detailing earlier times of history. I was really looking forward to finding some good ones in the capital’s library. Well, not like they’ll run away if I have to wait a year longer.

Besides this and several other history books there were many about math, language, etiquette and one a singular book about music theory. Said book was also the most pristine looking, as a short five-minute session ended up being all the time Roland spend getting acquainted with it before losing interest.

It somehow was not the most useless book he owned however. That title went to ‘Magic Spells for Beginners’. A much too grand name for what turned out to be a bunch of fertility charms and similar superstitious rituals. The saying to not judge a book by its cover certainly applied both ways.

The things Roland ended up taking with him for today’s study session were one questionable book called ‘Vasperi Knight Academy Ultimate Success Exam Guide!’, a couple reference books, and a few loose papers scribbled full with math problems one of the teachers wrote for him a while ago.

Although the guide seemed slightly suspect, especially considering its publishing date lay a good decade in the past, Stephan had repeatedly assured him that the exam questions stayed shockingly similar over the years. Roland simply hoped whoever told this to his sketchy companion was not full of shit.

The math problems were about two thirds done and Roland had high hopes of finishing them today. I better get something nice for Teacher Samuel, otherwise it’ll be weeks before he actually looks at these. He seemed to like the wooden duck Stephan got for him last time, maybe another bird?

Having gotten what he came for, Roland steeled his nerves. The incredibly loud screeching coming out of the main building was more than enough to make him initiate a tactical retreat. Brisk pace, but not so fast it could be construed as running away, Roland headed towards the main gate.

The few people he passed on the way alternated their looks from him to the source of these otherworldly screams, but choose to remain uninvolved in the whole situation. There were quite a few habitual tattletales who enjoyed getting praised by the staff for their reports, none however stupid enough to try snitching on Roland.

Even ignoring some less forgiving members of his group, the simple fact Roland’s activities gave the orphanage good publicity made it highly likely that reporting him would end up with the staff ignoring it, or worst case, blaming them instead.

Close to the main gate Roland brought a hand towards his mouth and used a small inner control trick he had picked up from some soldiers to let out a very loud whistle. A few seconds of dizziness and burning lungs being the only side effects he had to endure to use this convenient ability.

Real Knights could let their voice be heard several miles away, or even restrict it to a specific area. With himself still quite far away from being consider a beginner, this parlor trick was all Roland could manage. Not that he needed more for his current situation.

The main building’s entrance burst open when Thomas jumped out with all the grace of a stampeding cow. He ran towards the source of the whistle, imaginary tail wiggling behind him at supersonic speeds. Roland decided to pick up the pace until they were out of the immediate vicinity and fell into a light jog.

Once they put a couple streets behind them, he slowed down and gave Thomas a few of the books, before praising the resourceful boy, “Good job Tommy, really quick and efficient.”

“Thanks, Boss. The idea came real sudden. Like you said something and I totally knew what to do instantly,” Thomas replied, content with his performance. Maybe a bit too content even. “Ain’t nobody been born yet who can withstand my brilliant schemes.”

The hell is that a scheme. Roland gave a wry look at his overly proud friend and inquired jokingly, “What kind of treasure did you guys end up finding over there?”

“Friendship,” Thomas answered without missing a beat.

Roland had half expected his friend to ask him what he was talking about, so when the latter replied in such matter-of-fact way, he needed to take a few seconds to take in what he just heard, before breaking out in uncontrollable laughter. A certain pudgy boy’s wholly serious face only helped further his amusement.

Despite not really getting what seemed so funny, Thomas nonetheless appreciated that his friend was enjoying himself because of him. Sporting a proud grin, he said, “It’s good you are relaxed again, Boss. You were acting like an edge recently.”

Momentarily confused by the choice of words Roland quickly understood what Thomas meant. Did I now. How come he only is perceptive when it comes to things like these?

“On edge you mean,” he corrected his friend with a wry smile.

“That doesn’t sound right,” Thomas commented, looking skeptical.

A resigned sigh came out of Roland, eyes looking troubled. Although he lived a, what many people would consider, stressful life, years of practice had given him a certain steadiness. If he acted more stressed recently it could only be because of new factors.

And seeing that he suddenly acted more relaxed after their plan fell through, it appeared the glorious leader of the Crescent Moon Helpers had all along been anxious about applying for the Academy.

And who could blame him? A poor orphan without any formal training, trying to force his way into one of the two most exalted educational institutes in all of Vasperi.

One had to know that early admission was an entirely different beast than getting accepted normally. Yes, those who managed to acquire a recommendation would enroll one year earlier, but not for regular classes.

All that awaited them would be a year-long testing process, evaluating whether the student possessed enough talent to qualify for the academy’s gifted classes, the so called ‘Officer Track’. Named so aptly, seeing as nine tenths of all higher ranked military personal went through it

You would spend a whole year full of grueling training and tests. And if you were not up to par, like most ended up being, the Academy would plainly tell you to leave and come back next year for normal enrollment.

Question a hundred people if Roland should do it, and a hundred would tell him to stop dreaming. Do the same with a thousand and put the handful that said yes on a list. ‘Possible future dissidents’ or something along those lines.

Now if one were to ask Roland himself if he actually wanted to take on these challenges in the first place…

It doesn’t matter. Whether I get accepted early or not all. Whether I train under powerful teachers or have to drag myself through the dirt on my own. The only thing that matters is I need to get stronger. To save more people. To fulfill my duty.

How easy things could be. After all, if it didn’t matter what a person wanted, they simply had to do what was expected of them, even if said expectations were their own. What an absolutely healthy mindset.

Creed reaffirmed, Roland promised himself he would be more careful about letting matters like this affect him. It would be unacceptable if his distractions led to them failing one of their missions.

“The early admission plan we had worked on seems to have put more stress on me than expected, which is why I could have been on edge. I guess in a way a weight has been lifted of my shoulders now that it failed,” Roland explained to his friend, choosing to politely ignore the quick look Thomas gave his shoulders.

“I see,” Thomas mumbled in thought, still not convinced by Roland’s way of using the phrase. “It was honestly too complicated of a plan. Those never work."

“Complicated plans in general or just mine?” Roland asked, interested in his friends sagely opinion.

Thomas made a big sweeping gesture with his arms and delivered his revelation, “All of them of course. If you make a plan, you gotta make it simple. And if there is lots to plan, make a bunch of simple plans instead of one big one. Works way better, because if one of the simple ones ends up a bust you only need to replace that one, instead of having everything fall apart.”

Roland looked towards the sky, displaying a mixture of amused resignation and slight concern on his face. If Thomas’ words start making this much sense we better look out for other signs of an impending apocalypse.

Seeing that the sky was currently not spewing brimstone upon the earth, Roland figured it would be a while longer before the end.

“Good advice, Tommy. Make sure you also tell it to Stephan next time you see him,” Roland happily threw his fellow planner under the proverbial carriage.

“Obviously I am gonna do that, Boss,” Thomas replied with certainty. “Stephan really likes constructive criticism after all.”

Done with their momentary hijinks they once again continued onward in comfortable silence. Roland looked forward to studying peacefully, no work and schemes in sight. At least until his next vision.

The sight they saw upon their return however made it obvious there were still some problems left to be solved. Though Roland comforted himself with the knowledge that it would hopefully be over quickly. Question is how much willpower I’ll have remaining afterwards.

Taking a deep breath, he put on his most polite smile, before walking towards Arthur, who currently rested under the shade of a tree all on his lonesome.

Their newest member on the other hand stood next to the bridge’s entrance, currently surrounded by either a colorful ensemble from the nearest circus or a bunch of noble children. You never knew for sure until it was time to perform, sometimes not even then.

Arthur noticed his leader’s approach and gave a cheap salute, seemingly quite happy to have Claire occupied by her ‘friends’.

Well can’t have everything. Best think about how to end this without any incident.

“Take these and wish me luck,” Roland told Arthur, passing along his books, before valiantly charging towards the fray. Using casual walking speed.

Thomas, who usually excelled in joining any group, displayed some reservations about this particular gathering. The highborn’s tongues were quite sharp at times, especially towards people not fitting their standards.

So instead of joining Roland, he walked next to Arthur and started telling him about treasures and plans. Most likely trying to enlist the valuable talent on his search for hidden pirate gold.

Looking at the sight before him made it apparent Roland had not been quick enough to save this part of the slums from welcoming a new sort of clientele onto its dirty streets.

The surrounding area, entirely void of any of its regular inhabitants, now housed several groups of servants standing around idly here and there, looking truly out of place.

Some more rough looking ones appeared to be hired guards, though none of them had any weapons, because only the city guards were allowed to bear arms. Something which hardly made these guards defenseless however. Any real Knight could easily shatter most common steel blades using just his fists.

As for how many of them actually were fully fledged Knights, that was hard to tell. Considered remote in the grander scale, Seasons’ unique circumstances led to an abundance of profitable business opportunities. And money never failed to move people, even Knights. Now finding a Mage among these people on the other hand would be considered a miracle.

Some of the servants Roland passed gave him annoyed looks, though he won over most of them with his amicable smile.

“Mister Roland. I am glad you are back,” Claire noticed Roland’s approach and instantly called out.

The latter was taken aback for a second, not having expected for her to put him into the spotlight immediately. He however relaxed a second later, returning the greeting, “Miss Claire. I see many of your friends have arrived in my absence.”

She probably spend some time thinking about the best approach so I’ll let her lead. Hopefully these two noble idiots don’t make it too hard.

None of the numerous disrespectful thoughts visible on his face, Roland joined this little gathering while the crowd parted to give him a way towards the center.

Over there Claire and a select few important nobles stood. It would not be an exaggeration to say the vast majority of the people here were nothing more than a peanut gallery, whose only purpose was to support the ones of actual importance they followed.

Said important ones were two boys, one dressed in fabulous fabrics and the other in military style gear, as well as a single girl with long blonde hair in a frilly white dress with a conspicuous silver mark on her forehead.

Roland had already met these people before, some only briefly, some for much longer than both parties liked. And although he couldn’t say to know them well, he possessed a sufficient enough understanding to avoid conflict. If possible in the first place.

The blonde girl was Tanya Cotales, also known as Claire’s self-proclaimed sister due to her she spending as much time as possible glued to the latter’s side. Which ended up being a lot less than one would think, seeing that most noble maidens did not have even a fraction of Claire’s free time. Especially not the daughter of Seasons’ only bishop.

Her father was sent by the Lunar Church to assume responsibility over Soren’s cathedral. And as there were no other settlements in Seasons large enough to warrant assigning such a high-ranking member to them, it made him the de facto leader of all surrounding clergy.

An aura of regality seemed to emanate from Tanya’s small body, in greater part because of the vertical line seemingly drawn onto her forehead. It made onlookers wonder whether they should lower their heads or possibly dive post-haste into the dirt. Luckily her young age, around the same as Claire’s, stopped any impromptu worship sessions from happening.

The sharply dressed boy with a buzz cut exuding a soldier’s aura opposite of her was Bardric Ellward. After Roland’s trusty lieutenant's tactical retreat, he became the tallest of those gathered. And while not as towering as Arthur’s gigantic figure, his younger age gave him a not negligible possibility of eclipsing the latter in the future.

Muscles tightly packed against his form fitting leather armor, he looked more like a soldier than a child. Which was also how he felt.

The Ellwards were a longstanding family of soldiers, Bardric’s grandfather having held Commander Grace’s current position in the past before Unfortunate circumstances had forced him to retire despite being at the prime of his strength.

Having to give up their honored title to an outsider had been a great shame for their family. And also the reason why Bardric’s education ended up being solely focused on one thing. Reclaiming their honor.

Trying desperately to fulfill his family’s expectations ended up making him the undisputed champion of Soren’s younger generation. He furthermore, in Roland’s humble opinion, was a gigantic piece of shit.

A strict education and harsh demands set by one's elders might be a good excuse for having a bad personality, but for the victims of said personality it mattered little. Bardric had, after a life of being pushed to the top, developed quite the superiority complex.

To him almost everyone living in Soren was either an untalented commoner or spoiled noble. And while he couldn’t go overboard against the nobles, helping some wayward orphans with their training was a good way for him to relieve stress and contribute to society at the same time.

His sparring sessions mostly stopped since he started courting Claire, but for members of the Crescent Moon Orphanage and anyone living in the slums his name still darkened faces.

Roland and Thomas never ‘sparred’ with him, in earlier times due to their unassuming appearances, and later thanks to their renown. Arthur on the other hand had been on the receiving end many a times when he had been younger. He was smart enough not to seriously consider revenge against the heir of a prominent noble family, but a deep-seated dislike remained. One shared by his companions.

Only good thing about him is he keeps the other annoyances away.

Said other annoyances were Claire’s previous suitors, who after some soul searching decided to give up on her around the time Bardric proclaimed his undying love.

His last remaining competitor was the last of the three currently standing with Claire. Gorgeously dressed in colorful clothing, golden seams elevating the bright colors into something refined. His hands shined in a soft glow that came from several gemstones embedded in his armband and multiple rings.

If Stephan’s getup was worth several families' net worth, then this boy’s would be enough to buy everything in the slums multiple times over.

Despite the gaudy display his disposition appeared welcoming and warm. Like a friend one hadn’t seen in a long time. A friend who would like nothing more than tell you about a brilliant business opportunity you should under no circumstances miss out on.

His name was Ayer Toktuam, and unlike the cold strength Bardric’s family wielded his own employed a different kind of power. One every bit as powerful and at times much crueler. Money.

And we were not talking about regular noble money here. This was such a copious amount of money, one of the family’s biggest expenditures were the numerous magic studies they financed to increase their storage artifacts’ capacities.

Hailing from the trader kingdom of Medae, the Toktuam group was considered the richest merchant association in the entire continent. And although only a relatively minor branch placed here to oversee a volatile trading hub, Ayer’s family’s wealth still remained very much the real deal.

Their standing gave them a certain diplomatic immunity, allowing them to circumvent the often-changing owners of Seasons and instead focus on more important matters. Such as sticking their hands into every pie they came across. Even if said pie belonged to a ‘former’ general’s family.

One proud, one cunning, these two families twisted their vines throughout the entirety of Soren. The Lunar Church was unshakable and any more renowned family had long left towards the capital, or clawed their way towards a fiefdom for themselves. In the end their only real rivals were each other.

In the past this led to heated conflicts between these two factions, each vying for supremacy. A certain wayward Mage being appointed as city lord had cooled those conflicts down to a more comfortable temperature.

So now instead of these families fighting for control of the city, their progenies fought over the hand of a maiden. Or something along those lines.

Now these two lovely gentleman and Tanya had extremely few things in common, besides being of noble blood and their obsession with Claire. But one thing all three shared was that they, to a mind-boggling degree, did not care whatsoever about the worthless hoodlum known as Roland Crescent. In the past that was.

Back then he was just the cities’ little orphan mascot, running around with his teeny, tiny friends doing whatever they were doing. Truly, the world had been a better place during those times.

For some otherworldly reason their radiant gem took an interest in this worthless cretin, and even planned on joining his ragtag group of walking dirt on their ‘adventures’. So once they saw their beautiful Claire greet this diseased fleabag, there obviously only remained one course of action.

“Brother Roland! How great it is to see you again,” smile threatening to tear apart his face, Ayer slung an arm around his long-lost brother’s shoulder, greeting him enthusiastically.

After all, shame was not something known to most nobles, least of all the ones that came to their status using money.