POV: Joseph Moon

I’m currently four years old, and soon it’ll be my fifth birthday making me roughly 29 now. I’ve been getting private lessons from the tutors in this house since my 3rd birthday, and boy, do nobles start learning early.

It’s 969 of the Chrovnir calendar. From what I've heard, the calendar changes every 1000 years and resets, so I don’t know how long the history of this world goes back. The year is also split into 8 months with 40 days in each, representing the 8 base gods of the world. I am looking around my current little office, which is my refurbished old bedroom, having simply removed the cot and added things you need for learning: a chair, desk, and blackboard. Everything was relatively crude in design and uncomfortable to sit in.

Waiting for my tutor for today's lesson to arrive, I struggle to stay still in this chair. I can't tell whether it's the chair or this child's body's instincts telling me to get up and run around, but I am fighting with everything I've got.

Hearing the door open and seeing that my tutor has finally arrived, I can finally relax as there's something to distract me now. The tutor for today was the current head maid, which would explain why she was late, considering all the other things she has to do around here.

I look at the stoic head maid named Ann. She was a fairly average person in height and looks, but she was also a skilled fighter, From what my Father had said. She looks earnest with her brown hair in a tight ponytail draping down her back and her glasses on her face.

“Young master, sorry for my lateness. We will begin your lesson promptly.”

With no room for small talk, Ann promptly begins the lesson, firstly going over the geography in the region with maps and names of countries, the name of our country is called Ghore, and the main border powers are; Oserde to the East, Mhoried to the north, Roesone to the south and Avanil to the west. These were the current powers in this small region, and while the Spiderfell was considered very dangerous, we didn’t touch on that as it’s not a country but monster territory.

I currently live in a city simply named Moon. Apparently, the names of smaller towns like this don’t stick and tend to be swapped around all the time. They are named after the current city lord, but with the count being a position that could work directly under the royal family or any of the duke or marquess’ counts tend to only rule over the city for a limited time to gain experience before changing hands.

This country seems to run off a class-based system with baron being the lowest, then viscount, count, marquess, duke and then the king. There is also a system of ranks in which your strength is determined, with F being the weakest going to A as the most realistic strength one can achieve.

“Joseph, what rank is above A rank?”

“Above rank A is S, then SS and SSS; currently the highest known ranks.”

“Good. What separates the S classes from the A ranks?”

“S classes are considered the domain of the gods, and to transcend into S class leads you to shed your mortal coil, greatly enhancing your strength and life span.”

“Yes, you’re not wrong, but I’m looking for a more political answer?”

Looking at her scrunched eyebrows, I see she's disappointed, but I like to think I’ve done an excellent job absorbing all this knowledge. It's not something a typical four-year-old can do. It’s just Ann was always a strict teacher and liked to ask leading questions to get a response from me.

“Hmm, okay, when you reach S class you are on a different playing field, and according to international law, you aren't allowed in wars, but this is a law that has many clauses and many loopholes. In an ideal world, S classes are allowed to command an army, and they are allowed to enter the battlefield as long as both countries have agreed to send them into battle. Can you tell me why S classes are generally not used in war?”

Here she is again with the leading questions, but I can’t say I dislike it. I never really enjoyed school when I was younger, but this one-on-one teaching is definitely more enjoyable.

“S classes are scarce and are the country's greatest treasures as only an S class can fight an S class, and if a dragon or another S class beast happened to enter our territory, it would spell disaster if all the S classes were in a war somewhere else.”

“Good, very good” Seeming to have finally pleased her, she drops the line of questioning, going on to other subjects but not before she hides the little smirk creeping up on her face.

The lesson was straightforward from here on as it consisted of maths and common language, which I had already gotten the hang of. With the class over, Ann takes me around the house to see father and the head knight Gabrial.

Walking through the corridors, we see a painting of a dignified man in his 30s. He had short red hair and a sword scar that covered his right eye spanning from his forehead to his chin; his remaining red eye seemed to look directly at me and sent a shiver down my spine. He appeared to be dressed in some form of military attire, almost as if at a ceremony. I also noticed his earrings, shaped like a crescent moon. Underneath the painting is a gold plaque that reads ‘what could have been’.

“Your Father made this painting in honour of your grandfather.”

Looking at Ann, I see a little sadness in her eyes, unusual for her expressionless face; wondering what this man was like, I ask Ann the basic questions and patiently wait for an answer.

“ His name was Berker Moon, your grandfather; he served in the war against Osoeede and died in that war. He was an A rank qi master and B rank mana master, the head of the knights for the Kumar household, and he gave his life to save Duke Grimhilt. It’s said that if he was 1 inch further away at the time, he would have sustained an injury like this and could have survived the attack, but that was not the case.”

Looking again at the man in the painting, there was a lot to digest, whether it was the fact that he was an A rank which put him in the top 5% for power in the continent or the fact that Father painted this in tribute to his father. The fact that He served as a head knight to the Kumar household, which was my mother's house, made this even more complicated to the point where I didn’t even know where to begin, but there was something I needed to ask first.

“How did you know him?”

Looking at her face, I could feel the sorrow leaking from her. The fact she hasn’t looked at the painting once spoke wonders to her feelings.

“I was in an adventurer party with your father and Gabriel. We were young and stupid and wanted to get away, we left at 16 on an adventure, but that was short-lived. 2 years later, we got word that Berker died in battle, and we were to return to send him off. I know we couldn’t have known that he would die, but I still wonder whether he would have strived to live instead of sacrificing himself for the duke if we had stayed.”

Seeing how Ann has finally looked up to meet eyes with the painting speaks wonders about what she must be feeling. The fact that she is practically squeezing the life out of my hands says a lot as well; pulling gently on her hand, she was able to snap out of her stupor, and after wiping her eyes with her free hand, she pulls me away from the painting.

Making it to the training yard quickly, I see my siblings standing off to the side, looking worse for wear which doesn’t really bode well for my future here. In the middle of the training yard were my father and Gabrial. From what Ann said, I can guess they were more like friends than master and servant.

Gabrial had short black hair and a distinctly chiselled face, which some people would find intimidating compared to my father's more handsome look. He stood holding a long sword, compared to my father's sword and shield approach. Lunging forward, Gabrial strikes aiming for father's head only to be swiftly blocked by his shield, which was quickly followed up by a thrust. Dodging the thrust, Gabrial manages to keep his balance despite the weight of the blade.

And as their back and forth continues, my eyes fail to catch up with the speed of the moves. The clangs of metal on metal rang in the arena, and dust was beginning to pick up due to the force of their attacks.

“God, those two still don’t know how to tone it down. Their spares were always like this even back then.”

I look back at Ann to see a fond smile on her face, quickly looking back to the action. I can make it out better now, clearly seeing the smiles on both of their faces as they exchange blows that could kill the average person as if they were having a play fight.

Eventually, the cheap training iron can’t keep up with the onslaught of attacks, and Gabrials' weapon is first to break. Even then, Fathers looks like it would fall apart at any moment anyway, so it’s hard to determine the victor even after all that.

Looking to the side of the yard, I see my siblings making their way over to him probably for one last lesson; noticing something in the corner of my eye, I see that Father is looking at me, waving me down.

Making my way to him, I can’t help but feel my heart pumping faster than I thought it could, I have heard about It, but it’s something else to see in person. The limits of this world seem much more exciting than my last, and looking at this mountain in front of me sets something off in me.

“Hahaha, I like the look in your eyes, son, just like when I was younger; well, wait until you're five. By then, it’ll be time for you to start and see a new side of the world.”

Standing here looking up at him and seeing the massive grin on his face, I find myself wishing that I would just grow up quicker, but until then, all I can do is watch.