《Mace of Domination》 1: Graduation I am looking out of the window as I contemplate my life up until this point. The academy will soon end its curriculum for us in the third year, and I will be out in the real world. I am not looking forward to it. I know what awaits me due to my upbringing. Being the third son of a count, I have spent most of my life in luxury, but at the same, having the natural order of things pounded into me. That order is exemplary shown by my father and my uncles. My father is a useless man, only concerning himself with enjoying his wealth and status, while his brothers run around, doing all the hard work, managing the territory, setting tolls and taxes, negotiating with other territories. Their position in life is not determined by ability, by outlook, by personality or anything other than a thing that says little about them. Only the birth order has subjected my uncles to these poor circumstances. Even this academy¡¯s existence serves to perpetuate this injustice. The only people to go here are the young men and women born of the primary holders of nobility, who are not set to inherit the title. Only sons not first-born and women attend this school, and in turn, only those gain the skills of governing. It only serves to perpetuate the injustice. Strangely enough, everyone seems okay with it. At least they are not serfs, doomed to toil away in the fields for the rest of their life. At least they are not soldiers, doomed to throw away their only life in a conflict they have no control over. So they seem to think. It is strange. Do they not feel the injustice? The hatred born by being fates to serve an incompetent superior? But alas, such are the ways of the world, set by the great founder Arkon. The western country of Pikos has always functioned this way and always will, is what we are told. There¡¯s only one thing that can change that fact. Every one thousand years, or so the legend goes, Arkon¡¯s power returns to the world. His legendary scepter, locked in his monument here in the capital, will find a new owner and supreme ruler of the land. As to what that power is, apparently it is to govern. I wonder if it just the power to make good decisions for the country, or something else? Some unique kind of magic? How I fantasize about being in that position. I would show the world how it is done right. To uplift those of ability and leave behind those without. To boot all the fat, lazy bastards off their petty thrones and feed them to wolves, and usher in an era of prosperity by giving their positions to those worthy of it. A world where wealth is overflowing, troubles few and people can dedicate themselves to enriching the culture, or researching magic, or anything else, as long as it is not the current job of squeezing every last bit of wealth out of a territory only to feed the base desires of those in power. I like escaping into this fantasy. It is comforting, whilst I know I can do nothing to change the unfair order of the world. I know that every single noble, whom has turned adult will be subject to touch the scepter, to have it recognize oneself as the new Arkon. But the chance of it being me, who is chosen to wield that power, is astronomically low. That is one of the reasons I treasure these days, before the time of dreaming of a better future is stolen away from me. Three weeks remain. One week of classes. One week of exams. One of week of vacation, while the grading is being done. Then we will all be led into the monument on the day of graduation, pledge our allegiance while touching Arkon¡¯s scepter, and be sent back home, ready to serve the next lord in the line of succession. Well, for the men, at least. Women will be sent home and tried to be pawned off to the one of highest status possible, so that their family can reap the rewards of that influence. ¡°Al, hey Al! Helloooo Alepo?¡± I am brought back to reality by a rude friend. ¡°What now, Pist?¡± I look upon the friend of few years. His blonde, disheveled hair, his clear blue eyes, full of naivety, and his large frame being his characteristics. ¡°Class is already over, but you didn¡¯t move. You promised to help me with economics!¡± The relationship between Pist and I is not as deep as he thinks. From my perspective, a few things are clear. First off, he is a complete idiot, who relies completely on my help to make it through most classes. Secondly, he is strong and provides cover for me, who has a bit of a tendency of creating enemies through my particular hobby. Lastly, he thinks we are the best of friends, ready to die for each other. I only like him a little for the services he provides, but I don¡¯t see a reason to correct him. He has proven useful on more than one occasion. ¡°Sorry, I was thinking about something. This last week of reviews isn¡¯t useful to me¡± His eyes shine as I talk. ¡°You¡¯re so smart, Al! To not need these reviews, to remember it all from the beginning!¡± I have certainly proved to be among the top through the years, but his praise is always a good boost to my mood. As I gather my stuff, my pencils, notebooks and textbooks laid out to make me look busy, another soul barges into our classroom to disrupt my peaceful days. I have been expecting her for a little while. ¡°AL! You piece of shit, what did you say to Mila?¡± What the short, red-haired ball of rage refers to is my, as of recent, ex-girlfriend. ¡°Hmmm? I merely think that I told her I had grown tired of her?¡± That¡¯s not completely true. After all, one of my ways of coping with the powerlessness inherit to my position in life, is to take down people a peg or two, when I can. I believe I gave her quite the extensive list of reasons, as to why she was useless and undeserving of my, and anyone else¡¯s affection. ¡°AL, YOU LIAR!¡± Her head has turned increasingly red, as if it was trying to match the color of her hair. ¡°There¡¯s no way she would be lock herself in the bathroom, if that is all you said!¡± Heh, so it had that great of an effect? It somehow fills me with a twisted sense of joy. ¡°You¡¯re always like this! Three years and you did not remedy your despicable behavior from day one!¡± ¡°Calm down, Fotia, I am sure Mila was just overreacting¡± To my defense springs the ever-trusting Pist. I don¡¯t think he has ever doubted a word I have said in my life. ¡°Yeah, Fotia, can¡¯t you see that it is merely misunderstandings and ill rumors, that has given you this picture of me? Your reprimands are completely misplaced!¡± I act innocent, but only because I know it is what will piss Fotia off the most. Given her history of being the first girl I made cry in this academy, she of course knows that I am full of bullshit, and she will only grow frustrated in this situation, where the majority advocates for me. ¡°Pist, can¡¯t you see how he is manipulating you?¡± Oof, big mistake, using such a word as ¡®manipulate¡¯ with Pist, he will of course defend me after this. ¡°Why do you never listen to Al? Just try believing him and you will see that everything he tells is the truth!¡± Ah, good old Pist. He really has no idea how stupid that sounded. I am going to miss not having you around when I am sent back home. ¡°You¡­ you¡­ ARGH!¡± Fotia gives up in the face of incredible blind belief, and storms out. ¡°This isn¡¯t over! I will get you one of these days!¡± Is heard from down the hallways. I have heard those threats for more than two years already. While most have learned not to mess with me, poor Fotia has developed some sort of complex regarding me and have been proceeding to bang her head against a wall for her whole academy life, trying to bring me down and make me feel sorry. It is quite annoying, and one of my miscalculations, but it does provide a certain spice to this life of mine. I have since learnt from my mistakes and only targeted the more timid, insecure girls to mess around with. ¡°Well then, dear Pist, shall we relocate to the study hall?¡± I have to think if I want to mess with Pist, before we separate virtually forever. He has been a phenomenal shield and support, so I suppose I should spare him. But still, the imagination of Pist feeling betrayed at the very end, the realization that all he believed in for these couple of years turning out to be false, the despair he must feel at my words, that scene seems so delicious to me, that I have a hard time of talking myself out of it. As we walk down the halls, many eyes throw disdainful glances at me, proof of my many victories here at the academy. Behind each scornful stare, is a story of a personal triumph, of me leaving these poor people in shambles with only a few words and a little misdirection. As the years passed by and the rumors went on, I had expected my reputation to insulate further victims from my grasp, but with the help of the large oaf, who is walking beside me, it has proven all too easy time and time again to convince people that I am merely a poor, misunderstood young man, whom the masses have taken a disliking to.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. After all, could a top student, who spends his scarce free time to aid his friend with all manner of subjects, really be a crook? Could such a handsome young lad really harbor such a dark disposition, as only seeking to hurt others? To most people personally uninvolved with the victims, it would come off as ludicrous, if they spent some time observing me studying diligently in class, or helping out Pist in the study hall. I wonder if there even is a point to keeping up the charade any longer. If it is worth spending my remaining on Pist? If I even have enough time to pull off one last, deceiving ploy, before I will have to return to the land of painful reality, it would only be if I ditched him. I leave it for later, as I tutor Pist on common clauses included in taxes and tolls. ¡°Excuse me, Al?¡± The one who intrudes on our public study session, is a young girl from the first year called Gia. ¡°Is it really true? That you were mean to Mila?¡± She has swarmed loosely around me since the beginning of the year, but I have steered clear of her as best I can. The reason being my fear of creating another Fotia. Though she isn¡¯t too bright, and appears smitten with me, I can tell she is not only of high moral character, but also a very stout and resolute being. If I scorned her, I am sure yet another girl would ceaselessly pursue me and plan my downfall. ¡°Of course it wasn¡¯t, little Gia. I merely conveyed my concern, that the relationship wouldn¡¯t function past graduation, and she broke down into tears and ran away, leaving me completely unable to comfort her. If only I could have told her in an easier way.¡± I call her little, because she appears rather insecure of her large size for a woman. ¡°Oh, poor Al, always ending up in these sort of troubles.¡± She is squirming a bit and fiddling with her brown hair. My body language right now closes her off, but if I just open up a bit more, I am certain she will hug me. And so I do. Relax my shoulder, turn a bit to her side, looking as sad as I can without forcing a fake tear. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong with me. Always hurting those I care about. If only people could read my thoughts directly.¡± I say, with a purposefully slightly wavering voice, and lo and behold, the large woman engulfs me with her arms, her sizable breast to my head. ¡°Oh, poor Al. Everything will be alright, she is just overreacting¡± I have to fight the smirk that wants to form on my face. Really, women who seem taken with my face are the easiest to manipulate in this world. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m okay¡± I mutter in a low voice with an unsure tone, making Gia separate from me slowly, while giving me a worried look. ¡°But¡­ Al¡­ doesn¡¯t that mean you aren¡¯t set to¡­. marry¡­ after graduation?¡± Many of us less fortunate souls are encouraged to find an engagement partner here at the academy, one of the reasons I had to shove Mila away now, so that such a scenario doesn¡¯t play out at my home territory. I don¡¯t plan on getting married. I have seen how that ends up, with my cousins being even lower in rank than my uncles, often forced to be mere servants to the noble house, only marginally better off than serfs. I don¡¯t want to bring kids into this world, if they are doomed to such a fate. ¡°Sorry, Gia, can you leave that topic alone? I have yet to sort out my own feelings.¡± I have to shove her away, at least until graduation. If I accepted this woman as one last chance of living out my twisted desires, I have a hunch it will only end in catastrophe. Fotia has had almost three years to vent her frustrations on me, but if I just disappeared from Gia after hurting her¡­ She might very well chase me down all the to my territory, that¡¯s the feeling I get. ¡°I¡­ I understand¡± Gia says softly and slowly leaves us alone. ¡°It¡¯s amazing how much girls like you, Al. I wish I could be half as popular as you¡± Pist weighs in. He easily could but he is a meathead, who only understands strength. If he learned to fire off a few specific lines and take a little better care of his hair and clothes, he would be swimming in attention from the opposite sex. I don¡¯t inform him of it, though, it could be bothersome to have my sole support distracted. ¡°It is as much a curse at it is a blessing, dear Pist. Think only of how many times you have seen my heart torn asunder these past years.¡± I deliberately use bigger words with Pist here, since he merely needs to rely on his trust for me, and not understand fully what I am saying. His confusion has almost the opposite effect, as to when Fotia causes it, since the effect on his mind will be to go with his gut, which tells him to trust me. ¡°You¡¯re right as always, Al¡± We once again dive into our studies after his predicted answer. I finally decide to live out my last academy days in peace. The review classes end. The exam week ends. The vacation week ends. Each day seems to be more gray and monotone as we draw towards the end. My good life at this academy is about to be over. How much fun I have had here. How much power I have been able to exert over others. How I have been praised for my skill by teachers. All of it is coming to an end. The only rare occurrences that break that monotony is me having to ward off Gia and Fotia every so often, but it proves easy. Fotia could not get Mila to speak up. How could she, after what I had made her believe? Her self-confidence was already fragile, but now it should be completely shattered. Likewise, Gia is turned away by me hiding behind forged feelings of sadness. She saw an opportunity to get together with me, which was a miscalculation on my part. She has been eagerly trying to spend more time with me ever since. Tomorrow is the graduation ceremony. After that, and the graduation ball, we will each have to return to our respective families. Pist has taken the rare measure of an initiative of his own and invited me out to the academy park. We are only lying down in the grass, staring at the clouds above. ¡°Will we ever see each other again?¡± Pist wonders out loud. How peculiar. I am glad I decided to leave him alone till now, lest I believe I would never have seen such reflections from this man. Despite me relishing in working people around me to provide me entertainment, another one of the joys of my life is seeing people I know act unexpectedly, and to figure out the underlying mechanisms, furthering my understanding of them. ¡°I don¡¯t know, dear Pist. Maybe at some conference sometime, depending on what we end up working on.¡± I make sure to make my tone a little melancholic, as to feed into the atmosphere. ¡°It has been fun for me these three years. I mean, I am sorry a lot of bad stuff happened to you, but to me¡­ I have never had a friend like you before, Al!¡± What drivel, but let¡¯s send him off well. He has been a valuable resource these past few years. ¡°Even if a lot of things could have gone better¡­ I am just proud to call you my friend, Pist¡± There, that ought to give him some gratification. ¡°OH AL¡± He yammers, rolls over and hugs me. He has never gotten this physical before, so I am a little taken aback. ¡°Nobody ever helped me, like you did! Nobody ever stood up for me, like you did! Nobody ever wanted to spent that much time with me!¡± Of course, Pist is a second son of only two in his county. That would have warped his perception of how relationships function. Ouch. ¡°You¡¯re squeezing me, Pist¡± The big, lovable oaf is crying, but reluctantly separates from me. ¡°You¡¯re the best friend ever! You deserve a good life from now on, Al!¡± I actually feel a little touched. ¡°You too, friend. You too¡± I say, with a smidgen of genuine emotion. I think this big fool has grown on me over these past few years. I am really happy I decided not to mess with him now. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the dormitory. It is going to be a long day tomorrow¡± I rise up and look over the sky, already slowly taking on the red colors, that signal the day is coming to a close. ¡°Of course, you¡¯re right, Al¡± As always, blind agreement from Pist. The very next day, we are lined up outside the school in our best attires. Blue and red, the colors of nobility shine brightly among the students, providing a stark contrast to the school uniforms, we have been forced to wear these past three years. We have only to perform a short march of a mile to reach the monument, which we will visit together as one unit. Students from the lower classes are gathered around us. I see Gia being emotional, even crying on some poor, much smaller girl¡¯s shoulder, crushing her a little. She is probably that sad because of my departure, her hopes for fated romantic union in these last few days dashed by my willful avoidance. Pist is beside me. He is actually looking somewhat representable in that blue coat of his. If only he had fixed his messy, uneven hair, he would catch the attention of many a girl, but alas, he is incorrigible. In front of me is Fotia, wearing a tasteful, long red dress. She looks over her shoulder and scowls a little at me every so often. How strange, I think I am actually going to miss that too. The teachers direct us, and we start marching towards the monument. People are gathered on the streets to get a look of the hopeful young marching past in bright colors. How dull the lives of mere citizens must be, to be so excited to watch this boring parade. We can already see our destination from the start. The massive statue, depicting the original Arkon in all his glory, with a fancy coat, a long cape, lined with fur, a massive crown on his head and his legendary scepter in his hand. He is currently facing his left from our point of view, but during the march, he gets aligned correctly and we can see him in all his glory. The statue is a supposed 137 feet tall and often called the pride of Pikos. We enter the monument by a gate in the pedestal that the statue stands on. Rarely are people allowed in here. Only the students of the academy and the noble heirs alongside their respective escorts are given permission to be in here, to swear upon the sacred scepter. However, as we line up inside, looking at the so-called ¡°scepter¡± something is off. No matter how I look at it, that is clearly a mace, meant for war and nothing like what the statue is holding. While it retains the basic shape, it is much larger than depicted outside, unless Arkon was a giant, and has six blades protruding out from one end of the massive shaft. Its colors are dull and metallic. I fear our country¡¯s history is not as taught in school. Each student is then in turn sent up to touch the mace and recite a pledge of allegiance. A small light is emitted each time. Shit, is this why no one rebels against this broken system? Is the ruling elite of this world bound by magic to only serve the current system. I hear the pledge again, as another student lays his hand Upon the Mace. ¡°I, Miles Bradford, solemnly swear to serve Arkon, the country, my house and the people, in that order, with all my might.¡± The light once again is emitted. Is nobody finding this fishy? I look around but no one else is perplexed. It will soon be my turn. I debate whether I can cause a ruckus, but when I looked around, I saw guards in every corner. Shit, am I doomed here? Does my free will get taken away. Ah, Pist just went up to it. I quickly form a plan in my mind. I can try to misname myself, so that the pact won¡¯t apply. It is my only hope, I think. After Pist recited the same pledge, a bit of light possibly robbing him of his free will for all eternity. I walk up unsteadily. My steps shaken by the fear of losing my free will. Maybe if I just hover my hand over the mace? As I lower my hand, I accidentally touch it, and a voice flows in my mind. ¡°Houh, what is this? It is here¡­ But only half? What is the meaning of this?¡± I am confused, but no one else seems to react. What is going on? 2: Assets The voice reverberates in my head once more. ¡°Tch, you are useless on your own. Take this, it should guide you to the other half¡± A light emanates from the top of the mace. Suddenly, I feel something. Something far away, as if a line is drawn from my innards towards a faraway destination. ¡°Al! What are you doing!?¡± A low voice with some force behind it is directed towards me. It is the teacher assigned to my class. Don¡¯t tell me, he could see it too? ¡°The recital, do the recital!¡± Oh right, the pledge. I am in a middle of a ceremony after all. I quickly regain my senses and put into effect, the plan I concocted in hope of retaining my free will. I hover my hand slightly over the mace, while reciting. ¡°I, Alepo Skylors, solemnly swear to serve Arkon, the country, my house and the people, in that order, with all my might¡± I only make the mistake slight, as people would surely oppose it, if it was too obvious. My properly pronounced house name is Skylos. No light is emitted and no one seems to protest. I almost heave a sigh of relief, but keep my composure and join the other students that have finished the recital. I don¡¯t pay attention anymore. Instead, I focus on this new feeling, something binding me to something else far away. I wonder what is at the end? The mace mentioned ¡°the other half¡±. A safe hypothesis would be to think the power of the new Arkon has been split into two, one with me, the other with the person on the other side. My heart beats wildly at the idea. If I can find this other person and bring them with me, I can step up to the throne. I can push through the reforms I always dreamt of! I can make this world fair! To hell with birthrights, this will usher in a new era! I feel giddy, excited even! I can barely stop my body from moving, though it is supposed to stand still at this very moment. But I have to think things through. First, I should probably contact the Vizier of Arkon. He is the head of the pseudo-temple this monument is, and I will probably obtain his support, if I inform him and he believes me. It seems only I can locate the other half, but I would need support, depending on how far away it is. I will have to figure that out. Secondly, I have a feeling I should tell Pist. He will surely believe me and aid me no matter how outlandish the claim may sound. After all, ¡°I¡¯m the Arkon, but not really¡± will sound sketchy as hell to anyone, but Pist will surely believe and aid me, no matter what I say. Lastly, I should avoid going home at all costs. My father and oldest brother are both greedy for power, and I have been a thorn in their side since I was young. Unfortunately, they knew me before I realized the value of how others perceive you, so they are fully aware of my discontent towards the unjust distribution of power and desire for meritocracy. That fact, coupled with their general greedy behavior, and they will be sure to prevent me from seeking out this power. And even if I keep it hidden from them, I doubt they would ever let me have free enough reign to pursue this goal under any cover story I could imagine. The ceremony has come to an end. The last one of the year has sworn his pledge, and we are about to march out of here. I, however, need to contact the Vizier. He has been overseeing the ceremony from the back of the room, and we will pass close by him, as we leave. I don¡¯t know if I can easily meet him again, so I decide to make contact now, even if it causes a disruption. I break the neat rank and file we are marching in, to dash over to the Vizier. People, who were around me and the guards are baffled, and many ¡°hey!¡± and muffled chatters break out through the room, as I take action. The Vizier himself is looking upon me with questioning eyes. Though I am not a large man, he is even smaller than I, and I direct my eyes slightly down to meet his. He is equipped with simple robes, and the only thing that betrays his status is the staff he is supporting himself by, as it is heavily inspired by the scepter depicted in the statue outside. I have a feeling people will relatively quickly take action to contain me, so I quickly deliver my line in a voice low enough, that I hope only the Vizier can hear. ¡°The scepter spoke to me.¡± His eyes slightly widen and he makes a slow, wide hand gesture. His wrinkled face mouths a command. ¡°I will speak with the young man in private for a moment, the rest will proceed accordingly.¡± His voice sounds grainy, addled by age. The chatter grows slowly after the command, but between the guards and the teachers, order is quickly restored and the graduates continue moving outside without me. ¡°Follow me.¡± The old man says solemnly, turns around and starts walking in a slow tempo. I follow his command. He guides me through a side door in the main room with the mace, through a hallway to a rather modest door close to one of the ends, which he opens and holds for me. I notice a pair of armed guards have followed us the entire way. I accept his invitation and step in. The room is pretty small, less than 200 square feet. Each wall is covered by bookcases, filled to the brim with books, which is surprising, considering how expensive they are. They also make the room feel even more intimate. In the middle is a desk, with a large, padded chair behind it, but still simple in design, and two bare, simple chairs in front of the desk. There¡¯s a few oil lamps around, but the sun is still high and the sole window in the back provides ample light. The Vizier walks around me from behind, slowly towards the chair behind the desk and lowers himself with great care, before speaking up. ¡°Take a seat¡± He says. And when I do so, he asks me ¡°What did the Scepter tell you?¡± His eyes show a skeptical look, like he isn¡¯t certain that this is a possibility. I briefly consider my words. If I tell the words as they were spoken with me, they seem to be somewhat up to interpretation. I don¡¯t want that; I want his full support. On the other hand, if I embellish it too much, his skepticism will likely deem it false. In the end, I choose to go with my own interpretation. ¡°The scepter told me I was half of Arkon. It was confused as to why this happened, how I could be only half. It then instilled in me¡­ A new sense. I can feel where the other half is. We need to find whoever it may be!¡± He nods slowly along as I speak, but in the end, as soon as I stop talking, he immediately says ¡°Get out¡± curtly. That¡¯s strange, he is not even giving it a chance? ¡°Why don¡¯t you believe me?¡± I ask ¡°Do you not think we of the monument already know how Archon will reveal himself. When the new Arkon¡¯s hand is laid upon the scepter, it will transform into its true form, and the new Arkon will lift it, which no one else could do.¡± ¡°I know the true form! I saw it! It¡¯s a mace!¡± I rise up of my chair and plant my hands on the desk with that line. The Vizier is taken aback, but whether it is due to my statement or my slightly aggressive action, I do not know. ¡°So, you¡¯re a con artist who has read a bit of history. Out of my sight!¡± He is vehemently opposed to me. Why? Does he have that much blind faith that Arkon will appear exactly as was described to him? But I know the scepter itself acknowledged me. Shit! ¡°You don¡¯t understand, old man! I am telling the truth!¡± I inadvertently get a little more aggressive due to the frustration, slamming his desk. ¡°Guards!¡± The Vizier yells, to which a man immediately opens the door. ¡°Escort this young trickster off the premises!¡± The Vizier¡¯s voice is filled with spite. Shit! I try to play to his desires, though I don¡¯t know anything about him yet. ¡°This is your chance to be the Vizier, who saw the Arkon return! This is your chance to be recorded in history, and you don¡¯t gamble on it at all!?¡± But it falls on death ears. He merely lowers his eyes as my arm is seized and I am forcefully pulled away, escorted through the hallways, back to the main entrance, and given a slight throw outside, before the large door is closed behind me with a slam. Shit! In front of me stands the entire year of the academy, who have seen my recent disgraceful exit. Many derisive tones spring up in the whispers. The one to come and admonish me personally is not a teacher, but rather Fotia. ¡°What are you doing!? What did you think!? Did you try to cheat them too? To take them for a ride? When will you ever learn, you ingrate!?¡± She is berating me as usual. But I don¡¯t mind. She is not important any longer, as the time in the academy will come to an end. ¡°Now join up and try to be decent until the ball is finished!¡± She tries to command me, but I have other ideas. ¡°Pist!¡± I call, and the big man immediately steps forward. ¡°I need you to trust me right now. We have something important to do¡± He merely nods at my words. How great it is to have him as a comrade. ¡°AL! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?¡± Fotia is once again performing her party trick of attempting to match her face¡¯s skin color to her red hair. ¡°THE GRADUATION BALL IS THE LAST EVENT OF YOUR SCHOOL LIFE! YOU WILL ATTEND!¡± ¡°We will not¡± I answer calmly, as I know that will only serve to make her more furious. ¡°As I said, we have something important to do.¡± ¡°PIST!¡± She changes target ¡°Are you really going to waste this once-in-a-lifetime event on that scummy bastard!?¡± But Pist, ever faithful, just nods and says ¡°He said it¡¯s more important, so it¡¯s more important¡±. Careful Pist, I might just kiss you if you continue to be this perfect.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I, I, Uh! MISTER MATHAS! Are you just going to let this pass!?¡± She now directs her complaint towards the teacher responsible for our class, but if I know him well, he won¡¯t intervene. His modus operandi has always been to merely perform his job, and let students choose to follow or dissent on their own accord. ¡°No matter, let us proceed to the Grand Hall.¡± Mister Mathas coolly dismisses the issue entirely. The classes are dutifully escorted away from the monument. Fotia¡¯s eyes dart between Pist and I, and the leaving students, before following the latter with a groan. Alone remains Pist and I. ¡°Okay, first, let¡¯s head to the dormitory. We need to evacuate with everything we own of value and reconvene outside as fast possible.¡± I naturally issue my orders to Pist, but he seems a little unsure. ¡°What happened, Al? Why are we doing this?¡± Right, I should fill him. I start walking towards the dormitory as we talk. ¡°When I touched that scepter, you noticed me acting weird, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, Al.¡± ¡°That was because the scepter talked to me. It informed me I was the new Arkon, well half of it anyway.¡± I can see Pist turning his head as I say it and stare at me out of the corner of my eye, but I pay it no attention. ¡°The¡­ The Arkon??¡± Pists mouth moves without making noise a little prior to his exclamation. ¡°Yes, but something went wrong. What makes the Arkon the Arkon has been split in two and I only have half. The scepter did something, and now I feel where that other half is. Though, I don¡¯t know how far, yet¡± I only take steady steps, but Pist¡¯s has become uneven, he falls behind before having to run a little to catch up. ¡°That means both of you get to rule, huh? What¡¯s going to happen if you can¡¯t decide what to do.¡± Pist raises a valid point, but I have already decided. I shall get to know this person and work my charm on them, getting them to see everything in the same light as I do, or blindly trust in me, depending on how smart they seem. I can¡¯t very well tell Pist that, though. ¡°We will merely have to discuss each issue together; it shan¡¯t be any real trouble.¡± Pist smiles and nods. His belief in me has already painted the future he sees rose-colored. I even have a role in mind for Pist. ¡°Pist, when I become Arkon, I want you to be my personal bodyguard!¡± I state loudly, while turning my head to him for once and smiling. ¡°Oh, Al, that would be great! I don¡¯t have to be pushed around by that brother of mine.¡± And so, while missing the largest event of academy life, we both march with a smile on our lips. When we reach the dormitory, we split up. I inform Pist to go to his room and grab anything that could be worth some money, while I do the same. The dormitory is completely abandoned. The dormitories are split up by year, and according to schedule, tomorrow should be the day everyone leaves for good, followed by a day of cleaning by the staff. The staff itself is absent until then, so we have free reign. I briefly consider I don¡¯t know how many resources we need, thinking about stealing from my classmates, but if any of these crimes should be reported and I would be chased down, it will only serve as setting my future self up for a fall. I empty my school bag, and start to fill it again. A few pieces of clothes, as noble clothes can go for a pretty dime, a few noble metal accessories and a sword engraved with the crest of my house, that of a large hound. Lastly, I pack my pencil case, protractor, compass and a notebook. Unfortunately, we have already turned in the textbooks. They would have been rather expensive. I then leave my room, and head outside to wait for Pist. He is not here yet, but I don¡¯t waste time. The dormitory should be 150 feet alongside the longest end, which I proceed to use. I stand at one end and use my protractor, lining it up with the dormitory itself. 103¡ã I then walk downwards to the other end and use it again, my target being the direction of the feeling tugging on me. 77¡ã Shit, such results are useless. I need a bigger base to figure out the distance. The length of the academy grounds should be around one and a half miles in length, so I try again. 103¡ã and 77¡ã¡­ Shit, it must be really far away. ¡°Al, what are you doing?¡± Pist has come out. He is carrying two full sacks and his backpack, filled to the brim. I am not even going to ask. ¡°I tried measuring the distance to my target using trigonometry, but it is too far away.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the fancy math only you were doing, right?¡± Trigonometry is not considered necessary in our math courses, that more revolve around taxes, trade and population, but the few students who seemed to be bored were given more to work on, and I was among those. My measurements cannot give me an answer, as it sums up to 180¡ã. The side of the triangle I am making with the academy grounds is too small, it could be more than a thousand miles away. Shit, can I even get enough supplies for such a journey? No matter, if we run out midway, I will have Pist work for it. The country of Pikos is always swarming with monsters in the countryside, and the mercenary guilds are always looking for able-bodied men and women to subdue them. He is sturdy and talented with the sword, so if I direct him towards the easier targets, we should make enough to at least keep going without risking his life. ¡°Is that a problem?¡± Pist asks me after I went into contemplative silence. ¡°It is not. We still have what direction we need to go. Our first destination should probably be Anatynoro¡± Pist scratches his head a little. ¡°Where¡¯s that again?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the city closest to the border with Nothea¡± Nothea is a neighboring country. I do honestly not know much about them, since information rarely passes over the border, but they are rumored to be a country of strong faith, pledging their lives to some figment of their collective imagination, the people of their country often described as deranged fanatics. ¡°So far away, huh?¡± Pist is correct. They say the road to Anatynoro is a thousand miles in length, though I am not sure. Maps do simply not exist on that scale. ¡°Fear not, Pist. We now embark on a journey to forge a new, better life for the both of us. It might be hard at times, but listen to me and we shall make it through without risking much.¡± My little impromptu speech clearly rouses Pist, as he starts moving on the spot. ¡°First stop, the shop of curiosities!¡± I lead Pist to the glorified pawn shop, located a little bit from the central plaza in the capital. I stumbled upon it during a date with one of my many conquests. It contained all manner of trinkets, many of them clearly showing previous noble ownership, judging by the crests present, so I hope to make a pretty sum there. I guide Pist through the streets, before we break off the main road, taking a slightly narrower one, mostly leading to a residential area. And here we find it. The signboard depicts a horseshoe, with the round part turned up, contrary to public convention that claims depicting a horseshoe this way signifies bad luck, whilst the letters spell ¡°Edgar¡¯s Curios and Memorabilia¡± We enter the store, sounding a small bell attached to the door, before we can get a proper look. Counters and shelves filled with all manner of random stuff. Jewelry like rings, necklaces and brooches. Silver hairbrushes, ebony combs. Small figurines, clothes both with vibrant and faded colors, daggers, swords and axes. One could probably spend an hour just naming all the various things on display. I walk up to the counter where there is no one. Strange, they should have heard the bell, right? I remember the last time I was here, an old lady manned the counter. A little time passes while Pist and I wait in silence. I clear my throat and oust a somewhat loud ¡°Excuse me?¡± Towards the rooms back of the counter, but silence sets in again. I was about to shout for real, but then a door leading to a room in the back creaks, and forth steps a young man. He is sloppily dressed and his hair is a mess. Acne and small, single hairs dot his face and serves to provide a rather distasteful picture of the young man. ¡°Can I help you?¡± He asks us without assuming any special position. He simply stands, arms sloppily hanging down, neck bent over. ¡°It is my understanding you purchase various goods of interest here, correct?¡± ¡°Ah, that¡¯s right¡± he says unenthusiastically, barely moving. ¡°I would like to liquidate the assets I have brought with me here today¡± I say, and empty my backpack for the wares I judged to be of value. He looks over them, still barely moving a muscle, only his eyes travelling over the objects I produced from my backpack. After a little while he says ¡°7 gold 40 silver¡±. This is a bit low, according to my own personal estimates. I might not have a good idea of what all of this is worth, since most of it was provided directly by my house, but it seems low, since this amount would only seem equivalent to exchanging it for a single set of the used clothes on offer here. ¡°My good man, are you trying to insult me, clearly this is worth at least 15 gold?¡± I try to maneuver the price upwards but. ¡°7 gold 40 silver¡± he says again, not giving me anything to work off of, standing still. ¡°Well, then I will have to take my business elsewhere.¡± I try to deny him any profit he may gain from this but. ¡°Okay, bye!¡± He is completely fine with it! I don¡¯t know anywhere else I could turn this assortment of goods into cash. Shit. I surrender. ¡°Fine, give me the damn 7 gold and 40 silver¡± He cracks a small smile, as he turns to open up a safe behind him. 7 gold coins and 4 much larger silver coins are produced, which I promptly put into my backpack. ¡°Next, go on, Pist¡± Pist proceeds to empty his sacks and backpack. Multiple weapons and tons of clothes are put forth, though few of them seem to have any value. ¡°Wait, Pist, hold on to this, we might need it.¡± I sold my weapons because they were noble weapons. Filled with decorations and poorly balanced, their purpose not being combat, but ornamental in nature. One of the weapons Pist put forth, on the other hand, seems to be a well-tempered sword. ¡°Oh, okay, Al¡± he says as he accepts his own sword back from my hands. The clerk once again peruses the goods laid upon the counter. This time takes a while longer, before he utters ¡°4 gold 80 silver¡±. We just accept, knowing the defeat from the last attempt to haggle. I can¡¯t wait to get out of here, and away from this unsettling, barely moving man. Now, with our load lightened and a fair sum of money to our name, we need to secure transport. In other words, our next destination is the merchant¡¯s guild. They arrange caravans, moving goods around the country. If one was to travel, they usually either have their own security detail, or arrange themselves to sponge off that of merchants. While the cities rarely see any monsters, the roads between cities can often be infested by them. And so I move towards our destination with a somewhat swift gait. Pist follows me without even questioning why we are heading in a particular direction. I do not know where the merchant guild branch in the capital is, but asking a few passersby, we quickly manage to get our route sorted. It appears to be situated just behind the monument to Arkon, which is in the central plaza. When we enter, there¡¯s a fair few lines, of which we line up in the shortest one. They move slowly, and we can hear a manner of talks taking place at the front. Stuff like, securing permits to sell, asking about shipments will be coming in when, price checks on certain goods, whether permission is needed to smelt down old armor, wanting to sell a quota for fishing, stuff like that. I had hoped we could listen in on another requiring passage, so that we may use their conversation as a reference, but unluckily, no such conversation takes place. When it is our turn, I step up and speak ¡°Excuse me, we require passage to Anatynoro. When does it leave and how much is it to join?¡± ¡°Do you require seating or will you merely follow?¡± The receptionist asks. I don¡¯t know how much it takes to march in pace with a caravan, but I do know that Pist is a prime specimen, and that my own physical prowess is lacking. ¡°One of each, please¡± She looks slightly confused at the answer and turns to look at Pist. When he notices her stare, he simply nods. He probably thinks I know everything and have it all figured out. ¡°That¡¯ll be 4 gold for the seat, 50 silver for permission to follow. The caravan is scheduled for its weekly trip in two days. You will meet at the caravan spot.¡± That¡¯s rather pricy. I think about downgrading myself to follow too, but I don¡¯t know if Pist can carry me for the duration of the trip. As I ruffle through my backpack, I can¡¯t help but ask. ¡°Caravan spot? What is that?¡± A sigh is heard from the woman behind the counter. ¡°The caravans heading east, do so after meeting up and packing outside of town. If you exit the commoner¡¯s gate to the east, you will see it straight away. It is right next to the stables. Remember, they leave by dawn the day after tomorrow¡±. ¡°Thank you very much.¡± I pay the 4 gold and 50 silver, and in return, I receive two slips of leather, each denoting our permission to be with the caravan, alongside intricate patterns embedded into them. I wonder how they are made? Burning? Scraping? No matter, our next issue should be finding a place to stay. 3: Second Companion Via few random citizens, we get recommended an inn. I am not risking staying at the dormitory, as an escort from my house should show up tomorrow to retrieve me. Due to our rather limited funds, I chose the cheapest inn we could find. It is only 50 copper for a night, 1 silver for staying with breakfast, 2 silver for a full course meal. So, for only 6 silver, we get to stay here and have breakfast the day of our departure. The current day is at an end though, and I can¡¯t help but feel some remorse regarding the decision of going with the cheapest inn I could find. The rooms are incredibly small. So much so, that there is basically only a bed there. It is so cramped that the bedframe covers more than half of the doorway, and one has to step over it to get into the room proper. How do they even clean it? What if they don¡¯t? I bend down and smell the sheets. I recoil at the pungent odor that enters my nostrils¡­ Gross. Pist should have received the room next to me, but he immediately just went inside and to sleep. How could he do so? Does he not have a sense of smell? As much as I dislike it, moving around the whole city today has left me rather tired and I do require the rest. I find myself inspecting the bedding, so lay upon the least dirty, while using my backpack as a pillow. I don¡¯t dare drape anything over me, nor lay my head down on the bed itself, as everyone knows the filthy masses are prone to being host to a variety of parasites. I feel it takes hours, laying on the hard, uncomfortable, smelly bedding, but eventually, I do fall asleep. I am awoken by knocks on my door. I try to ignore them, but they just don¡¯t stop. They¡¯ve been going for a few minutes, when I finally rise from my slumber. Shit, my head ended down on the bedding anyway, I hope I don¡¯t have lice now. I wonder who it is that is knocking. It couldn¡¯t be Pist, I don¡¯t think he would disturb me like this. He would probably just get up and obediently kill time until I got up on my own. Maybe it¡¯s the proprietor of this establishment, waking us up for our paid for breakfast? I force myself up, stand up with my knees still on the bed and push the door oprn, and upon witnessing who¡¯s behind it, I almost close it once again, but I manage to control myself. My guest is Gia. The woman, who is taller thank me and equipped with hefty assets, looks down upon me as I open the door. Shit, this again. ¡°AL!¡± Is what I hear as I am smothered into her ample bosom by her powerful arms. I am usually more prepared to enjoy this gesture of hers, but here it takes me by surprise and I feel a legitimate discomfort at being taken by surprise. Still a pleasantly soft sensation, though, that flesh of hers. ¡°Al! I heard all about it from Pist! To think fate had taken such a turn for you! Oh, how you will be a great Arkon!¡± her voice is loud and she just blabbered out sensitive information, but I find myself unable to protest, due to being locked in her arms. It feels somewhat emasculating, being overpowered so easily, but I don¡¯t sweat it. My strong suit is in another color. She eventually calms down and I can somewhat separate myself. I would be surprised if an imprint remained on her, considering how long she pressed my head against her. ¡°Little Gia, please, consider the time and place of our meeting.¡± I admonish her lightly, before elaborating in a softer, lower tone, all the while drawing closer to her ¡°What if someone heard you, and thought they could seize me to influence the future of the nation?¡±. She freezes and looks uncomfortable, but I simply reach up to the top of her head and stroke it. ¡°It is fine, it was an honest mistake. Those are what we learn from and grow as people¡±. Treating Gia properly as a young junior is one of her weak points and she obediently nods and a wide smile starts forming on her lips. ¡°Now, let¡¯s talk, but in private¡± I drag her into the way too small room, where she has to step over the bedframe as I did yesterday. Once inside, she obediently sits down on the bed and flushes red. The red shade I not brought upon her for the same reasons that make Fotia red, but rather one of embarrassment. Whether it is the fact she had no courtesy in handling the sensitive information, or if it because I pulled her into a cramped room, I don¡¯t rightly know. Maybe a mix of both. I start the conversation, as she appears in no shape to do so. ¡°So, how did you find us, and why did you come?¡± I lean in a little close to her as to tease her, causing her to avert her face and reply with barely audible voice. ¡°I heard it from those who returned from the ball yesterday. I was asking about you and they¡­ They said you caused a fuss at the monument¡­ And that you left the group.¡± Why is she talking like that? Between the lines sometimes a very deep breath is taken. ¡°But how did you find us here?¡± I think she is melting down, judging by how much she starts shaking, as I lay a hand upon her shoulder. Really, is her being pulled into this tiny room making her imagination run amok? ¡°I¡­ Asked any¡­ If they¡¯d seen you¡­ And some¡­ Had seen you walk¡­ Into the merchant¡¯s guild¡­ So I thought¡­ You¡¯d be leaving¡­ And wouldn¡¯t come back¡­¡± Hoh, from my impression, she has so far been severely addled when it came to rational thought, often coming and requesting tutoring from me, in which she severely proves her lack of ability, but she seems capable enough in light of these actions. ¡°And then¡­ I asked¡­ strangers¡­ with your description¡­ And somebody¡­ Recognized it¡­ Said he pointed to this inn¡­¡± Her breaths have increased rather much in pace. I better terminate this little talk before she breaks down or jumps me. Additionally, some luck was required, asking one of the strangers, who directed us to this place. ¡°Thank you for sharing, little Gia. But know you know what we must do, and you must return¡± ¡°No!¡± And exclamation, followed by her turning and grabbing my arm closest to her. Ouch. You¡¯re hurting me, Gia, but I don¡¯t show it. I have to maintain a superior attitude to this girl to have her like me. ¡°You can¡¯t! It¡¯ll be dangerous! At least let me help!¡± Contrary to her earlier sentences, she is rapid-firing these line with startling precision. A thought appears in my head. Did I make a mistake? Instead of seeing this girl as a potential Fotia, should I have seen her as a potential Pist? To track me down and offer her help in a situation like this. But she isn¡¯t Pist. The largest difference is likely that her unwavering belief in me and willingness to help me, doesn¡¯t come out of some deep-rooted trust, as it does with Pist, but rather with a false promise of romantic, or even sexual gratification. To be honest, we could use more money, but if I take her up on the offer and have her liquidate her assets, I think there¡¯s a possibility it will come back to haunt me¡­ No matter. I suddenly remember the end goal of our journey. If I am Arkon, can I not deal with her, in any way I please? While I won¡¯t be heartless enough to punish her for providing me aid, I will be able to renege on unspoken promises without fear of repercussion. It is decided. ¡°Listen well, little Gia. I have the outmost faith in you, but you must act quickly. Should one more student disappear, this time from the still active student body, alarms will be raised. You are to meet us again here later today, with the most valuable possessions you have, which you can also bear to sell. Our most limiting factor is currently money and I would be honored to have you help me.¡± She rises up, full of panic. ¡°Of course! I will go right now!¡± Before I can reach out to calm her down, to tell her to avoid suspicion, she has flow out of the room with incredible speed. It was my mistake, not calming her down first, let¡¯s hope she doesn¡¯t cause too much of a ruckus. In the meantime, I¡¯ve got to talk with Pist. While the outcome this time appears to have turned out positive, I can¡¯t have him divulge information like this at his own discretion. I open the room next to mine, where he should have been sleeping, but it is empty. He must be enjoying breakfast. I make my way down the stairs and see him shoveling some bizarre mass from a bowl into his mouth. We didn¡¯t eat dinner yesterday, as it would have cost us at least 4 silver to do so, so he must have been hungry. Now that I am reminded, I feel the hunger welling up in me too. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re up. Hang tight for a second and ill fetch you some gruel¡± the innkeeper we paid for our stay yells over the counter, as I come down the stairs. I sit down opposite Pist and wait for him to catch that I am here. Oh, right, there we go. ¡°Good morning Al!¡± He spoke still having food in his mouth. To think this person attended the same etiquette class I did.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Good morning, Pist¡± I weigh my options a little about how I was to go about this. ¡°Gia woke me up¡± I start. ¡°Right, I just talked to her! She totally thinks you are right too, Al! She¡¯s a good girl.¡± Are you seriously judging someone based on whether they believe me or not? ¡°Al, when I told you that, was there anyone else around to hear?¡± I ask him, and I can see the gears turning in his head, after moving his pupils to the corner of his eyes. ¡°No, Al, we were already walking alone away from the rest of the class¡± Good, at least his memory isn¡¯t faulty. ¡°Then, why do you suppose I didn¡¯t attempt to tell the rest of the class.¡± The same motion with his eyes as before, but more time passes, before he speak up again. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Al¡± ¡°Information is important to conceal. The more you tell people, the easier they can predict your actions.¡± I lean a little closer and invite Pist to do the same, then continue in a lower voice. ¡°Knowing I might be the Arkon, will cause many to not only think of me as an enemy, but if they have some sort of knowledge, of where the other half is, they may very seek to intercept or stop me.¡± Pist doesn¡¯t seem to really understand, but says ¡°You are right as always, Al, sorry¡± I pull back and lean into the chair. ¡°As long as you understand. It might have turned out to be a boon this time, though. Gia is going to join us.¡± A slight smile spreads across his face. Hmm, he has not given much indication of it earlier, but has Pist come like Gia? That could be trouble, with how much she is fawning over me. Pist is about to speak yet again, but I hold up a hand to stop him. The inn-keeper has returned with the promised gruel, and he should not be allowed to overhear any sensitive details, Pist may release now. ¡°Here you are!¡± The inn-keeper says proudly as he slams the wooden bowl down on the table. I had expected something like delicious Sago gruel that has been fed to me, whenever I have fallen ill, but the contents here are obviously far less appetizing. Instead of having a clear, white color, only tainted by the mix of cinnamon and sugar poured over, what is staring at me is gray, watery mess. I carefully lower the spoon and transport some into my mouth. It is bland, tasteless and hard to swallow. Eugh, if this is the food standard we will have to live with going forward, I don¡¯t know if I can make it. After breakfast, Pist and I kill time with some idle chatter, purposefully absent of any details regarding or plans or upcoming journey, when Gia returns. Like Pist, she too has filled two sacks and her backpack. I sigh, fearing the consequences. ¡°Did anyone see you leave academy grounds like this?¡± I ask her. ¡°Ehmm, I don¡¯t know¡± Right, I should have calmed her down first previously, so that I could have instructed her to take care not to be too inconspicuous. No matter, what¡¯s done is done. ¡°Right, we will go and turn these things into gold and turn some of that gold into a spot on the caravan, but after that, you have to show your face at the academy again. If the last time people saw you was like that, they will surely come to the conclusion you ran away. Showing your face again may only slow that conclusion down a little, but it may be important. Then, after dinner, you will come here and we will arrange a room for you, and we will depart in the morning. Take great care not to be seen when you leave this time, and make your room look as representable as possible.¡± She nods at my instruction and we execute on them. Girls seem to have more clothes and accessories, that are easy to sell, so when we visit the pawn shop, it comes out to an astonishing total of 15 gold flat. I have much more confidence in us making it without problems now. I explain the tickets we each have, among our explanatory chatter on the way to the merchant¡¯s guild, and Gia makes a surprising suggestion. ¡°Make mine a walking ticket too¡± I am a little baffled. I, a man, should be sitting on the journey while making a woman walk? I would be hounded by smears of my lack of courtesy, if anyone ever found out, but Gia insists. ¡°It will let you have more money, right? I am only really good at physical activies, so it is the least I can do¡± The girls do not have classes in swordsmanship and athletics, as the men do, but that doesn¡¯t mean they have no physical education. On the first year, which Gia has completed, the girls are mandated for horseback-riding and gymnastics. Though I have never observed a gymnastics class, and don¡¯t right now what it entails, other than keeping the body in shape, Gia seems confident. ¡°Very well, but a word of this to anyone, and I will live through quite the shame¡±. In the end, I cannot refute the boon an extra 3 gold and 50 silver would be. After securing the ticket, we see Gia off, while Pist and I go shopping for supplies. The caravan ¡°seated¡± ticket includes refreshments for the long journey, but Pist and Gia will have to manage their own supplies. The trip passes through eight cities and they should have the opportunity to restock at each of them, but we have to secure a few days¡¯ worth first. Luckily, the merchant guild informed us of a location to do that. A literal ¡°supply¡± store. Once we enter, we can see all manner of things for travel inside. There is rope, pickaxes, backpacks, burlap sacks, daggers any many more different things available, but I can¡¯t spot any food. ¡°Excuse me, where do you stock your provisions?¡± I ask the man tending to the counter. ¡°Eh, foodstuffs around the back, customers aren¡¯t allowed to handle, guild rules, y¡¯know. Ya pick amounts and variety from this here chart¡± He directs to a blackboard behind him with numbers. It filled with various preserved food types and their prices per pound. Dried fish, fruit and meat, as well something called hardtack is displayed on there. The more expensive options seem to be beans, sausages and apples. The hardtack is by far the cheapest. ¡°What is hardtack?¡± I ask. ¡°Eh, is bread. Hard, dry bread. It¡¯s so tough your gums¡¯ll bleed the first couple of time you eat it, but it can last for weeks, longer if you don¡¯t mind the maggots¡± Eugh, the image of some eating a maggot sandwich entered my mind, but I quickly dismiss it. ¡°Right, we¡¯ll have dried fish and fruit, enough to sustain a man for eight days¡± and so the transaction transpires. He fills a burlap sacks with some amount of each. We also purchase two canteens and two bedrolls, all-in-all totaling us 22 silver. Still, far cheaper than getting the seated ticket for my fellow travelers. We end up not having much to do but kill time, which we pass idly chatting at the inn, until Gia joins us. She is looking rather excited about this whole thing, which irks me. Pist is behaving as usual too. We are all of noble stock, not having had to care for ourselves out entire lives, now setting out on a journey that will bring us at least to the other end of the country. How can they be so callous? We pay 1 silver for Gia¡¯s room with breakfast, before going to sleep. Sleep comes much easier today, but I still have to roll around a little aimlessly. The next day, I am once again woken by knocks on my door. Both Pist and Gia stand outside, already ready with their school backpacks, with bedrolls on top, ready to go. Did they forget we eat breakfast first? ¡°Why are you so excited for this?¡± I am in a bad, so during breakfast I crack a line with a bit of sneer to it. ¡°Ehm, well, it¡¯s kind of exciting, isn¡¯t it? I have never been anywhere without escorts before. It¡¯s a bit like setting out on an adventure, like in a fairy tale!¡± Gia¡¯s optimism around the upcoming journey is oozing off her, and I find it rather annoying. I am not going on this journey because I want to, but because I need to, and I would honestly prefer if she had the same mindset. After breakfast, we go to the east gate, where we locate the caravan. It is easy to spot as people are loading carts and tending to horses, feeding them, fastening them to the carts and a bit of brushing is going on. ¡°We have secured passage with this caravan via the merchant¡¯s guild, who do we see about that?¡± I ask a random man, loading the cart. ¡°Ah, just show them to me and I¡¯ll carry it on¡± he says. Upon flashing the leather strips, he continues ¡°I take it the lady¡¯ll be the one riding in the cart¡± Oh no. I have but a split second to brace myself for the incoming embarrassment. ¡°Oh, no, that¡¯s for Al here¡± Gia answers while pointing at me, to which the man makes a grimace like he heard something unpleasant¡­ I will work out more in the future. ¡°Very well. We will be ready within half an hour. We will reserve a spot for¡­ the young man¡± What¡¯s that pause supposed to mean? Half an hour later, our journey begins. I am sitting on some random crate, and the pace is quite slow. I can feel my ass is going to get pummeled sore by the vibrations on the road, as I lack the padding usually present in our noble carriages. A few hours in I am already hurting and bored. I look to Gia and Pist every once in a while, but they appear to chat with each other with smiles on their faces. It bothers me, that they seem to have fun while I most certainly isn¡¯t, so I try my best to willfully ignore it, and entertain myself by imagining my future as Arkon. I know I want to boot off the incompetent lords and install capable ones instead, but how will I make sure the better man gets the job? I could devise some kind of written exam, but that will have dire consequences if the system persists past my lifetime. Then, normal, mortal men will once again be in charge of the system, and they could use these tests to seek out allies, that will enrich them or their enterprises. No, a committee, chosen by me, then filling their own ranks after someone passes away, with rules restricting them from profiting from any nobility and being supported directly by national tax would surely be a much better idea. Their entire job could be conducting interviews and voting to select the best candidate for each position¡­ But does that not run into the same problem? Could they not elect lords, that will help them gain power? I have seen human greed too often in this world to believe they won¡¯t take advantage of it. Such speculations fill my head, only disturbed by the pain in my buttocks, before we finally come to a stop. The sun is setting, and it appears the people are using the last light to make camp. I wonder what we will eat? To my surprise, it is not preserved food of any sort. Rather, they appear to have fresh vegetables and milk procured from a local village. It peaked my curiosity, so I asked about it. ¡°Eh, well, that¡¯s just standard when travelling, you know. Especially along known routes, there will be arrangements for villages, churches, farms or whatever to sell you what you need to eat.¡± I look at the stew that while basic, appears infinitely more appetizing than dried fish and fruit. ¡°What about preserved food? Is that never necessary?¡± I ask. ¡°Well, yes, but that¡¯s for crossing the sea or mountain ranges. Places, where you can¡¯t readily acquire food from the locals.¡± I feel stupid and slightly guilty now. I can¡¯t see Gia and Pist, as they are not allowed to camp with us, but if I had investigated and figure out that things worked this way, instead of just assuming preserved goods were for travel, they would eat a lot better. Well, mistakes are for learning and so I have done. Although it isn¡¯t myself that suffered from my own mistakes. ¡°How long will this journey take?¡± I suddenly remember I never got that sorted. ¡°Some 20-30 days, depending on whether we run into trouble or not. Don¡¯t you worry, we will get you to Anatynoro in one piece¡± He laughs. Well, here¡¯s hoping.