First day

 “Don’t worry too much about it, Hugo. You don’t have to become a knight just because the grant has the class as mandatory. You can fail your training sessions, it won’t have any effect on your academics so long as you still attend.” Orin reassured, patting him on the back as they made their way towards the Avelin academy.

Hugo was already fuming as was, and the merchant’s words had him nearly popping a bloodvessel.

“Do you understand what it means to ‘fail’ at training? It means getting beaten black and blue every day!” If he wasn’t riding Clover and wholly unconfident in his horsemanship, Hugo would’ve shaken Orin by the collar in frustration.

The man shrugged without a care. “Just stay on the defensive and don’t let your foe get in close—you can do that much can’t you?”

“Why do you say that as though it’s such a simple thing? Any squire my age would’ve been training for years. How’s a person who’s never held a weapon in their entire life meant to defend against them?!”

Orin raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never trained?” There was great confusion in his eyes, Hugo could only groan as he clutched his head.

“I have, but that’s not the point! What if I hadn’t? You should’ve mentioned the ‘Knight’ part beforehand!” Much to Hugo’s frustration, the merchant still didn’t seem concerned in the slightest.

“You worry too much, just take a leap and figure it out as you go. It’s not like knowing there’s martial training involved would’ve changed the fact that it’s mandatory.”

Maybe the man was right, maybe he was just being neurotic and there wasn’t anything to be concerned over. Orin was a worldly man and knew better than most after all.

Though of course, such logic meant very little when anxiety had taken full command of the ship.

“The frontier has every teenage boy training as a militia. If you’re half of what I’ve seen from some of them you’ll do just fine.” Hugo’s words were waved away, the man not even bothering to look his way.

He had many more complaints and concerns to make known, notably the fact that he wasn’t from the frontier, nor was he a militia. Unfortunately, Hugo wouldn’t have the chance to continue, as he now stood before the gates to his place of residence for the foreseeable future.

He’s seen it many times in the distance as the academy was located just a few kilometers from the edges of Thorn. But to witness it from a close was certainly a different experience, one that had his palms sweating in spite of the cold weather.

The entrance alone was a marvel of architecture, marble columns with intricate carvings standing nearly ten meters high with the statues of a dragon sitting on the two edges of the main gate. Vines covered every inch of it, yet every stem and leaf was symmetrical in such a perfect way that it only could’ve been the work of a master gardener.

For a boy who is from a village that couldn’t even afford to hire someone to design a silo, it was an imposing sight indeed.

Hugo could only gulp.

“Whelp, everything you need to know should be written on that parchment. I’ll call you in to work in a few weeks once you’ve settled in.” Orin rode away before Hugo could say a single word. The nervous boy was left with a face of utter horror, a hand stretched towards the man who never once looked back.

“Shit.” Was all he could say.

With a sigh and another swear for good measure, he hesitantly made his way in.

Just beyond the gate was revealed the academy square—a massive water fountain in the middle of an extravagant garden of flowers surrounded by buildings composed mostly of pale marble.

He tried his best to ignore the sight, instead focusing on the pierce of parchment in his hands.

Tried.

It was impossible to not gawk at the statue of an angel at the top of the fountain, as its halo and wings were clearly made of solid gold and silver. He spent a good ten minutes simply staring at the God forsaken thing, an object of such opulence that it was honestly a little disgusting.

After just a few moments of staring, for some inexplicable reason, Hugo found himself running across the academy halls. The sheer extravagance of the surrounding scenery seemed to apply an invisible force to his legs, driving him away towards a place where he wouldn’t feel so out of place.

Perhaps he expected his dorm room to be just a little more homely, as it was to be his place of residence for the coming year. The academy housed nearly three thousand students after all, what are the chances that every dorm room is as posh as the rest of the campus?

Unfortunately, that chance appeared to be quite high.

He opened the door and…

There was an ivory harp in his room.

Sorry, there was an ivory, self playing harp in his room, one that activated by itself the moment he entered.

He took a few unsteady steps, let out a sigh of utter exhaustion and promptly collapsed onto his bed.

The sheets smelled of lavender.

He turned onto his back in an attempt to escape the luxurious scent, and only then did he realize that the ceiling had a masterful depiction of the night sky painted upon it.

Just…why? Why spend so much money for something so pointless? Why not just go outside?

Hugo doubted he’d ever understand.

He slowly stood up in an overly stiff manner, having decided that he would make his way to class.

He wasn’t required to attend until the next day, but he needed someplace where he wouldn’t feel like a fish attempting to climb a tree. As unlikely as it was, he was holding out hope that the lecture halls would at the very least resemble a normal room.

Hugo walked quickly, attempting to ignore the massive windows decorated by stained glass, each one likely worth more than his parent’s cabin.

A colorful garden could be seen just beyond, its beauty shining through in spite of the stained windows.

Hugo quickened his pace when he realised one couldn’t actually take a walk through them as the garden lacked a proper entrance or pathway. It was purely ornamental—planted and maintained simply for the sake of brightening up the hallways a tad.

One that already had stained windows mind you.

Through bafflement and mental exhaustion, he eventually reached his destination, and with bated breath opened the door to his class of stewardship…

Well, surprisingly enough, the lecture hall was far more practical than anything else he’s seen of the academy—simply a room full of tables and chairs. Ones that were of high quality, but simply tables and chairs nevertheless.

There was still no comfort to be found however, as fifty pairs of eyes stared at him.

Hugo found himself frozen in place, a second having passed.

Then another passed.

Then another.

…

Maybe he should say something? Perhaps a simple ‘hello’ would suffice?

“Uhh.” That was most certainly not a ‘hello’.

He had to not stand out. How would the son of a noble greet his peers?

Probably something posh and old and pointless, like the old dialect from his parent’s plays.

“G-Greetynges!” Ah, the son of a noble probably wasn’t supposed to squeak like a rabbit.

A few of the students chuckled amongst themselves while others awkwardly waved at him. It was then that he heard a voice from behind.

“Greetings indeed, please take your seat.” Hugo nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned around, a man with greying hair standing there with a book clutched at his side—undoubtedly the teacher.

“Y-Yes sir.” He quietly whispered before beelining straight for the back of the class. He could feel the teacher’s gaze tear into his skull all the while.

The man cleared his throat as he took his place at the front of the class.

“Those who have Lord Lubecq’s transcription turn to page forty six, page fifty seven for those using the church’s version.”

Hugo had neither of such books.

“Please write down the section under ‘Taxation of urban lands’.”

He also lacked anything to write on and something to write with, his pen and journal forgotten in his dorm.

Maybe the instructor won’t notice?

“Please do remember that I will require a showing of your work before you’re allowed out of this class.”

Hugo spent a good five minutes wallowing in his misery, contemplating why he didn’t head to the library first when it was very obviously something he needed to do—who went to class without books?.

He decided that Orin was the one who must bear the blame.

Thankfully, like a blessing bestowed upon him from heaven itself, a piece of paper was placed upon his desk along with a quill. The girl who was sitting in front of him gave him wink along with a grin.

“I’ll help you just this once.” She whispered.

“Why?” Hugo gave himself a mental kick. Just accept the help damn it!

“You’re funny.” She returned to her notes without a word more.

There was a painful sting at the word ‘funny’. Twas not a good label to be handed when one wasn’t attempting to receive it, though he whispered a word of gratitude nevertheless.

There was, however, still the issue of him lacking a book.

Hugo sighed for the upteenth time that day. It was going to be a long few weeks.