The day began as any other would for Theo Calderwood, with gentle morning rays slowly warming his face and blankets. He tried to keep his eyes shut, basking in the quiet serenity that came only before everyone else in the house awoke, until he had no choice but to leave his bed and begin his retreat from the fort of blankets that somehow always formed every time he slept, for fear of overheating. Nothing was worse, in his humble opinion, than ruining a good morning by sweating profusely in bed because of his own sloth.
As Theo lazily wrangled his blankets and pajamas from his body and put on his clothes for the day, he heard his mother, Irene Calderwood (though he would never deign to call her by her name for fear of her retribution), call out to him.
“Theo, come down for breakfast! If you don’t get down here soon, breakfast is going to get cold.”
Though the timbre of Theo’s voice was deep (as deep as one would expect from a boy of 16), it was remarkably soft, for one had to strain to hear him, even in a library. Still, Theo’s mother knew this, and he did not hesitate to respond (though it went unheard as it so often did) and called out to her, “Alright, I’m coming down!”
Scrambling down the smooth stairs, worn down by all of his siblings' feet, Theo arrived in the kitchen to see Irene pulling a steaming pan of cinnamon rolls out of the oven.
“What’s the occasion?”
Rebuking him, Irene said, “Honestly, Theo, with a brain like yours, it’s a wonder you’re so forgetful.”
“It’s not my fault that I have so much stuff crammed into my brain; all the little stuff gets shoved out.”
“The Entrance Exam is a little thing?”
Theo froze. The Entrance Exam was something everyone had to take to enter the system, and though it was unique to each person that measured all sorts of things, from mana proficiency to woodcutting knowledge. It gave the test-taker all sorts of useful knowledge on choosing their path in life and choosing their ideals. More importantly, however, was the information it sent to schools that the system deemed fit for the user. Most of the time, the system recommended trade schools or universities that were nearby and suited a person's class. Sometimes, though, it deemed them too talented to stay close to home and recommended a prestigious school that fit their skillset. But somehow, he had completely forgotten about it until now.
“When is it again?” Theo asked.
“It’s in town and right after lunch, so we should head out right after breakfast. Oh, and we’re going to take the wagon to make sure we get there in time; I don’t want to wait in line for hours on end.”
“Alright, sounds good. But first, let me try some of these cinnamon rolls.” Theo’s mother’s cinnamon rolls were truly a work of art. Each one was baked to a perfect golden brown and covered in a perfect white icing that looked sculpted. If the Calderwood family didn’t live in the middle of the forest, then Irene could have made quite a fortune selling them. This was one of the main reasons Theo woke up early. Not only was it a quiet start to the day, but he got to choose the best piece of his mother’s baking before his little siblings got their grubby hands on them. But alas, all good things must come to an end, as he soon heard a particularly loud flurry of steps and yelling coming from the stairs as his siblings raced down the stairs.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“They must have finally smelled the cinnamon rolls,” Theo thought.
Soon, the table was crowded with lots of small chubby faces, all of whom were vying for what Theo had left of the cinnamon rolls.
“MOM! Theo took the biggest cinnamon roll again,” whined his 10 year old sister, Adalaide.
“Oh, don’t complain, Adalaide, you know that the first one gets to choose which one they want.”
“But he’s ALWAYS the first one up,” she continued to pout.
“Well, he’s going to be leaving for school within the next couple of weeks, so you’ll have your chance then.”
This, it seemed, was enough to convince Adalaide to drop her complaints and eat her cinnamon roll, which was only marginally smaller than Theo’s. Though, of course, the difference seemed like night and day to Adalaide. On the other hand, Alex, a thin boy of 13 with ruddy hair and bright blue eyes, was much more interested in Theo’s plans for the future than his mother’s cinnamon rolls (though he made sure to secure one before he began to interrogate him).
“Where do you want to end up studying Theo?” Alex asked Theo.
“Preferably, I would want to stay here and go to the school in town. It’s nice and quiet compared to all the schools in the bigger cities. I couldn’t imagine being stuck there with all the noise of a bigger city,” shuddered Theo.
“When I take the Exam, I want to go to Cognition Peak.”
“Do you mean that mage school that’s situated in a dungeon?”
“Yeah, I heard from Timmy at school that they make the students fight monsters from the dungeon.”
“Lots of other schools around dungeons do that, plus I’m pretty sure that Timmy has a screw loose. He always tries to catch pidgeons”
“That’s the only thing weird about him, which is good since his Dad died a long time ago. Plus, do other schools have a greater dungeon with a main ideal of learning?”
Theo paused and looked at Alex,” No, probably not, I always thought it had something like puzzles or time, maybe even one of the elements.” Ideals are a cornerstone of everything and everyone in the system. Even animals and dungeons have ideals, with each ideal greatly affecting their physical traits or what one gained when they delved into one. Every man and every woman chooses their main ideal after they choose their class. This is because what one chooses greatly affects one’s future skills. Chefs, for instance, might choose taste or texture to help supplement their job and end up with cooking skills that prefer either taste or texture. Some people, however, chose to focus on more eccentric things. One soldier was said to have chosen board games as his ideal, and was able to literally defeat his enemies on the battlefield by beating them in Chess. He ended up being known as “The Pawnmaster” and was only defeated by an even more eccentric knight, who had chosen Chess specifically as his ideal. Luckily, most knights chose something like strength or one of their weapons. Ideally, (pun intended), the best main ideal describes how one wants to live their life. Because, for an ideal to gain power, it has to be lived out. This is why people who can’t control mana very well don’t choose something magelike like mana as their ideal because it would leave them exponentially weaker than those around them.
“Well,” Alex said,” that seems remarkably dumb of you.”
“Not everyone tries to learn about every dungeon they hear about.” It was at this time, however, that practically everyone had finished eating, and given that Irene and Theo were in a time crunch to get to town to take the exam. Theo was obligated to get the wagon ready to leave.
