“Well!” Altaburry stood from the desk, pushing back his chair. I followed him as the history professor stuck out his hand for me to shake. “That’s all settled, then. The official start date of the semester has been set for a week from today, to allow the student body one last opportunity to settle down after all of the excitement. The gates are to be opened once more, and free movement in the city is permitted off of campus. Good day, Mr. Hart. I look forward to seeing you in my classroom.”

  Before Altaburry could finish exiting the room, I spoke up. “Ah…wait a moment, Professor,” I said, causing him to turn to me with one eye cocked and a hand on the doorknob. “I’m assuming supplies can be purchased on campus? Things like textbooks and the like?”

  To my surprise, Altaburry blinked at me in confusion before an amused smile crossed his lips. “Purchasing textbooks? What a novel concept, Mr. Hart. I cannot imagine a world in which all students possess a personal copy of the required reading. No,” He said, shaking his head. “Texts shall be read from in class, and in your free time, students have access to the library where valuable copies are present for perusing. All other supplies you might require for classes can certainly be acquired on campus. We have no shortage of approved local merchants seeking to provide for the student body. I’m sure Headmaster Greycton can fill you in on all you’d need. Now, if that’s all?”

  Ah. Of course. I forgot, for a moment, I wasn’t attending a modern-day University from back on Earth. The printing press wasn’t a thing here, yet, and so books were far more valuable than I was used to. It took painstaking work to copy a book, and most of the time, they were artistic works as well as academic ones. While I’m sure Magic had to help in the process to a degree, there was no way a school like this had access to an effectively endless supply of textbooks to sell. Modern paper wasn’t a thing as well, so they had to rely on parchment. That just exacerbated the problem.

  I’d either have to mingle with the rest of the student body for my reading, or possibly bum a copy off of Grey.

  At the way Altaburry was starting to look visibly impatient, I dipped my head with a smile. “Of course, Professor. Don’t let me keep you.” He returned it with a brisk nod and then opened the door to slip out into the hallway, letting the noise of the crowd filter back in. I cracked my neck and followed after him.

  I was probably done for the day. It was time for me to meet back up with my friends and see what they were taking. I probably didn’t have many overlapping classes with Renauld, considering he’d already been attending the Academy for several years before I met him. But I might have some with Azarus, Liora, and Sylvia.

  It was as I was slipping my way through the crowd, deep in thought, idly letting my eyes drift among the open doors of the interview rooms, that I stopped in surprise. I’d thought to look for my friends that way, but I’d found someone else I’d recognized in one of them. Someone whom I…hadn’t thought about in some time, with all of the excitement in my life. But also someone I was deeply glad to see. They looked a little different, and a little older, but still recognizable to me. A smile etched its way onto my lips at the sight of them, and I edged my way through the crowd to wait outside their room patiently. They were deep in conversation with their own professor, a very stately looking woman with steel gray hair in deep blue robes, and I didn’t want to interrupt them. It didn’t take long for them to finish up, and I exchanged respectful nods with the professor as she exited the room.

  As the other occupant stood from their chair and turned to face the doorway, they froze in surprise at the sight of me, while my smile only widened.

  “M-Mr. Hart?!” Walter Meyers stuttered, frozen in place next to his chair.

  In response, I strode into the room and, before he could react, pulled the younger man into a loose hug. For a moment, Walter didn’t react to the embrace, but eventually, I felt his skinny arms creep around me awkwardly. I didn’t want to make it worse for the young man, so I didn’t maintain it for long. When I pulled away, I made sure to keep my hands on his shoulders so I could meet his eyes. “Walter! Good to see you. It's been too long. The last time we saw each other was…Hollow Hill, right?”

  As Walter nodded at me jerkily, I considered him. Walter Meyers had been one of the few other slaves I’d made a connection with back in Addersfield. Through a complicated scheme, he had even been the person who had granted me the Wildshaping Profession, before I’d gotten Aetherial Melding. After our escape from Addersfield, he had been deemed too young and inexperienced to participate in the war effort and had been left behind with Rachel in Grey’s ancestral home of Hollow Hill. I’d forgotten, though, that Walter had been offered a full-ride scholarship to the Academy at the same time Rachel had been offered a job. I hadn’t heard a thing about him in the year since I had seen him, and as young men tended to do, he’d certainly changed in that time.

  Walter was now a…bit taller than me, actually. I think he must have been around seventeen or eighteen by this point, and had maybe two to three inches on me. The result was a very tall, very lanky-looking young man with an equally patchy five o’clock shadow on his thin features. He’d let his hair grow out long enough that he had it tied back in a very teenagerish ponytail. But none of that highlighted the biggest change about Walter.

  It appeared that he might have found religion.

  Walter was wearing a familiar white and green robe, with a prominent spiral embossed on the front in bronze. That was very clearly the regalia of the Gyreite priesthood, known as the Preceptors. It had been so long since I had interacted with a Gyreite, even though they’d had a presence in Kawamara, that I was a bit startled to see it. The difference was obvious, however. The few Preceptors I’d spoken to in the past had not only been darker-skinned, but the symbol of their station had been cast in gold instead of Walter’s bronze. Not only that, but I found it hard to believe that Walter possessed the actual class of Preceptor, the basis of the Church’s influence and the reason they had a ‘special relationship’ with the…System…

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Actually…I…hadn’t considered that before now. I only knew of one other group with higher order access to the inner workings of the System, and that was the Netherim.

  Was…there a connection there?

  Food for thought. For now, it was time to catch up with Walter.

  I maintained a smile on my lips as Walter nodded at my earlier question, eyes still wide at the sight of me. “Ah…yes, Mr. Hart. It’s been a long time. I, uh…a lot has changed since we saw each other.”

  Well, well. It sounded to me like Walter had found some confidence, too. Last I’d seen the young man, he’d barely been able to speak without stuttering. But, maybe that was unfair of me. He’d not only suffered the scourge of slavery, but of losing his entire family and social group to the same Elven raid which had robbed him of them. A year was a long enough time to find a semblance of stability and normalcy. I smiled and inclined my head towards the door. He took the hint and followed me out into the hallway. I didn’t see any of my other friends on the way, but that was fine. I’d catch up with them later.

  For now, I was interested in speaking with Walter.

  ……………………………..

  Not long after, Walter displayed a surprising familiarity with the Academy campus, and led me to a small diner not too far from the Main Hall. There we settled down, and after ordering a late lunch, got to talking.

  “So, did you join the church?” I asked him, leaning back in my chair.

  “Ssssort of,” Walter replied, shrugging one shoulder. “I, uh. I’m not a Preceptor or anything yet, which means I haven’t taken any vows. I…was…a little…lost after everything that happened. I had never really given much thought to Gyreism before…” He trailed off.

  “Before.”

  “Yeah,” He said quietly, staring down at his half-eaten bowl of soup. “Before. We had a village Preceptor, and he was a nice man. Brother Franklin wasn’t even a real one, just a man assigned to home by the Church. Unlike the other kids, I wanted to learn how to read. He was…kind to me. So I…kinda wandered into Hollow Hill’s church one day, and the Preceptor there…he helped me a lot. I…signed up, then. With the Church, I mean. I’m even technically a Novice right now, learning and training to be…something like a Preceptor myself. I've been down here in Blutstein for a while now, after the end of the war. I came down here with Ms. Rachel in a caravan, but I haven't seen her recently, not with my training.” He looked up at me then, looking a little desperate, as if he was willing me to understand. “I just want to help people, like Brother Franklin did for me.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “It’s fine, Walter. Really, I get it. I’m happy you found something you can do with your life. And…I’m guessing it doesn’t interfere with your Gyreite studies if you were signing up for classes at the Academy?”

  Walter shook his head. “No, actually. Did you know the Church is actually one of the main benefactors for the Academy?” He said excitedly, leaning forward. At my quirked eyebrow, he continued. “Yeah, I didn’t know this, but Roricia and the Church were who first bankrolled Headmaster Greycton’s reforms when he took the post! Ever since then, they’ve had a ‘special relationship’, according to Preceptor Marcorra. This is the only place on the continent that has a full complement of Knights Palatine other than the Fatum Primarium.”

  Well.

  There were two names I knew absolutely nothing about. I could make some guesses on the context, though, considering I wasn’t going to outright ask Walter. These were probably things a native born Veredenese would understand easily. I’d never spoken to Walter about my Precursorial origins, and I had no intentions of starting now.

  He didn’t need to be dragged into my problems.

  Instead, I let my amusement at his enthusiasm leak onto my face, and at the sight of it, Walter leaned back in his chair. He took a self-conscious sip of water at my stare, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Walter might have grown up some, but he was still very much a teenager.

  “I see you’re an Apprentice, too,” I said, nodding to the half-blue and half-green bronze pin on his robe. “So, you haven’t reached the first breakpoint yet, I’m guessing.”

  “Yes,” Walter nodded vigorously, eyeing my own pin with no small amount of jealousy. “I…haven’t reached that point. But I’m thinking I’ll be a Magi for…reasons.”

  My attention was drawn by a small questioning feeling in the back of my mind. That pretty much told me that it was time to go, so I reached for my waist and, ignoring Walter’s protests, placed enough coin on the table to pay for our lunch. “Well, it was great catching up with you, Walter. But I’ve got to go now. I’ll see you around, yeah? Maybe we’ll even have classes together.”

  To my surprise, Walter set his shoulders at that and nodded firmly. “We will. I know we will. I’ll…see you later, Sir Hart.”

  Sir? The hell was up with that? I…didn’t know knowledge of the whole ‘Knight’ thing had circulated around. I was also a bit uncomfortable being referred to that way by him, but…

  I was just going to have to get used to it, I suppose.

  I finished my goodbyes, and once I was outside the diner, picked up the metaphorical ‘phone call’ I was getting from Fade.

  “What’s up?” I thought his way. “You need something?”

  “Uhh…not really?” Fade responded, in an oddly confused tone of ‘voice’. “It’s more that Grey is asking for you, since he knows you’re meant to be done.”

  “What, is the old man longing for my presence already?”

  Fade yipped a laugh in my mind, a distinctly canine noise. “Nope. It’s more that you have someone here asking for you. Um, I think they’re important? Grey said something about a ‘Regent Lord’.”

  I stopped in place in the middle of the avenue, nearly bumping into a Gnoll woman. I apologized to the irate shopper and then answered Fade. “Wenzel von Steinmark is in Grey’s house?” I asked him incredulously. “What the hell does he want?”

  “Grey didn’t tell me, but I heard what it is through the door,” Fade answered conspiratorially. “Something about Knights?”

  Oh.

  I groaned aloud, drawing odd looks from the other students around me.

  Wenzel really didn’t waste time, I see.