The Thandor household was grand, with ten maids attending to its every need. The family of nobles consisted of Kalvein Thandor, the former general of the First Squad of the Kingdom of Bane, his wife Ashtrin Thandor, a noblewoman and daughter of a priest, and their son, Alaric Thandor.
One day, Alaric came running home, a small side bag slung over his shoulder, proudly carrying the bird and rabbit he had hunted. His father beamed and said, "Ah, that's my son—high skills in hunting, just like I had at your age."
His mother's expression was a mixture of worry and pride as she looked at him. "Honey, you shouldn't go into the forest without telling us. You could get hurt and not make it home," she said gently.
Alaric's face lit up with a bright smile. "Sorry, Mom! I was chasing that bird, and it led me into the forest. I won't do it again." He handed his little bag to one of the maids. "I'll go take a bath. Be ready to eat, okay?"
"Take your time," his parents said together.
During dinner, his father looked at him seriously. "Son, you're about to turn fifteen. It's time to prepare for school."
Alaric frowned. "But I want to be a knight. I don't need all that schooling."
His mother quickly interjected. "You shouldn't say that. You'll grow up, and people will call you uneducated, laughing at you behind your back."
Alaric, quietly thinking to himself, felt indifferent. I don't care about what others think… or all this noble stuff. It just drains me.
After finishing their meal, Alaric excused himself. "Goodnight," he said to his parents, retreating to his room. As he lay in bed, he wondered what kind of school he was about to attend—and slowly drifted into sleep.
Alaric trained with his father until he was utterly exhausted. Kalvein smirked and said, "You're still lacking stamina…and patience."
Without warning, Alaric launched another attack. His father blocked it easily and laughed, "That won't work on me—the former General of the First Squad!"
After a while, they took a break. Alaric's mother brought them tea and a cloth to wipe the sweat off. Kalvein teased, "Dear, your son is taking over soon, but he still needs to practice patience…and build more stamina for a longer fight."
His wife giggled, "I can already see your shadow in him when he moves freely. His talents for his age are impressive."
Alaric, curious, asked, "What are you laughing about?"
Kalvein teased, "We're just talking about how clumsy you still are."
Alaric huffed, "And here I am, trying my best!"
His mother smiled gently, "It's okay, son. He's only teasing. You're already skillful for your age. The difference in stamina between you and your father is just age. One day, you'll grow even stronger and protect both of us."
Alaric's eyes lit up. "Mom, I'll do my best and protect you!"
Kalvein, laughing from behind, added, "And don't forget—you're still going to school."
The day passed with laughter and arguments.
Later, Alaric sat with his tutor Natalia, reading his books with a bored expression. A knock on the door interrupted them. His mother entered, carrying tea. "Here's some tea for both of you," she said.
Alaric frowned slightly. "Mom, we have maids. Why don't you let them do it?"
She smiled, half-teasing. "I want to see how my son is doing. I can't resist."
"Of course you can—you're my mom," Alaric replied, and they both laughed.
His mother asked Natalia, "So, how is he doing?"
Natalia shrugged. "Well, he does well…if he wants to. Though he's mainly interested in the battle part."
His mother laughed. "That's my son."
She left them to their work, and Alaric returned to his studies.
Finally, his fifteenth birthday arrived. Neighbors were invited, and a small celebration took place. His father proudly announced, "Alaric will attend Elysium Academy—a school for noble and royal children from the five nations."
The crowd murmured in admiration. "Wow, that's amazing! Expected from our former General!"
Alaric exhaled heavily in the corner. "What a pain…"
The night ended with laughter, pride, and the quiet anticipation of the journey ahead.
The time for him to leave for school had finally arrived.
Alaric stood at the gate, saying goodbye to his parents. His mother was already in tears, holding his hands and reminding him again and again to write letters whenever he could. Alaric gently tried to calm her, telling her not to cry, that it would only be a few years, and that he would return.
His father stood quietly beside them, pretending he wasn't affected. Alaric noticed, of course. With a small grin, he teased him.
"So even for a former general, goodbye still hurts?"
Then he added softly, "This isn't really goodbye. I'll come back, Dad."
Kalvein looked away, clearing his throat.
With that, Alaric took his bag and climbed into the carriage, waving as it slowly moved away. As the road stretched ahead of him, he made a promise to himself. He would return stronger. He would meet the expectations of his family, make them proud, and one day carry the weight his father had borne for so long.
The academy gates were already crowded when he arrived.
Voices filled the air. Students his age stood in groups, murmuring nervously, excitement and fear mixing together. Alaric stepped down from the carriage, taking a deep breath. He pulled out the small paper his father had written for him, reading the instructions once more before moving forward.
Students were called in one by one.
"Next."
Alaric stepped forward. He was asked his name, his nation, and his background. He answered with a slightly trembling voice, doing his best to stay composed. After that, he was directed inside to complete his admission.
At last, he was asked a few questions by the teachers in charge of admissions. The new students who came to enroll were questioned as well, and then told to wait for a moment.
A short while later,
A receptionist handed him his student card and directed him toward the academy grounds. As he walked through the gates, he stopped in his tracks.
The academy was massive. White stone walls mixed with soft blue accents, gold shining along the rooftops. Alaric stared in awe.
"So this is where I'll be studying…"
He let out a quiet breath. "You could've warned me, Dad."
He looked down at his card.
First Year. Classroom Two.
As he searched for the building, he noticed a girl nearby, nervously checking her own card again and again. She looked lost. Alaric hesitated, then stepped closer.
"Excuse me—"
She let out a small shout, startled by his voice. Alaric flinched as well, equally surprised.
"S-sorry," he said quickly. "I was just wondering… this is my classroom. Do you know where it is?"
The girl blinked, then sighed in relief.
"Oh—same here. I've been looking everywhere."
Alaric smiled. "If you're okay with it, we can look together."
She nodded. "Yes, that would help a lot."
After a few moments of searching, they finally found the room.
"This is it," Alaric said. Then he paused. "Ah—I don't think I caught your name."
The girl bowed slightly. "Sorry for not introducing myself. My name is Lalanat. I'm from the Balp Nation."
He returned the gesture.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Alaric, from the Bane Nation. I'm glad we'll be in the same class."
The bell rang, echoing through the marble halls, as students hurried into the classroom. Alaric slid into a corner seat in the middle row, Lalanat quietly taking the seat beside him. His mind drifted, thinking of his father's lessons and the path ahead.
A sudden creak of the door snapped him back. Every student stiffened and bowed as the teacher entered.
"My name is Alice," she said, her voice steady and firm, "and I will be your homeroom teacher." She paused, scanning the room. "Before we begin, it's important you understand the foundation of this school—it was built by five nations. Knowing who we are, and the people around us, is the first step in respecting one another."
Her eyes swept over the students as she began:
"First, Valerith—the High Crown Nation. Approach its children with respect. Their royal lineage demands it."
"Second, Bane—renowned for military tradition and discipline. Strength here is earned, not given."
"Third, Caelwyn—the nation of scholars. Words can cut deeper than swords; never forget that."
"Fourth, Balp—a prosperous trade nation. Wealth is their weapon; alliances, their currency."
"Finally, Dravenn—the border nation. Often underestimated, but never dismiss their resilience."
The room was silent, the weight of centuries of history settling over the students. Alaric felt it too—the subtle hierarchy, the invisible lines of influence and power.
Alice smiled faintly. "Now, please make your way to the campus courtyard. The principal will welcome you and introduce the school formally. Pay attention; this is the beginning of your journey."
Students headed toward the courtyard. Suddenly, someone tapped Alaric on the shoulder. Surprised, he turned to see Lalanat.
"Wanna walk together there?" she asked.
"Ahh, it's you. I don't mind," Alaric replied.
The two walked side by side to the courtyard, where the boys and girls stood separated. The principal stepped up and addressed the students.
"I welcome all first-year students to Elysium Academy," he began.
"This school was formed by five nations. Your homeroom teacher may have already told you—or will tell you later—about the rankings. But remember, there is no rule requiring protection of higher-ranked students or disrespect to lower-ranked ones. Here, you are all equal."
He continued, "I hope you enjoy your time here, achieve something meaningful, and learn from each other."
The students applauded, and then they were instructed to return to their classrooms.
The school bell rang, and students flooded toward the dining hall. Some hurried to meet friends, others squeezed through the crowded corridors.
Lalanat spotted Alaric and waved. "Wanna walk together?"
"Ah, it's you again. I don't mind," he replied.
They walked side by side. Alaric's jaw dropped when he saw the spread of food—freshly cooked dishes laid out neatly along long tables. He almost shouted.
Lalanat noticed his expression. "Let's join the line over there," she said, trying not to laugh.
Alaric nodded. They grabbed plates and began filling them, eyes scanning for an empty spot. Finally, he spotted a quiet corner table. "Let's sit there," he suggested.
As they settled, Alaric asked, "Lala, you okay with this?"
She blushed, fumbling with her fork. "Eh… Lala…"
"Ah, your full name's a bit hard to pronounce, so I hope it's okay if I just call you that," Alaric said, a hint of apology in his voice.
She gave a shy smile. "No… it's fine. My mom used to call me that anyway."