I never thought I would miss the smell of manure and wet hay, but after two weeks at the provincial branch of Valdris Academy, the farm back home was starting to look pretty damn good in my memories.
The academy sat on the outskirts of Thornfield town, a cluster of stone buildings surrounded by training yards and a half-assed wall that probably would not stop a determined goat, let alone real trouble. It was not the grand capital academy with its marble halls and legendary instructors. This was the intermediate place, meant for commoners and minor nobles who showed enough spark to be worth training but not enough to threaten the real elite.
Still, it felt like a different world from Caldmere.
I stood in the dining hall line with my tray, trying to ignore the way some of the other students looked at us. The intermediate scholarship group stuck out. Our clothes were clean but plain, patched in places, and we did not carry ourselves with that effortless arrogance the noble kids had.
"Look at this lot," a voice drawled from a nearby table. "Fresh meat from the dirt farms."
I glanced over without turning my head. Three guys in better-cut tunics lounged there, silver pins on their collars marking them as minor House affiliates. The speaker was a tall blond kid named Harlan something-or-other, son of a provincial lord's cousin or whatever. He had that lazy smirk that screamed he had never worked a real day in his life.
His friends laughed. One of them, a skinny redhead with a permanent sneer, pointed his fork at our group. "Bet they still smell like pig shit. How did they even let commoners in this year? Standards are slipping."
Mira stood right behind me in line. I felt her tense up, her tray rattling slightly. She was not the type to start fights, but she had a sharp tongue when pushed.
"Easy," I muttered under my breath. "Do not give them the satisfaction."
She exhaled through her nose. "I know. But gods, they are loud about it."
Kael was a few spots ahead of us, quietly loading his tray with the basic stew and bread. As a janitor he was not even supposed to eat in the main hall with the students, but one of the kitchen staff had taken pity on him and let him grab meals here if he came late. He kept his head down, but I saw the way his shoulders tightened at the comments. He had already dealt with enough snickering during the initial testing.
We found a table near the back, away from the main noble clusters. The food was decent, at least. Better than Mom's on her off days, but nothing fancy. I dug in, keeping my voice low.
"First week and they are already acting like we stole their spots," I said. "Harlan and his crew have been like this since orientation."
Mira stabbed at her stew. "It is not just them. Some of the girls in the dorm wing keep 'accidentally' bumping into me and whispering about how scholarship students lower the tone. One asked if I knew how to use a fork properly."
Kael sat across from us, eating steadily. He had a bruise fading on his cheek from that bandit scrap the other day. "Ignore it," he said quietly. "Words do not change what we can do. Focus on the drills. The rest is noise."
Easy for him to say. He had that calm farmboy stubbornness that made insults roll off like water. But I could tell it got to him sometimes. The way the instructors sometimes overlooked him during demonstrations, or how the other students whispered about his weak orb reading.
I leaned in a bit. "They are not completely wrong about one thing. Some of these noble kids have been training with private tutors since they could walk. Their Aether control is smoother on the basics. But that is surface stuff. We have real grit from actual work."
Mira nodded, but her eyes flicked toward the snob table again. Harlan was laughing loudly now, telling some story about how his father once had a commoner servant whipped for spilling wine. The punchline was that the servant thanked him for the lesson.
My jaw tightened. In my old life I had read enough of these stories to know how this usually went. The arrogant young masters push the protagonist until he snaps back and starts climbing the ranks. Classic setup. And here I was, sitting in the middle of it, with the actual protagonist sweeping floors and eating last.
Part of me wanted to play it smart. Use my meta knowledge to navigate around the drama, make alliances with the right people, and climb without making enemies too early. Another part, the one that had always hated bullies even back on Earth, wanted to walk over there and wipe that smirk off Harlan's face.
But I held back. Partial success was the game. Shine enough to get noticed by the right people, but not so much that I painted a target on my back before I was ready.
After lunch we had practical Aether circulation class in the outer yard. The instructor, a grizzled retired soldier named Captain Lorne, lined us up and had us run basic exercises. Circulate Aether through the body, hold it in the core, release it in controlled bursts into practice stones.
The noble kids went first. Harlan stepped up with a flourish, pushed his Aether, and the stone lit up with a solid blue glow. Not amazing, but respectable for our level. His friends clapped like he had just slain a dragon.
When it was our turn, Mira did fine. Steady and controlled. She got a nod from the captain.
Kael went next. He placed his hands on the stone and concentrated. The glow was faint, that weak grayish flicker again. A couple of the snobs in the back snickered openly.
"Look at that," one muttered. "Janitor boy thinks he can play with real Aether."
Captain Lorne silenced them with a glare but did not say anything else. Kael just stepped back, face neutral, and went back to his spot.
I went after him. I pushed harder than I had at the village test, but not too hard. Enough to get a deeper blue than average, with a small swirl. The captain raised an eyebrow.
"Decent foundation," he grunted. "You have been practicing before coming here?"
"A bit," I said, keeping it vague. "Farm work helps with focus."
Harlan snorted from the sidelines. "Farm work. Sure. Probably just chasing chickens."
A few laughs followed. I ignored them and walked back to the group. Inside, though, my blood was up. These assholes had no idea what real pressure felt like. No idea that the world was bigger and darker than their little noble games.
Later that evening, after the official drills ended, I found a quiet corner of the yard to practice on my own. Kael was nearby again, sweeping leaves even though it was getting dark. Mira had gone back to the dorms to study.
Kael paused his sweeping and glanced over. "You are pushing yourself harder than you show in class."
I shrugged, cycling Aether through my arms until my muscles warmed. "Got to. These snobs will eat us alive if we do not get stronger fast."
He nodded slowly. "They look down on anyone without a fancy name. But strength is strength. They will learn that eventually."
I watched him for a moment. Here was the guy the story was built around, quietly enduring the same shit I was, except he had no meta knowledge to lean on. Just pure stubborn will.
"Yeah," I said. "They will."
But as I kept practicing, feeling the Aether respond better each day, I could not shake the excitement underneath the annoyance. This was the start. The academy was full of opportunities if I played it right. Alliances, knowledge, power.
Eren would call it stupid. He would say I was walking straight into the plot meat grinder.
Maybe he was right.
But lying back on the farm waiting for life to pass me by felt worse.
I pushed harder, letting the Aether burn in my core.
Let the snobs laugh for now.
I would make sure the last laugh was mine.