Lucius's perspective
Time passed so lightly that, by the time I stopped to look, we were already twelve years old. Twelve years in this barely explored world, full of laws I still don't understand and mysteries lurking behind every well-lit corner. I'm curious to uncover it all, especially considering what the Paradox Scriptures have offered me so far.
I've been ignoring something obvious: that book might hold information about this world. Useful information. Crucial, even. And yet, I overlooked it. Why? The answer is simpler than I'd like to admit. Because I'm obsessed with earning a place. A name. A position. I want to be someone great and important. Just like Father is, and Mother was.
Isolde and I decided to follow that same path. To become general guardians of the kingdom. An ambition lofty enough to demand more than mere desire. To achieve it, we must first rise as warriors: reach the rank of Sentinel, then Master of the Veil, continue until we become Ether-level Guardians, and finally attain the title of General Sergeant.
But it all begins in one place:
Millford Magic Academy.
"Wow." Yes, that should be the appropriate reaction. But I can't help feeling a twinge of cynicism. In my previous world, novels recycled these magical academies so often they became as predictable as the ending of a bad tragedy. It's hard to get excited when you already know the trick behind the curtain.
"Do we really have to enroll in the academy?" Isolde asked, unenthusiastically. She was sitting next to me, half-slumped on the bench, as if gravity affected her more than the rest of the world. "I know we have to go through this to become General Sergeants, but I doubt it's the best way to improve our physical skills. Plus… we've been waiting for three hours."
"I know, but…" I tried to speak, only to be interrupted.
"Three hours, Lucy! This is so boring~!"
"Don't interrupt me while I'm talking, Issy."
"Sorry~."
"And yes, it's important. Remember, we need to graduate to get our student registration, so we can take the promotion exam."
Bureaucracy is tedious, yes. But it's an advantage in disguise. Once we become General Sergeants, we'll be able to travel the world without restrictions, explore its secrets, or gain power. The downside is the anchor: if the kingdom faces a crisis, we'll be obligated to return immediately to maintain order. I suppose even freedom comes with a tightly bound chain.
The academy is divided into six years. The first two qualify you for the Master of the Veil exam, the next two for ascending to Ether-level Guardian, and the final two are the threshold to becoming a General Sergeant. One shot. One chance. Fail, and you're stuck forever at the lower rank. No second tries. No redemption.
For now, all we can do is prepare for the entrance exam. Become, even if temporarily, Sentinels of the kingdom in training. While we're inside, that title is little more than a game of tag. The real responsibility falls on the true Sentinels. We'll just observe. Learn. Prepare.
"Do we really have to wait for the line to get shorter? If we stay here, it'll be nightfall before we can even register for the entrance exam."
"It's something we have to do to enroll. Besides, the line isn't that long, Issy. You're getting worked up over nothing."
"Hey! Ugh! This is so boring~!"
It really is. But I can't entirely blame her. The line to reach the registration tables seems endless. I suppose that's what happens when an academy becomes the kingdom's only educational hub and takes in an entire generation of aspirants, from nobles with grand surnames to peasants with dreams too big for their boots.
Interestingly, some choose to emigrate to other kingdoms or even cross continents just to avoid this place. Maybe the idea of competing with hundreds of desperate kids vying for recognition feels… repulsive. And it's understandable: this line has humans, sure, but also elves and dwarves. I wonder if that'll be an issue. The novels from my previous life described endless conflicts between those races. Though, of course, fiction rarely gets real politics right.
"Oh! Hey, Lucius, Isolde!" a familiar voice called out. Alicia appeared from the right, weaving through the crowd as if people were just scenery.
"Hi…" I replied, my expression unchanged.
"Alicia! Good morning!"
"What are you guys waiting for?" she asked, plopping down next to me like the wait didn't apply to her.
"We're waiting for the line to shrink so we can register too. What about you?" Isolde answered, always more sociable than me. I, on the other hand, just stared at the sky, searching the clouds for some distraction that didn't involve unnecessary social interaction.
"I see… I don't think this line's going anywhere soon. I can't even see the end anymore. Want some help?"
Help? What kind of help could someone like Alicia offer in a situation like this? Unless she's planning to cut the line or convince us to do it, which would be… interesting, but risky.
"How exactly are you going to help us?"
"Hehe… Just wait a sec," she said, suddenly standing up and darting toward the line. She soon vanished among the tightly packed bodies of the other students.
"Uh… what's she supposed to be doing?"
"No idea! But I have a feeling it's going to be impressive."
"Well… whatever it is, we've got no choice but to wait. Want something to drink?"
"Yes! But… do you have any money?"
"Of course. Mother gave me 50 florins. I guess that's enough for a bottle of water for both of us."
"Sweet! I'll wait here then."
"Be right back."
I stood up and walked away from the bench, leaving Isolde behind. Fifty florins for a bottle of water… I guess that's the price of civilization. Glass bottles, a liter of filtered water, maybe a fancy design on the label. Nothing that justifies the cost, obviously. But the monetary system of this world has its own logic. A logic that's still not entirely clear to someone like me, who's only just starting to build a new existence here.