The door creaked softly as I pushed it open, revealing a modest yet well-kept dorm room. It wasn't anything extravagant, but it was certainly a step up from the creaky floorboards and cold walls back in the Pale March.
The room was rectangular, lit gently by a small floating orb hovering near the ceiling—probably a low-grade mana lamp. Its pale light cast soft shadows over the stone walls, which were polished smoother than I expected for a servant's quarters.
There was a simple wooden bed, neatly made with brown linens and a single pillow. The mattress looked firm, not quite comfortable, but definitely manageable. At the far corner was a small writing desk, a few ink bottles lined at the side with a drawer slightly ajar. Beside it stood a wardrobe—nothing too large, but enough to store a few changes of clothes.
I dropped my luggage near the foot of the bed and made a slow circle around the room, hand brushing the desk surface, testing the creak of the wardrobe's hinges, even opening the drawer to find some leftover parchment, a half-dried quill, and oddly enough, a single marble.
"Well… at least it's quiet," I muttered, sinking down onto the edge of the bed.
I reached under the frame to stash the case I brought, careful to keep it hidden but within reach. Then I stretched out, arms above my head, eyes on the ceiling as the mana lamp gently flickered in place.
It was strange. For the first time in a while, I had a space that was mine—even if only barely.
Serenya's voice quietly echoed in my mind.
"You've wandered a long path already, Ezekiel. Take a moment to breathe."
I gave a faint chuckle. "Is this your version of telling me to take a nap?"
"Perhaps."
I sat back up and walked to the small window beside the desk. Outside, the view overlooked a courtyard where a few servant-class attendees were chatting or organizing equipment. It wasn't particularly scenic, but I could see the tops of the main towers in the distance—tall, elegant, and a little intimidating.
"…Welcome to Aetherfall, I guess," I whispered to myself.
And with that, I closed the curtain and began to settle in—not knowing what the next day would bring.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, still disoriented from the nap, and slowly cracked open the door.
Standing there was a young servant girl, probably a little younger than me. She had a soft face but her posture was rigid—clearly someone used to following orders to the letter.
"You're Lady Varis's attendant, right?" she asked plainly, her hands folded in front of her apron.
This girl… what time even is it?
"Um… yes, what can I help you with?" I asked, blinking against the dim hallway light.
"The instructors asked me to inform all assigned attendants. The first day is about to begin, so you'll need to accompany your master in her morning rituals, then prepare to follow her throughout classes and duties."
I squinted at her. "Wait—what time is it?"
"It's about four."
"...Four in the morning?"
She gave a small nod, as if that was the most normal thing in the world.
"Don't classes start at… six? Or something reasonable?"
"They do. But we, as attendants, are expected to be ahead. Servants begin the day earlier. Some already started an hour ago."
I stared at her for a solid second. "You're not making sense."
She tilted her head, then gave a small, polite smile that almost said "you'll get used to it."
"You'll see. It's best not to keep your master waiting," she said, stepping back and turning on her heel with the poise of someone who had done this routine dozens of times.
I groaned, closing the door behind me.
"Great. My first day in the most prestigious academy in the land… and I get woken up at four to pour tea or carry books."
Serenya chimed quietly in my head.
"At least it's not marching through snow with half a boot."
"You're not helping," I muttered, grabbing my new clothes and changing in a hurry.
I ask one of the staff in the front office where the dorm for the student Varis's dorm as a attendee.
"I see, you're her servant," the staff member at the front desk said after eyeing my badge and the parchment I'd been clutching.
"Yep… sadly."
They gave a slight smirk. "Then just head to the main building—the large one in the center. Walk straight until you see the grand fountain. Take the left path from there, it'll lead you to the Noble Dormitory. Enter that wing, head up the staircase on the right, and climb all the way to the seventh floor. Your master's family crest will be marked on the door."
"Right. Thanks." I gave a small nod, turning to leave.
As I stepped out, the early dawn's chill pressed gently against my face. The skies were still dim, painted in sleepy hues of grey and blue. Lamps along the paved path still flickered with magical flame, casting faint halos on the brick ground. I walked in silence—just the rhythm of my shoes and my breath filling the calm.
The main building loomed like a temple of knowledge and status. Its arched gates greeted me with cold iron and stone, covered in etched runes that shimmered subtly in the dark. The fountain greeted me just as they said, elegant and massive, its marble waters reflecting the skies above.
To the left I went.
The Noble Dormitory was… different. The doors weren't just numbered—they were carved with family emblems, some glowing with mana inscriptions. I felt like an outsider just passing through a gallery of prestige.
Climbing seven floors didn't help either. By the fifth, my legs were shaking. By the sixth, I was out of breath.
"Of course it had to be the seventh floor," I muttered between gasps.
Finally, I reached it. Along the quiet hall stood ornate doors, all neatly spaced and eerily silent. I followed the engravings until one particular door stood out: a silver tree branching across obsidian black wood, with vines curling into the family crest—VARIS—etched in gold just below the handle.
This was it.
I hesitated, brushing the dust off my robe. My reflection stared back faintly in the polished brass of the doorknob. My hand hovered before knocking.
Here we go again.
Knock. Knock.
A pause.
Then the door clicked.
Elowynn stood there, dressed already in her academy uniform—dark silks trimmed in silver and a crimson insignia pinned near her chest. Her long silver-blonde hair was braided loosely, and her eyes, sharp and unreadable as always, flicked down at me.
"You're late," she said flatly.
"It's four-fifteen."
"Exactly."
Without waiting for a response, she turned around and left the door open for me to enter.
I sighed, stepped in, and quietly closed the door behind me.
I stepped into the room quietly, the click of the door shutting behind me sounding louder than expected in the still air.
Elowynn's dormitory wasn't what I anticipated—it wasn't drenched in gold or overly lavish. Instead, it was cold, clean, and organized. Dark wood furnishings, spotless shelves filled with books and scrolls, a small private table already arranged for tea, and curtains tied tightly to let in what little light the dawn could offer. Neat. Precise. Controlled.
She stood near the full-length mirror, adjusting the final button on her uniform jacket. Her silver-blonde hair, tied half-up, glinted under the subtle glow of the enchanted lanterns. She didn't even glance at me.
"Assist me," she said plainly.
"Uh—what exactly do you want me to do?" I asked, keeping my voice calm.
"The gloves."
I looked to the desk. A pair of soft gray gloves made of silk and leather lay neatly folded.
I picked them up and approached. She raised her hand slightly, fingers poised, expectant.
Trying not to tremble, I gently slid the glove over her right hand, then the left. Her skin was colder than I expected—like porcelain left under moonlight. She didn't speak or move unnecessarily, only watched me through the mirror.
"You've done this before?" she asked, eyes still focused forward.
"No. First time putting gloves on someone else, really."
"Hmm."
She turned and gestured toward the uniform cape resting on a hanger by the wall. Without a word, I grabbed it and carefully swung it over her shoulders. The fabric was heavy with enchantments—definitely something custom, probably woven with mana threads.
As I adjusted the clasps by her collar, I caught a faint whiff of something subtle—juniper and frost. Cold and clean. Just like her.
"Button the side clasp," she added.
"Right."
I fumbled for a second before figuring it out, but eventually fastened it without incident.
"There," I said quietly.
"Good. Now take my satchel," she motioned toward a rectangular, rune-marked case sitting on the edge of the bed.
"What's in this?"
"My books, scrolls, my spell ring, and backup mana ink. Carry it carefully—don't tilt it."
"Got it."
I slung the bag over my shoulder—it was heavier than expected—and followed her as she turned and walked toward the door.
Before opening it, she paused.
"You didn't spill the ink. That's already better than my last servant."
I blinked. Was that…praise?
"Thanks, I think."
She didn't reply—only stepped out into the hallway, and I followed close behind, the satchel resting against my side like a badge of unfamiliar purpose.