Almark had walked down the path to the schoolhouse with Zeid just the day before, but it looked completely different under the bright morning sunlight. It felt like a symbol of the hope awaiting him in this life, brought to shape at the end of this literal road.
“Excited, are you?” Zeid asked, walking ahead of Almark.
“It’s my first time going to school.”
“Yeah.” Zeid turned around to look at him and nodded. “Must be exciting.”
But Almark noticed the guard’s expression was very stiff. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
Zeid appeared surprised at Almark’s question. “Hm? What do you mean?”
“You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
“Oh…” Zeid cracked a strained smile and gently slapped his cheeks. “I’m never good at hiding that stuff.” He looked firmly at Almark and added, “I’ll be honest, I wish I didn’t have to tell you this.”
“Tell me what?”
“About your father’s line of work… People don’t think too fondly of mercenaries in these lands.”
“They…what?”
“This country hasn’t seen war in a century. The only battles we know are the occasional monster attacks on the border. So Southerners have this prejudice that Northerners are barbarians who love to pick fights… Ah, I mean—!”
Seeing Almark’s gaze turn hostile at the word barbarians, Zeid waved his hands apologetically.
“Of course, not everyone shares that belief,” Zeid added, “but that’s just what the majority tends to think. Especially when it comes to mercenaries.”
“But there were mercenary bands that came from the central plains, too.”
“That might be true, but people here in the South don’t know what things are really like in the North. Same goes for me. Southerners think Northerners kill each other just for the fun of it.”
“…”
Almark had encountered such opinions on numerous occasions during his journey through the South. In Southerners’ eyes, war had nothing to do with them; it was only for uncultured barbarian brutes.
And he had to admit, it must have been comforting to think that way. After all, in an ideal world, people could live their lives without having to kill one another. But agreeing with this perspective would be tantamount to denying his father’s way of life.
And Almark couldn’t do that.
“But still, I…,” Almark began. “I’m the son of Reiz the Shadow Fang, a mercenary.”
Zeid scratched his head, unsure what to do. The headmaster had given him a difficult task, indeed.
Expecting an eleven-year-old to be shrewd enough to hide his father’s profession would be asking too much. But at the same time, if he talked openly about his background, people would view him with doubt and suspicion.
And in truth, he’d be lucky if prejudice was all he had to put up with. The Norkh Institute for Magic was backed by the royal family; even if social standing or background wasn’t taken into consideration, given the current political climate and the history of prior Northerner alumni, the school was hesitant to mention that it had a student who was the son of a Northern mercenary. After all, those same Northerner graduates of the past had been of noble background, and they still had a hard time being accepted.
And in fact, when Zeid filled out Almark’s paperwork, he wrote down Reiz’s profession as “blacksmith” at Eurog’s behest.
“I understand that it’s a hard pill to swallow,” Zeid said, clearly also uncomfortable with the situation. “But if you’re going to insist on telling the truth about your father, you might not be allowed to attend the institute.”
Almark bit his lip. When choices like this were forced on him, the words his father told him the night before he left came to mind.
“Use your head, Almark. Go find your path. One that’s right for you. Learn to think for yourself without relying on me.”
Almark bit his lip again, harder this time.
Father… I am proud to be your son. And should anyone mock me for being a mercenary’s son, I’ll put them in their place. But…
Almark’s harsh journey had taught him that if he let his emotions get the better of him, he’d never get what he wanted.
I’m sorry. Forgive me, Father.
“All right.” Almark nodded. “I’ll keep my father’s work a secret.”
Seeing the boy’s serene expression, Zeid frowned in unease. “Yeah? Thank you. We appreciate it,” he said, looking apologetic.
Near the entrance to the schoolhouse, a woman in a bright green robe waited for them.
“Oh, this here is Professor Fia, your homeroom teacher,” Zeid said. “Lucky you. Mmgh.”
Zeid swayed on the spot with jealousy, prompting Almark to inch away from him.
The homeroom teacher smiled warmly. “It’s nice to meet you. Almark, right?”
“Yes.” Almark nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Right then, Professor Fia. I’m leaving him in your very capable hands.” Zeid bowed his head behind Almark.
“Oh, yes. Thank you, Zeid,” said Fia.
“Not at all. Now then, Almark—should you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask. You can always find me by the front gate.”
“Right. Thank you for everything.” Almark shook Zeid’s hand.
“Now, let’s go. The classroom is this way.”
At Fia’s urging, Almark entered the schoolhouse.
As she led him to class, Fia gave him a concise explanation of the three-year-long elementary division. It was divided into three classes of fifteen students. Elementary students received a general education while also studying the basics of magical technique.
“Third-years can already use magic to some extent, even if they’re very basic spells. But you don’t need to worry; the headmaster tells me you have spectacular talent for magic, so I’m sure you’ll get the hang of spellcasting soon enough. Until then, take your time and get settled in.”
Almark nodded obediently.
“We currently have fifteen students in the class, so someone always ended up without a partner whenever we had to pair up. But now we’ll have sixteen,” Fia said with a smile. She stopped before a door in the third-floor hall. “This is the classroom. Go on.”
She opened the door, inviting him in. It was a simple classroom, with bright sunlight streaming in through the window.
As Almark walked into the classroom, fifteen students watched him with curiosity. Almark was already used to being in front of a crowd. During his travels through the central plains, he had joined a troupe of traveling entertainers and swung his sword about as some kind of fencer boy wonder. Now he stood beside Fia as she took her spot atop the teacher’s podium and looked around the classroom, taking in each student’s face.
Leila, whom he met that morning, was there. He soon found his own seat, an empty desk and chair in the far right corner of the classroom. His eyes then met those of the girl occupying the adjacent seat. She flashed a graceful but friendly smile at Almark that left quite an impression on him. This girl had a strange charm to her. Recalling Leila’s demeanor that morning, Almark pondered if she was a noble’s daughter, too. Incidentally, Leila was sitting in the window-side seat and was casting her gaze out the window in a bored manner.