The sound of the oint faded, and his new surroundings came into focus. Uhe previous Waystations he had passed through, this o at the heart of an enormous square surrounded by massive buildings of sto ns surrouhe space, and the ones appeared to show depis of battles, legendary beasts, and figures that Krion assumed to be important to the history of the Empire. Between most of the ns stood statues of individuals that he assumed to be nobility based on how they were dressed or armored. The one him depicted an older man iiculous detail, from the scars across his unarmored arms to the finely etched crest of crossed hammers on his chest pte. The gre captured oatue’s face seemed almost to be directed at him.

  Pulling his attention away from the statue, Krion looked around the square itself. Alive with movement, students of various ages and appearances were stantly fshing into being at other oints around the square. The majority were fnked by well-dressed bodyguards or attendants, their clothing immacute with crests, desigo vey wealth and status. Servants scrambled about carrying bags while the young nobility barked ands about where to go. People in bck armor wearing white masks were moving to escort those ready to leave out of the square.

  Kriohe difference immediately. He was an anomaly amidst the crowd, with his tattered, bloodstained clothes and his u appearance all marking him as someone who did not belong there. Heads turned as students and their entes caught sight of him. versations faltered in the groups him, repced by hushed whispers and sidelong gnces. One finely dressed young man wrinkled his nose and muttered something to his attendant, who smirked as he whispered back.

  Krion did his best to ighem. He had no real i in engaging with the pomp and spectacle around him. In fact, if the other students could just leave him alone while he got his bearings, that would make it easier for him to keep his head down and avoid attention. Alesin and Rolfun both had made it clear it would be in his best io do so.

  He stepped down off the ptform, looking for the figure in bck armor with a white mask. From what he could tell, those were the people who were helping the arrivals to find where they o go. While he looked around, his eyes kept being drawn to the buildings and towers surrounding the square. A few of the towers were especially eye-catg, their golden domes gleaming in the sunlight.

  A group of students passed by him in the wake of one of the figures in bck armor with a white mask. Their retainers followed closely behind, carrying all their masters’ and mistresses’ luggage. One of the girls in an emerald cloak g him as they moved along, the versation she was having with a boy wearing a simir cloak, just loud enough for Krion to overhear.

  “Araggler, barely into the low nobility it looks like,” the girl in the emerald cloak said, her voice dripping with disdain. “It seems like my older brothers were right. They really are increasing in number every year.”

  “Indeed, cousin,” the boy in the cloak walkio her said. “This one might have ed up a bit before arriving. However, perhaps his family is so low-ranking that they ot afford liness. Oh well. Best we follow the Sentinel and leave that one behind us.”

  The words bothered him a little, but there was not much he could do about his liness at the moment. No, what was getting to him about what they said was that, while the remarks stung arue — he did lh at the moment — it was yet another reminder of exactly how isoted he was here. Unlike everyohat he could see around him, he was alone. Holy, he really missed his friends ba Earth.

  That being said, he was thankful for the versation he had just overheard. Apparently, what he o find was a Sentinel. He tinued sing the square for any person in the bck armor and white mask that looked to be unoccupied. A otion off to the side stole his attention. A rge ente was in the process of esc a short boy dressed entirely in gold who had paused to yell at a smaller group of nobility dressed in e. Thankfully, the respective groups quickly separated without violence.

  Shaking his head at the distra, Krion refocused on his task. He couldn’t afford to waste time. As he made his way further from the oints themselves, the murmurs of the crowd faded into a low hum. His boots clicked against the marble as he made his way in the direost of the students were heading, only to have one of the Sentinels he was seeking suddenly appear in front of him.

  Up close, Krion was finally able to get a better look. Encased from head to toe in sleek bck armor, the ohat stood in front of him cked any unnecessary orion. A red rod the length of Krion’s forearm hung down by the figure’s side. What caught his attention, however, was the mask. Pure white aureless, it covered their entire face, leaving no opening for eyes, mouth, or s surface was unnaturally smooth as well and even seemed to absorb rather than reflect light. The ck of identifiable features lent the Sentinel an eerie, statuesque quality, making it impossible to dis aion or i behind their bnk visage. Which might well have been the point.

  “Apologies, but do you have an admittater, sir?” a warm, feminine voice came out from behind the mask.

  With a nod, Krion handed over the letter he had been holding since Alesin had given it to him. Without another word, the Sentinel gently took it, ope, and then began reading. Or at least he thought they were reading, given how the Sentinel was holding it before its mask.

  “Everything looks to be in order, Lord Krion,” the Sentinel said, only to make the letter disappear somehow. The voice took on a more severe tohat being said, this is the Imperial Academy, not a battlefield. Do you have a more appropriate ge of clothing for the Indu Ceremony?”

  Krion was only able to give a helpless shrug, beginning to feel nervous. “No. What you see is what I have.”

  “Hmm,” the masked face tilted up and doarently looking over what he was wearing in closer detail. “That will not due. It is the job of us Seo escort the prospective first years to the Amphitheater of Indu, but I think a trip to a tailor would be better first. With your permission, lord?”

  It took Krion a moment, but he realized that the Sentinel was asking if they might escort him to a tailor before the Amphitheater of Indu, whatever that was. “Of course. Please, lead on.” A w thought struck him. “But if this is going to e anything, I don’t have any money on me.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” the Sentinel replied, already moving to lead him out of the Waystation. “I’ll simply mention you need your school uniform early. Now, if you would follow me?”

  Rather than be left behind, Krion stepped up to walk beside the Sentinel. Given how the rest of the groups in the Waystation generally followed behind their Sentinels, it felt stra first, but he quickly pushed through it. He had too many questions to just walk in silenbsp;

  “Excuse me, Sentinel…?”

  “Just Sentinel,” they responded, white mask still fixed in the dire they were walking.

  “Of course. I was w if you might expin a bit more about the Imperial Academy as we walk?” His tone grew bitter, “My… family did not tell me much about it.”

  The Sentinel’s pace did not ge, but they did tilt their head slightly, as though sidering his request. The warm, feminine voice spoke, “I answer some of your questions, Lord Krion, but I ot provide information that verges on instru or teag. That is reserved for the faculty.”

  “Of course, I uand,” Krion nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

  As they strolled towards the edge of the square, Krion took in some of the other moal statues. Cast in bronze, each shoi of a man or woman of a range of races standing in anding postures. They almost seemed to be staring down at the students as they arrived. Before he could focus on any one of them, the Sentinel began to speak, their tone formal yet patient.

  “You are currently within a self-tained pocket pne — a unique pnar space structed millennia ago to serve as this branch of the Imperial Academy’s foundation. It is accessed exclusively through oints like the one you just arrived from. Students and faculty are drawn from the western regions of the Empire, with priority given to the nobility.”

  “A pocket pne?” Krion echoed, his curiosity piqued. He’d e across refereo pocket pnes in some of the games he had pyed while he was younger, and while he had some idea of what they were, it did not mean that everything was the same here in this new reality he was in.

  “Yes. This branch of the Imperial Academy was established at the fluence of several interdimensional ley lines. Such locations are rare and highly advantageous for those seeking to gain strength ah. Here, early-stage dungeons spawn frequently. Your teachers will expin more about them in time, but suffice to say they will be ideal for your training and education so long as you are here.”

  “Dungeons?” Krion asked, puzzled. It was aerm he was familiar with from the games he had pyed with his friends in the past, but again, that did not mean he uood what they were here.

  “You will learn about them ter,” the Sentinel replied simply, making it clear they would not eborate. “Everything here is geared toward training and edug the leaders of tomorrow. Basic education and training are provided to all students, but advanced csses, access to certain resources, and specialized training all require tributions.”

  Krion frowned in thought. He might have expected that to be the case, givehing that Alesin and Rolfun had hi in their discussions with him. He would o figure out quickly everything that he o do to get access to those things. He expected they would be necessary to get strong enough to make a difference for Earth.

  “A natural means of grooming the strong,” the Sentinel tinued when Krion did not interrupt. “Whether through material support, magical talent, or strategic alliances, only those who prove their worth rise to the top in the Empire.”

  As they finally passed through the arched hat surrouhe edges of the square, Krion found his attention going to the buildings lining a wide boulevard. The were structed primarily of white marble with veins of gold and silver running through the stohey gleamed uhe sunlight that bathed the pocket pne. Each of these first few buildings they passed seemed to be administrative in nature, their entrances guarded by Sentinels in slightly more ornate armor. Which is to say there were actual patterns on their armor, though what it represented, he had no clue.

  The buildings beyond these initial few were more what he had expected. Made of various woods and stones, many but not all had banners of various kinds on their rooftops. If he had to guess, they were the various noble houses that cimed them. His thoughts were firmed moments ter when the Sentinel tialking.

  “Students live within a unity structure. Based on the rank of your family within the Empire, you will be assigned a house to call your own. Though you ot see the walls from here, know that beyond them are areas also sidered a part of the campus, which will afford you plentiful opportunities for practical applications of your studies.”

  It was a rigid, meritocratic system, but ohat made seo Krion based on what he uood to be the Imperial Academy’s purpose: strengthening the Empire. “And I suppose the surrounding areas include dungeons?”

  The Sentinel’s silen the matter answered him well enough.

  They soon arrived at a grand wooden building of three floors adorned with intricate carvings of needle and thread. A carved sign above the entryway read, “Ward and Weave: Imperial Academy Tailors.” At the Sentinel’s gesture, Krion stepped past them to go inside and, much like he had with everything else so far, felt out of pbsp;

  The bottom floor was a bination lounge area and a series of mannequin dispys of various kinds of clothing, the most promi being what Krion took to be the school uniforms. Even from the door, he could tell the suit-like outfits were woven of fine cloth. Stepping further ihe Sentinel right behind him, he picked up the st of fresh polish in the air. Pulling his eyes from the uniforms on dispy, he go the far wall where several finely dressed students stood at ters, attendants h behind them as they finished paying for the uniforms they just purchased. versations were low and cultured, punctuated by polite ughter.

  Almost as soon as Krioered, however, the atmosphere ged. A number of eyes gnced in his dire, and he could practically feel the uncharitable thoughts being directed his way. He grit his teeth. Hopefully, he could get rid of what he was wearing soon; then, maybe he wouldn’t have to deal with attention like this.

  “By the Seven!” One of the young nobles excimed loudly after looking ba his dire. “Did he e straight from a ditch? Look at the state of him! Surely he must be one of those beggar soldiers here on schorship?”

  Cruel ughter greeted the young man’s words. Given the glint in his eyes, Krion had expected as much as soon as he had opened his mouth. Really, this treatment was starting to get old. Thankfully, all he had to do was ighese jabs o time, and he could be fitted to receive a school uniform and finally blend in. He repeated that thought in his mind multiple times, but he khat his face still burned with embarrassment.

  The gloating smile on the young noble’s face began to fade as Krion came closer, the Sentinel close behind. Soon looming above him, and the blood that covered him now clear to the joker, the young ried to find anywhere else to look but at who he had just been joking about.

  Ign him, Krion stepped past to stand before the ter and the immacutely dressed, severe-looking man who stood behind it. The man, who Krion assumed to be a tailor, was staring at the clothes he was wearing as if they were about to jump off his bad begin murdering everyone in the shop. So distasteful did the tailor find what he was wearing, that he didn’t even ask why Krion was there in the shop.

  “Alecto,” the Sentinel behind Krion prompted.

  The old tailor blinked, visibly resetting himself. Clearing his throat, he asked, “How might I help you?”

  “As you see,” Krioured down at himself, “I o be fitted for a school uniform.”

  “Of course. If you would follow me,” Alecto said, stepping out from behind the ter. He then led Krion to a stairway carefully structed to be mostly hidden behind the dispy mannequins so that it wouldn’t be seen by those just entering the shop. Following Alecto up the stairs, Krio ihe room on the sed floor when the old tailor pulled it open aured him inside.

  The room itself in except for the stacks of cloth and other materials around the room. Not being sure how this worked, since he had never been fitted for any clothing before while ba Earth, Krion turo Alecto as he closed the door behind the Sentinel as they ehe room.

  “Would you like me to stand somewhere in particur?”

  “Nht there is fine,” Alecto said. He rummaged around in his pocket for a moment, a frown on his face. Finally finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a strange needle. Before he could get more than a g it, Alecto she fingers on his other hand to get Krion’s attention. “The sooner you disrobe, the sooner we begin.”

  “Disrobe?” Krion asked, startled. Wheo nodded in firmation, Krion’s eyes shifted to the Sentinel leaning against the wall by the door.

  “As you are in my care, and not yet delivered to the Amphitheater of Induy duty requires that you not leave my sight,” the Sentinel respoo Krion’s unspokeion.

  Seeing Krion was still somewhat unfortable, Alecto kindly asked, “Have you never done a fitting before?”

  “No,” Krion responded with a wince. “And I have no idea how this works.”

  “Not a problem, not a problem,” Alecto said, trying to reassure him. “Simply take off your outer yer of clothes, and my magic will do the rest. I have been doing this work for decades now, so I assure you, it will be over in but a moment.”

  Not seeing any other option and acutely aware of how everything was stig to him due to old sweat and the blood from fighting the Storm Wolves, Krion raised his arms to begin taking his clothes off. Immediately, he ran into problems. There must have been something special about Storm Wolf blood, as every seam or button it had dried on was stuck.

  “Um, I might need a little help.”

  Seeing how much Krion was struggling, Alecto raised the needle he was holding and muttered something under his breath. An intation. Threads of light shimmered over Krion’s body, slig away the bloodied, tattered remnants of his clothing. As it fell away, it disied into harmless ash, leaving Krion standing bare save for his undergarments.

  Both Alecto and the Sentinel froze.

  The old tailor’s sharp eyes widened as they traced the voluted work of scars crisscrossing Krion’s back, chest, arms, and legs. The vast majority were old now, but some, the ones inflicted by the Storm Wolves, still showed an angry red. Krion watched as Alecto’s eyes traced the patchwork of thin and faded lio where they overpped with thick, gnarled ridges of the more brutal injuries he had barely survived weeks ago.

  Aleouth tightened. “You’ve had… quite the hard life, haven’t you.” His previously almost gruff voice softened by something almost akin to respect. His hands hovered for a moment before resuming their work. “A bit young for so many stories written on your skin.”

  The Sentinel, still and silent as ever, didn’t speak, but her stance shifted imperceptibly. Her white mask gave nothing away, but the slight tilt of her head suggested she was studying him. Perhaps reassessing.

  Krion stiffened uheir scrutiny, his fists g at his now bare sides. He avoided their eyes. “It’s nothing,” he said quietly, his voice steady but tinged with disfort.

  “Nothing?” Alecto’s voice turned wry, though not unkind. “Young lord, you have more scars on one of your arms than every other first-year noble I fitted for school uniforms this year. That is not nothing.”

  The Sentinel’s gaze lingered a moment longer before they resumed their silent vigil. Despite their silence, Krion suspected that all their attention was still fixed upon him.

  “Very well,” Alecto said, raising the needle high above his head. “Let’s begin.”

  hreads of light appeared above and around Krion, though these were the color of the bckest night. They began to swirl around him, seeming to measure as they did so. As the threads tiheir work, Kiron marveled as they began to form a translut image of a school uniform around him. The lines sharpened, detailing what Krion assumed to be the distinct features of the Imperial Academy attire: a silk undershirt beh a high-colred coat with silver trim, a modified emblem depig the crest of his house set into a shield under a triple embroidered on his shoulders. Below the coat, fiailored trousers and polished boots took shape.

  Alemed to himself as he adjusted the fit with precise gestures. Each wave of his hand and the needle smoothed an invisible wriightehe cuffs, or altered the coat’s length until he was satisfied.

  “Funal, elegant, and durable,” Aleuttered as if speaking to himself. “Only the best for those attending the Imperial Academy.”

  Finally, with a flourish, Alecto cpped his hands, and the bck threads solidified. The fabric shimmered into being, casg over Krion’s shoulders and down his form like water. The uniform fit perfectly as if it had always been his.

  “Done, done,” Alecto said, leaning bad iing his work with a critical eye. He nodded in clear satisfa. “That’ll do for now. Just try not to bleed all over this one.”

  Running his hands up and down his sides, Krion could say with absolute certainty what Alecto had just created for him were the fi and most fortable clothes he had ever owned. Give and feel, this uniform would likely go for many thousands of dolrs ba Volksturm oh.

  Alecto opehe door and stepped back out to the hallway. The Seepped to the side, allowing Krion to leave the room first. They ined their head to him slightly, as if to aowledge the transformation. As he moved to follow Alecto back dowairs to the front of the shop, Krion had to admit that he felt like airely new man.

  I hope you enjoyed Krion's first experiences with nobles and the Imperial Academy! Now for the obligatory stuff!

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