Where am I?
The telltale sounds of murmuring voices halted as I rebounded off the wood to fall to the ground, my naked ass squeaking against the polished stone.
The door wrenched open suddenly to reveal a man as dark as the General who rescued me from the streets. I yelped in fright, scrambling back as far as I could, apologies falling from my tongue.
The man sighed before reaching out and grabbing me by the arm, pulling me into the room before sealing it once more.
Inside was a large office with a singular window. I itched to run to it and see where in the gods’ names I was, but I resisted. Because my gaze was instantly drawn to the two people in the room—the man grasping my arm in a punishing grip and another who was so pale his skin was nearly translucent.
The expression of the man in white held no distinguishing emotions, his face carefully blank. While the man in black to his right wore something akin to shock and unbridled curiosity.
I quickly catalogued their outfits, noting that the man in white wore a loose dress with a matching utility belt. The other man, however, wore matching black pants and tunic. My eyes were immediately drawn to his shoulders, where three gold bars rested.
Lord d’Refan.
My face paled as all the blood drained in fear. I quickly moved my hands to cover my nakedness as much as possible. A smile quirked on Lord d’Refan’s lips, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
“Ah, there he is. Right on time.” The willowy man in white spoke with an airy confidence that had goosebumps erupting on my skin.
“You are certain?” The question was barked from Lord d’Refan, and I averted his unnerving gaze. His eyes were brown, so deep they were almost black, and they shook every few seconds.
The man in white nodded curtly. “This is Lex.”
A smile spread across Lord d’Refan’s face.
“I told you he would come,” the man in white said. “Now all that’s left is what to do with him.”
Fuck.
Chapter 4
Lex
Various scrapes and clinks echoed throughout the mess hall as hundreds of soldiers, like myself, scooped the last remnants of a hearty stew from wooden bowls. The soft buzz of conversation lilted throughout, as men and women alike finished their food and indulged in a few moments of rest before the bell sounded and we were ushered into our next task.
Everything ran on an intricate, yet efficient, system of bells and colored lights. The bells all chimed at certain points throughout the day, indicating when it was time for meals, training, strategy, and bed. Even our bathing times were strictly regimented and paced.
I’d never seen anything like it until I found myself part of Lord d’Refan’s army. The timing mechanism was a combination of science and magical engineering, according to the General, and, when I first arrived, I spent ages simply gawking at the plethora of conveniences and inventions that helped the heart of Vespera move smoothly and efficiently.
The first time I found myself in the mess hall, I spent the entire time watching the colored light full of magic change froma bright pulsating blue to a deep golden-yellow, the color of the sun, to, finally, a blood-red.
For a kid who grew up in the slums and a pleasure house, it was fascinating.
Of course, as soon as the light bled to red, a chime sounded—loud enough to startle me from my staring and cause my spoon to clatter to the table—and the soldiers in the mess hall seemed to move as one. Conversation halted as hundreds of Mages and Vessels stood together, gathered their empty bowls and used spoons, and moved to drop them in empty barrels that lined the doors to the rest of the Academy.
Apparently, I was supposed to eat my entire meal during that time frame andnotspend it idly watching colors flicker in a suspended glass orb.
Who knew.
After returning my full bowl to a barrel and receiving a rather scathing look from the cook, I never made the mistake again. Moving through training was difficult enough, but it was nearly impossible on a completely empty stomach.
I think I passed out that day.
Or it was the day after.
The days blended together the longer I was here, but it wasn’t something that was abjectly terrible. The routine simply took all the guesswork out of the day and allowed our minds to focus on what we were at the Academy for—training to one day serve in Lord d’Refan’s army.
Relations were peaceful in Elyria, at least to my limited knowledge, and the amassing of a large and trained force of Mages seemed a bit unnecessary.
