-Year 7335, Decatry Island – Road to Dennis Decatry Port-
The castle fell behind, swallowed by the morning mist. The cart creaked at every stone on the road, rattling my bones. Mira sat on my lap, her eyes wide as she watched the trees and the birds.
Ander Féris had said goodbye to us in the courtyard. A dry handshake, a pouch of coins, a sealed scroll.
"A letter of recommendation," he had said. "Don't disappoint me, boy."
I tucked the scroll into my tunic.
"I won't, my lord."
He looked at Mira.
"Take care of her."
"I will."
Now, in the cart, Mira looked at me.
"Zirinos? Are we going to a boat?"
"We are."
"Do I like boats?"
"You don't know. You've never been on one."
"Then I will like it."
I smiled. Did the lie hurt? No. Nothing hurt. Nothing had hurt for a long time.
---
The road descended toward the sea. The smell of salt and wet wood announced the port before we saw it. Then the first buildings appeared: warehouses, taverns, low houses. Many were still in ruins.
Krakeriar had not been merciful.
Workers were raising new walls elsewhere. Carpenters sawed planks. Ducal soldiers watched the entrances, their blue armour gleaming in the weak sun. The smell of smoke mixed with the smell of the sea.
"Was that the monster?" Mira asked.
"It was."
"Are you stronger than it?"
"I am smarter. Brute force always loses to cunning."
She didn't understand, but nodded anyway.
---
The makeshift pier was a long platform of new wood, resting on empty barrels. Two ships were anchored: a cargo vessel with brown sails, and a larger one painted blue and gold. The Decatry crest — the white tiger with blue stripes — gleamed on the prow.
The boat to the academy.
The other young nobles had already left days ago. The Eladirs, the Lunos, Princess Livia, Néris Truid — all had set sail after the meeting at the castle. I had stayed behind, because of the documents, because of Mira, because of Ander.
It didn't matter. Arriving late had its advantages too. The first to arrive were the first to be noticed. I preferred the shadows.
Now, on the pier, only a few students waited. People from minor families, perhaps scholarship students. Boys and girls in simple clothes, accompanied by aged parents or servants.
None of them particularly interested me.
"Who are those people?" Mira asked.
"Future classmates."
"Are there many?"
"Few. The others have already left."
"Why didn't we go?"
"Because I wanted to wait."
She didn't understand. She didn't need to.
---
A functionary in blue robes approached me. Thin, grey-bearded, tired eyes.
"Are you a student?"
"Squire. Zirinos, in the service of Baron Ander Féris."
"Documents?"
I handed over the scroll. He read, nodded, returned it.
"The academy awaits you, boy. The boat leaves in an hour."
He walked away.
I sat on a wooden bench, Mira on my lap. She looked at the boats, the seagulls, the workers rebuilding the destroyed warehouse.
She fell asleep within minutes. The tiredness of the journey and the weak warmth of the sun closed her eyes.
---
I watched the other students.
A girl with red braids, fragile, her eyes on the ground. Beside her, a dark-haired boy with round glasses, a thick book in his hand. Further away, a group of three – two boys and a girl – shared bread and laughed at something.
Peasants, perhaps. Merchants. People without noble blood.
They did not interest me.
Mira slept. The boat did not leave.
Time passed. The sun rose in the sky. The sea breeze brought the smell of fish and tar.
---
A murmur ran through the pier.
I looked at the road. A carriage approached, pulled by two dark horses. It was modest, dark wood, no crests.
The carriage stopped. A grey-haired woman descended, helped a red-haired girl in simple clothes down. Two more young people behind – a thin boy with glasses, a girl with braids.
The blue-robed functionary received their documents. Nodded. The young people went to the pier, mingling with the others.
"Zirinos?" Mira stirred on my lap, drowsy.
"Sleep, little one."
"Are we going yet?"
"Not yet. Wait."
"I'm hungry."
I took a piece of dry bread from my pocket. She bit, chewed slowly, fell asleep again.
I looked at the blue and gold boat. At the furled sails. At the calm sea.
The Decatrys had already left days ago. Ana, Sara, Ariny. And Macano's chosen, Ethan. I had seen them from afar on that first day on the island. He with purple hair, they with light and dark hair. We had not exchanged words. There was no need.
Now they were at the academy, probably already settled in the dormitories.
I was arriving late. It didn't matter. The latecomer sees what the hurried miss.
---
Another carriage approached.
Larger. Darker. Tinted windows. A crest on the door – the black octopus of Graylor.
Morgana Graylor descended first. The countess with dark blue hair, cold eyes. Behind her, a light-haired girl with timid eyes. A niece, perhaps. A distant relative.
Kamia Graylor, married to Lirius Remadís, also descended. She stood beside her sister, spoke quietly, then got back into the carriage and left.
Only the light-haired girl remained. Distant relative. New student. Unimportant.
Morgana looked at me. Her eyes ran over my face, my hair, the girl sleeping on my lap. Then she looked away. She said nothing. She never said anything.
"Zirinos?" Mira opened her eyes.
"Sleep."
"Have the others arrived?"
"The others have already left. We are the last."
"Is it good to be the last?"
"Sometimes. You see what others don't."
She didn't understand. She smiled anyway.
---
The sun began to descend. The sky turned orange. The blue-robed functionary called the students.
"Onto the boat! We leave within minutes!"
I stood, Mira on my lap. She was no longer asleep, but kept her arms around my neck.
"Let's go, little one."
"Are we going to the academy?"
"We are."
"Mummy used to say the academy was a place for important people."
"Your mother was right."
The lie came out smoothly, like all the ones I told about Lysara.
Mira tightened her arms around my neck.
"Are you important, Zirinos?"
"Not yet. But I will be."
I walked toward the boat. The other students climbed the gangplank, their belongings on their backs or carried by servants. The functionary counted heads.
"How many are missing?" someone asked.
"None. The Decatrys left days ago. These are the last."
We boarded.
The boat creaked. The sails rose. The wind filled the cloth.
Mira looked back at the pier receding into the distance.
"Zirinos? Will we ever come back?"
"Perhaps. When you are strong."
"And are you strong?"
"I am."
"Then will you protect me?"
"I will."
The lie was sweet. She smiled.
The sea opened before us. The Derylini peninsula waited.
The game was beginning.