It was the crisp morning of the 27th of March, a day Alden had long awaited. Only one day remained before the start of a new life—one he had worked tirelessly toward. But to reach the Royal Academy of Ironhold in time, he had to leave today.
Packing his travel bag with essentials and carefully wrapping his sword in cloth, Alden bid his goodbyes to Rowan. The old man stood by the gate, smiling, yet with a mist of emotion clouding his eyes. "You carry my dreams with you now," he said, placing a firm hand on Alden's shoulder.
"I won't let you down, Grandpa," Alden replied, gripping him in a tight hug before turning to begin his journey.
By midday, Alden reached Bloodridge City. The bustling city greeted him with familiar scents and the clamor of activity, but he had little time to dwell in nostalgia. His train to the academy capital was scheduled to leave in the evening. With hours to spare, Alden stopped by the inn where he had stayed during the exams.
"Leaving already?" the innkeeper asked with a wide grin.
"Yeah," Alden replied. "Just wanted to say thank you for the food and shelter."
"Bah! You earned it. Go make us proud."
Alden spent the next hour gathering travel food and some fruit from the market before heading to the train station. He held his ticket tightly, eyes wide at the massive 14-coach train standing at the platform. The first coach, adorned with intricate gold patterns, was obviously reserved for nobles. Alden couldn't help but wonder if the other top examinees—Veydan, Avan, or Lysa—were onboard.
The train, a fusion of magic and engineering, hissed and pulsed with arcane energy. At precisely four o'clock, it began its journey with a smooth, majestic start. Inside, Alden settled into his seat and pulled out a worn book from his bag titled Aether for Swordsmanship. The rhythmic movement of the train made him drowsy, and before long, he drifted into a deep sleep.
Hours passed. When Alden awoke, it was nearly 2 a.m. The train, now mostly empty, was gliding through the final stretch of its journey. At last, it arrived at the Ironhold Royal Capital. He stepped off the train, looking around the dimly lit platform. To his right, a group of finely dressed youths disembarked from the noble coach. Alden recognized Veydan among them.
With a sigh, he sat on the steps of the platform, scanning the street for a taxi. Most vehicles were already gone. The only one in sight was a lavish black carriage, its body adorned with the sigil of House Bloodridge. Clearly not a public ride.
To Alden's surprise, the door of the carriage opened and out stepped Veydan himself. "Waiting for a ride?" he asked casually.
Alden nodded. "Seems all the taxis are gone."
"Come on, I'll give you a lift."
Alden hesitated but saw no other option. "Thank you," he muttered and climbed in.
For a while, the ride was silent. Then Veydan broke the quiet. "So, where are you from?"
"Bloodridge town."
"You did well in the exams. Not many reach the eighth round."
"Not as well as you," Alden replied modestly.
"Who trained you? Your father in the army?"
"No," Alden said. "Just my grandpa. He was a four-star soldier once."
"Impressive. He must be a great teacher."
Alden smiled faintly. "He is."
They chatted briefly after that, mostly about sword techniques and the upcoming academy life. After a few hours, the majestic silhouette of the Royal Academy came into view.
"Looks like we're here," Veydan said. "See you in class, Alden."
"Yeah. See you."
Alden climbed out of the carriage, watching as a butler came around to take Veydan's belongings. Turning away, Alden approached the grand gate, producing his admission form to the guards stationed there.
"Welcome to the Royal Academy of Ironhold," one of them said, verifying his credentials. A moment later, a student guide appeared.
"Follow me," the guide said.
The path to the dormitories wound through a campus that, even in darkness, radiated awe. Huge towers, arched walkways, and spell-lit courtyards hinted at the grandeur of the academy. After a ten-minute walk, they reached the dormitory building. The guide gestured to the lift.
"Boys' quarters start from the fourth floor. You're on the fifth. Room 512, at the far end."
The lift doors opened with a whisper, and they ascended. The hallway on the fifth floor was quiet, with polished wooden floors and soft lighting. The guide tapped a panel next to Alden's room. A soft pulse scanned Alden, and the door unlocked with a chime.
Alden stepped inside and gasped. The room was beyond anything he had imagined. It had a spacious bed with silk sheets, a study corner with shelves already stocked with books, a private bathing area, and even a small balcony.
"The mess is on the first floor," the guide informed him. "You can go anytime; it's open 24/7 this week. Also, there will be a short welcome briefing this afternoon with your dorm warden. Attendance is mandatory."
Alden nodded, barely listening, his mind still lost in the room's grandeur.
"Goodnight," the guide said and left.
Alden closed the door, set his bag down, and without another thought, jumped onto the bed. The softness was unlike anything he had ever experienced. A sense of peace washed over him as sleep claimed him.
He had arrived.