The lock clicked into place behind Captain Henrik, leaving Aeon alone in what would be his home for the next four months. He stood motionless for several seconds, listening to the retreating footsteps fade down the hallway, before allowing himself to truly examine his new accommodations.
The apartment was modest but well-appointed, a significant improvement over the cramped healer's room where he had spent his first week in Millhaven. The main room served as both sitting area and workspace, with a sturdy wooden desk positioned beneath the single window to take advantage of natural light. The chair was simple but comfortable, the kind of practical furniture that suggested function over form.
A doorway led to the sleeping area, where a single bed with clean linens occupied most of the space. The mattress looked infinitely more appealing than the straw pallets he remembered from the slave camp, and the woolen blanket folded at its foot spoke to a level of comfort he had almost forgotten was possible.
The walls were plastered and painted in a warm cream color that made the rooms feel larger than they actually were. A small fireplace dominated one corner of the main room, with a neat stack of split wood beside it suggesting he wouldn't be left to freeze during the colder months. Basic necessities had been provided—a water basin, towels, a change of clothes in roughly his size, and even a few books stacked on the desk.
They're treating me like a guest rather than a prisoner, Aeon observed. Comfortable enough to keep me cooperative, but not so luxurious as to suggest permanent residence.
The window offered a clear view of the village's main square, where late afternoon activities were winding down as people prepared for evening meals. Children played between the market stalls while their parents conducted final business, and guards maintained their discrete but visible presence at key positions throughout the area.
Perfect for observation in both directions, he noted with professional appreciation. I can watch the village's daily rhythms, and they can monitor my activities. Elegant surveillance disguised as hospitality.
But it was Captain Henrik's emotional state during their conversation that had proven most informative. The man's professional demeanor had been flawless, but Aeon had learned to read the subtle signs that revealed true feelings beneath surface politeness.
Fear. Not of him specifically, but of what his presence represented. Henrik was a protector by nature and training, and Aeon's arrival had introduced variables that the captain couldn't control or predict. The man's tension had been palpable whenever he mentioned the village's children or safety protocols—a father's concern overlaying a soldier's duty.
He thinks the elders made a mistake, Aeon realized. He's bound by honor to follow orders, but every instinct he possesses is screaming that I'm a threat to his family and community.
The insight was both useful and oddly touching. Henrik's fear wasn't rooted in malice or prejudice, but in genuine love for the people under his protection. It was the kind of pure motivation that Aeon could respect, even if it cast him in the role of potential enemy.
At least he's honest about it. Better to know where I stand than deal with false friendliness hiding ulterior motives.
But it was Henrik's final announcement that had truly captured Aeon's attention, bringing with it a surge of amusement that he had struggled to keep from showing on his face.
School. They're sending me to school.
The irony was delicious. In his previous life, he had possessed advanced degrees, professional certifications, and decades of experience in complex fields. He had commanded respect in boardrooms and lecture halls, had been sought out for his expertise and judgment.
And now he was going to sit in a classroom learning basic reading and writing alongside children who were probably a quarter of his mental age.
From corporate executive to elementary student, he thought with genuine humor. If this isn't the ultimate humbling experience, I don't know what is.
But beneath the amusement lay something far more valuable: excitement.
This was exactly what he needed. Formal education in this world's systems, language, history, and customs. Direct observation of how magic was taught and developed. Access to knowledge that could prove crucial for his survival once he was exiled from Millhaven's protection.
Four months of intensive learning, he mused, settling into the desk chair and looking out at the peaceful village square. No immediate threats, no desperate survival situations, just the opportunity to understand this world properly for the first time since arriving.
The classes with newly awakened children were particularly intriguing. Watching how others learned to control their attributes might provide insights into his own abilities, and the social dynamics of children often revealed information that adults kept carefully hidden.
Plus, I'll finally get to observe this society's power structure from the ground up. How they identify talent, how they train the next generation, what values they prioritize in education.
Aeon pulled one of the books from the desk stack—a basic primer on written language, from the look of it—and flipped through the pages with growing anticipation. The script was familiar enough from his time observing documents in the slave camp, but having the opportunity to study it systematically was a luxury he hadn't expected.
Tomorrow I become a student again, he thought as he closed the book and moved toward the sleeping area. Time to see what this world considers essential knowledge for its children.
The bed was even more comfortable than it had looked, and for the first time in weeks, Aeon felt himself truly relaxing. The mana oath was a weight on his consciousness, but not an unbearable one. His quarters were secure and pleasant. His immediate future, while temporary, offered opportunities for growth and preparation.
Four months to learn everything I can about surviving in this world, he thought as sleep began to claim him. Four months to understand my abilities and figure out what kind of person I want to be in this life.
And it all starts with going back to school.
Despite everything—the slavery, the violence, the uncertainty of his future—Aeon fell asleep with something that felt remarkably like anticipation warming his chest.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for the first time since awakening in this world, they would be challenges he could face without fear of immediate death.
It was, he reflected drowsily, a significant improvement in his circumstances.
And he intended to make the most of every opportunity it offered.