The Garden Of?
Chapter 16:
Way to the Royal academy
The streets didn't quiet down as I made my way toward the eastern side of the capital. If anything, the further I went, the more the city revealed its layers—like a book opening to pages I'd never imagined existed. Every turn, every step, pulled me deeper into this massive world.
I had only gone a little further when the clamor of armor and the sound of boots marching in unison caught my ear. The noise rolled like thunder through the crowd, forcing everyone to instinctively part ways. I stopped dead in my tracks, caught between fascination and caution.
Down the avenue, a squad of the Royal Order made its way toward the palace. Their armor gleamed like polished silver, reflecting the late afternoon light in blinding flashes. Every soldier carried themselves with rigid discipline, spears and swords held at precise angles, their banners unfurling proudly overhead.
At the center of the formation marched a figure in a uniform I didn't recognize at first—a darker shade of blue, trimmed with golden edges, far more elaborate than the others. Then it struck me.
The Defense Force uniform.
Back in Tern Village, I'd heard stories about them: the elite division trained to protect the royal family and crush threats before they could even rise. They weren't just soldiers; they were the kingdom's wall of steel and fire. The man wearing it carried his blade with such ease that it almost seemed part of his body. His gaze swept the crowd like he already knew every danger before it could unfold.
A shiver ran down my spine. I quickly lowered my head, not wanting to attract attention. I knew I would be in trouble that if they noticed my hidden Aether which I was hiding.
The squad passed, and the people bowed respectfully, murmuring prayers and praises. My fists tightened at my side, conflicted. Part of me admired them—the strength, the discipline, the way they moved like one unstoppable force. But another part of me bristled. Strength like that wasn't meant to only protect. It was also used to control. And I'd already had enough of being reminded of "my place" today.
Shaking the thought away, I continued.
Not far ahead, the atmosphere shifted from tense respect to lively noise. A street gathering had formed around a wide square, music spilling into the air. I followed the sound until I saw a group of performers putting on a show.
A man in a bright red tunic balanced on a rope stretched between two poles, tossing knives into the air as though he had no fear of missing. Gasps and cheers erupted when he caught them flawlessly. A woman beside him sang in a lilting voice, accompanied by a fiddler whose bow danced faster than my eyes could follow. Children clapped and shouted, trying to mimic the acrobatics, while adults threw coins into a wooden bucket placed at the edge of the square.
For a moment, I just stood there, watching. The laughter, the cheers, the way people forgot their troubles to live in that one instant—it made me ache a little inside. Tern Village never had this kind of vibrancy. Life there was quiet, simple, safe… but maybe too safe. Here, in the capital, it was as though the entire world pulsed with energy.
Still, I couldn't linger too long. My destination lay ahead, and if I wasn't careful, the sun would set before I even reached the Academy.
As I turned down another street, I noticed groups of people around my own age—boys and girls, some wearing cloaks, others with books strapped to their belts, walking together in twos and threes. They looked excited, nervous, and proud all at once.
Future Academy students, I thought.
For a second, I almost wanted to approach them, to ask questions or even just walk beside them. But the thought of drawing more attention after today's mess made me stiffen. I tugged my cloak tighter.
Not today. I've already been in too much trouble.
Instead, I kept my distance, letting them chatter away, their laughter echoing faintly behind me.
The walk dragged on longer than I expected. No matter how many streets I crossed, the Academy still seemed far away, hidden behind the maze of this massive city. My feet ached, and the map I'd bought earlier had started to crease from how many times I unfolded and folded it again.
That was when I spotted a row of carriages near a square, each marked with the same crest: a wheel with wings. Rental rides.
I hesitated. Spending money on comfort wasn't something I was used to. But then again, trudging for hours across the capital wasn't exactly smart either. With a sigh, I approached one of the drivers, a stout man with a weathered face and kind eyes.
"East side, Royal Academy," I said.
"Hop in, lad," he replied, tugging on the reins. "Long ride, but the horses'll get you there quicker than your feet."
I climbed into the carriage, settling into the cushioned seat. It felt strange—too soft, too proper. I wasn't used to it. But when the carriage lurched forward and the streets began to roll by in a blur, I allowed myself to lean back and watch.
For the next few hours, I saw the capital in ways walking would never have shown me. Wide bridges stretched across canals where boats drifted lazily. Statues of past kings stood tall in open courtyards, their stone faces carved with pride and power. Market squares spread like living oceans, filled with stalls bursting with fabrics, spices, and trinkets I couldn't even name.
Children ran through fountains, their laughter mixing with the clatter of hooves and the constant hum of voices. Lanterns were being strung between buildings, preparing the city for the night ahead. The air smelled of roasted chestnuts and sweet honey bread, mixing with the tang of horse sweat and the faint metallic scent of forge fires.
It was overwhelming—and beautiful.
Eventually, the driver pointed ahead, his voice breaking my daze. "There it is, lad. The Royal Academy."
I leaned forward. My breath caught.
The Academy wasn't just big—it was colossal. The walls alone loomed at least ten meters high, built of pale stone that shimmered faintly as though infused with magic. Spires rose above the walls, their tips reaching toward the heavens, crowned with banners carrying the royal crest. The gates were wide enough for three carriages to pass through at once, carved with intricate patterns of phoenixes and swords intertwined.
But all of that faded for a moment when I saw the carriage parked at the entrance.
Its frame was black and gold, carved with patterns of vines that curled around a blazing phoenix. The emblem was unmistakable.
My stomach dropped.
The duke's family. The eldest daughter's carriage.
Cold sweat prickled the back of my neck. Of all the rotten luck…
"Is she… also attending the Academy?" I whispered under my breath.
Memories of earlier—soldiers grabbing my collar, the crowd staring, Reilia dragging me away—flashed before my eyes. If I made another mistake here, if I so much as looked the wrong way, it wouldn't just be humiliation waiting for me. It could mean expulsion before I even began.
"Shit," I muttered. "I better not get into trouble again…"
Still, my feet moved forward, almost against my will.
The closer I got, the smaller I felt. The walls towered above me, their shadows swallowing the road, their scale reminding me just how small a boy from Tern Village really was. My chest tightened, but I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stand tall.
This was it. The Academy—the place that would shape my future.
I took a step toward the gate.