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Chapter Fifty-Two: The First Lecture
A new day began with the first rays of sunlight slipping through the gray clouds, shyly caressing the small windowpanes of the student lodgings. The air was slightly cold, filling the room with a light dampness that eased the chest, while the scattered chirping of birds in the nearby trees mingled with the echo of footsteps moving about. Suddenly, that quiet scene was pierced by a sharp bell ringing below, clanging through the stone corridors like a hammer striking iron.
That bell was a familiar summons to all who lived here: a forced awakening administered by the guards each morning. It was not born of kindness or mercy, but a paid service deducted by the supervisors from every youth at month's end.
Daniel opened his eyes with reluctance, glanced sullenly at his roommate, then turned his gaze away as if afraid he might be poisoned by the very sight of him. (Now… every morning I must wake and see that vile face? What curse cast me here!) He sighed and ran his hand through his messy hair.
His roommate did not content himself with silent thought; he spoke aloud in a sharp voice: "Dammit, this is the worst day of my life! That the first face I see when I wake is a filthy commoner!"
A deliberate coolness crossed Daniel's features; he ignored the words as though they had not reached his ears. He rose in hurried steps, opened his small trunk beside the bed, and began to pack his things quickly. The clatter of metal and the hurried stacking of books filled the cramped room. He grabbed his leather satchel, closed it with nervous hands, and stepped out, his features tense as if the very room suffocated him.
He had to make it to the scheduled lecture on mana in the central complex. It was a notable lecture, repeated every day this week. The organization was necessary—one person could not teach three thousand students at once. Yet Daniel, having registered in every department, was now forced to maintain a strict schedule to accommodate overlapping lecture times. Other departments—Alchemy, Blacksmithing, Creature Studies—had fewer students and thus fewer sessions: Alchemy five days a week, Blacksmithing two, Creature Studies one. Magic, however, was different—crowded and pressured. That meant Daniel had to attend this very lecture today, lest he miss sessions in the other departments.
Minutes later he stood before the grand complex's gate. It rose proudly, its massive wooden doors studded with gleaming bronze nails. He lifted his head to admire the enormous structure, then hurried up the wide steps of polished white marble that gleamed under the sun. The air above felt purer, as if the building's majesty even cleansed the surrounding atmosphere.
He left the main stairway and went down a wide side corridor, map folded in his hand, checking it intermittently to ensure he was heading the right way. The corridor was carpeted in dark blue, superbly ornate: stone columns carved with geometric patterns, great chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, twinkling with crystal motes instead of candles. (My God… this place is almost like my old world—if only the electrical devices and machines I know were here, I'd think this a lecture hall from my former life.)
He finally reached a heavy door bearing a wooden sign carved with "Hall One." Pushing it open, he was met with a scene alive with motion. The hall was nearly full; students spoke in overlapping voices.
Daniel muttered to himself as he exhaled: (Lucky me… the best hall hasn't been closed yet.) He had heard that the master teaching in this hall was the academy's finest in this field.
He moved toward the back and found an empty wooden seat. The chairs were made of dark wood—sturdy but not particularly comfortable—as if designed for discipline more than ease.
He sat and scanned the room, thinking inwardly: (Those who transferred before me made obvious changes here… but it seems the director and teachers benefited from these restrictions only for themselves and their interests—places and tools. This is true injustice.)
Two minutes had hardly passed when the noble who shared his room strode in with an air of arrogance, as if the very ground bowed to him. Their eyes met briefly; Daniel quickly diverted his gaze, clenching his fist slightly.
Within minutes the hall was full. The number approached two hundred students, a mixture of faces: nobles in fine garments studded with silver and gold, and commons in simpler attire. Everyone's eyes sought the crests of the five famed houses—their students were stars among the crowd.
As the lecture time neared, latecomers kept pouring in. Some, finding the hall packed, turned away in despair to rush to another hall. Only commoners were forced to do that; if a noble arrived, someone would stand immediately and make room as if it were a given, then hurry to find a seat elsewhere.
Daniel watched the scene with narrowed eyes, his heart swelling with a mix of anger and pity. (These nobles must threaten the innocent with blows to their families and futures… just like what happened to me yesterday.)
The commotion subsided until only two commoners remained in the hall… Daniel and another unknown figure sitting far in the corner.
Thorin, the arrogant noble and Daniel's roommate, sat back in his chair as if he owned the room. His eyes lazily swept the students, dispensing condescending glances left and right. The room still buzzed with overlapping chatter and muffled laughter, the air heavy with expensive perfumes from the nobles' garments mingled with the scent of old wood from the benches.
Two students who had been with Thorin the previous day arrived late, their footsteps making a soft clatter on the stone floor. Two commons seated in the side rows rose at once and relinquished their places without hesitation, fearful of confrontation, so the two nobles sat beside Thorin. One of them offered a sideways, mocking smile and said: "It seems you came early today, Thorin."
Thorin raised an eyebrow in disdain and replied coldly: "And why do you say that?"
The man pointed toward the back rows where Daniel sat and said with a hint: "Look… even the one who shares your room is here now; he beat you to it."
Thorin trembled inwardly for a brief moment, then masked his unease with a superior smile and said: "I let him sit here only because I am generous, nothing more."
The other laughed scornfully, and the second added, waving his hand as if offended by a scent: "And why would you do that, man?! He will pollute the air with a commoner's presence. You should throw him out now."
Thorin drew a deep breath, lifted his shoulders in feigned confidence, then gestured toward another common student and said: "I know him… but the air is already tainted, look there—that other commoner. I don't know why someone allowed him to sit here! I suppose he's simply ignorant of the rules. When I found him here, I let my servant sit because I will need him after the lecture."
The first one chuckled and said: "Damn that! Why don't things always go our way? Listen, Thorin, it's late now—don't let your servant sit among us again. As for that fool… I'll make him my servant, sooner or later."
The second agreed with a laugh: "Yes, that's best. I don't understand why the academy doesn't let us bring our real servants from home. These commons are terrible at service; they always make mistakes!"
The first nodded in agreement with a malicious smile: "Yes, yes, that's right."
Thorin also nodded, but his eyes betrayed anxious glances at Daniel. Thoughts churned inside him: (Damn that commoner… why isn't he afraid of my family's name? Doesn't he have relatives outside? Maybe he's from the poor quarters… that's worse than a commoner! But… no, impossible. He wouldn't enter the academy or register in all departments if he were. I saw all his badges yesterday… he must belong to a wealthy family. So… why doesn't he fear me? Damn him!)
At that moment the door opened and another noble entered late, his face irritated that he had not arrived first. He scanned the hall, his eyes searching every student carefully. The moment his gaze fell upon Daniel and Bran, his brows knit.
He strode forward swiftly and stood before Bran—the one nearest him, who had taken on Lioran's appearance—and said with contempt: "Come on, you filthy thing, go find a seat in another hall."