After Rowena lightly shook him awake, Thorsten reluctantly parted from his bed as the maids led his still drowsy self out of the room.
But just as he was about to step out of the door, he found himself pausing mid step to turn and face the large, open windows.
Thorsten squinted his blue eyes as the sun's morning rays beamed onto his small face, burning with it any lingering drowsiness and pulling his consciousness from its lethargy.
He slowly blinked with his gaze fixed outside the window, letting his eyes adjust to the light as last night's conversation with his father surfaced in his mind.
'They're probably gone by now,' He thought to himself, spending a moment longer staring at the clear sky before silently turning to following the maids for his bath.
It still felt odd to him to have other people wash his body, but he had become accustomed to the process rather quickly.
It still felt somewhat strange having others wash him, though he had adapted to the process far quicker than he had expected.
The maids worked with an efficiency that only came from routine, carefully washing away the dirt and grime gathered throughout the day while taking care not to make the process uncomfortable for him.
What had surprised him most, however, was how differently each maid approached the same task.
Some used firmer movements while scrubbing his arms and shoulders, while others were gentler, their touch lighter and more deliberate.
Even the way they washed his hair varied; some massaged shampoo into his scalp with slow circular motions, while others worked more methodically, focusing on speed and precision.
He had also noticed that each of them followed their own order when rinsing him clean. Some started from his hair and worked downward, while others cleaned his limbs first before returning to the rest of his body.
Even the soaps carried subtle differences in scent. Some were sharper and herbal, while others carried softer floral fragrances that lingered faintly in the steam-filled air.
Altogether, the experience often left him feeling less like a person and more like a porcelain sculpture that had been carefully cleaned and polished.
And perhaps because of that, what had once felt awkward had gradually become just another part of his daily routine that he found himself quietly observing.
Not that he was complaining, considering he started each morning receiving with what was essentially a full-body massage.
'… Not that I've ever had one.'
________
It was only after Thorsten had been properly dressed and his hair neatly combed that he was released by the maids, returning to him autonomy over his own body.
Even if watching them work had started off interesting, he still found himself questioning whether such meticulous grooming all that necessary when the only people would be seeing him were his family and the palace servants.
And while the importance of it still alluded him somewhat, it was likely one of those expectations that had long since become inseparable from noble life.
'Well, it's probably tied to noble etiquette or appearance.'
With his mind occupied with miscellaneous thoughts about what nobles valued, he ate another spoonful of his breakfast.
Today, the normally delicious meals seemed to lose a bit of their flavour as he ate in the company of the otherwise silent dining room.
*****
On the Baylith palaces second floor, warm sunlight beamed though the high windows, illuminating the sparse motes of dust floating in the space between.
Two figures were in the room, the first with a textbook in one hand and a worn stick of chalk in the other, the sound of him scribbling on the blackboard echoing through the room.
"—Then multiply to cancel out the denominator on both…"
The other, smaller, figure was half-listening to the explanation, one hand absentmindedly rolling the beads of his abacus.
His gaze lingered on the blackboard without truly focusing on it, memories of his time attending school on Earth gradually surfacing in his mind.
There had been good moments, of course; the meaningless conversations before class, the quiet amusement found in trivial things, the strange comfort that came with simply being another student among many.
But those memories were followed just as quickly by others.
Of the long, dry lessons spectated by a classroom of barely interested students sitting through explanations that entered one ear and flew out the other; everyone silently enduring the process while waiting for the bell that signalled their freedom.
Thinking back on it now, he realised that learning itself had never truly been the problem.
What made the time spent in class feel arduous was the repetition, structure, and the tedious process of sitting through hours of information he couldn't be bothered to care about.
There were times where he had been fully engaged and willing to learn, but those were overshadowed by the lessons that felt like he was watching paint dry.
And unfortunately, some of his current lessons were beginning to feel much the same.
It's not like the contents were not interesting, it was just that he was still being limited to what his tutors were keeping at an appropriate level for a 10-year-old to learn—which made it hard to find anything challenging enough to maintain his interest.
Sure, it meant that everything was going to be easier from an academic standpoint, but this also placed a clear cap on what information and knowledge he would have access to during his lessons.
This wouldn't be as much of a problem as it was if these lessons did not take up so much of his time, which meant that he'd have to manage the time both between and after them that he could use for himself.
He sighed internally, realising that he had underestimated the value nobles had placed on educating their scions.
"—That'll be all for today." Mr. Klein voice reached him, indicating at the sums written out on the blackboard before continuing.
"Please complete the questions on this page and read the appropriate notes before our next lesson."
Thorsten's response was stiff and formal.
"Your formal assessment will cover everything up until this point, so be prepared."
"Yes, sir." He said, having already worked out three quarters of the answers before Mr. Klein had fully left the room.
When his steps could no longer be heard, Thorsten let out a tired sigh before muttering to himself, "What a drag."
His carefully controlled expression loosening into a flat, disinterested face as he forced himself to write down the questions.
Maybe it was because he was still going through all the easy stuff, but his math's lessons felt particularly suffocating to sit through when compared to the rest.
But there was a limit to the level of comprehension he was willing to show, which meant that he would have to endure the boring math lesson until he had sufficiently progressed.
'… At least math is the same no matter how different the world was.'
That little fact, coupled with not having to learn an entirely new set of symbols, made it a little more bearable.
A small breath escaped his lips as he skimmed through the work assigned to him, reading ahead to make sure everything lined up with what he already knew.
A few minutes later, he stuffed the completed question into the textbook and left the room, his steps heading to where his history lesson would he held.
'Last lesson was about the…'
The name that immediately came to mind was 'Frumbel', but he waved his hand in the air as if the motion would swat the memory away.
But that mention led him to recall the contents he was searching for, and that he was still being taught on the worlds state during the Age of Division.
Thankfully, his tutor had not lingered on the topic of the Frumbel kingdom, using it as a chance to educate him on the hostility of the different peoples during that time.
That no matter how small the difference in your appearance and beliefs, if you were not from their nation—you were an enemy.
Their intense, almost fervent displays of out-group hostility left no room for neither conformity nor unity between different peoples.
This lack of communication, or rather, unwillingness led to them choosing to pillage instead of trading—after all, why would you seek to trade with people you did not see as yourself.
It was this disregard for one another that led to the constant conflicts, because in their eyes, the only reasonable way to obtain what their neighbours had was to take it.
And whether they would agree to willingly part with their land and resources or not was another issue.
So, they waged war on one another. Constantly.
To the point where the first tool a child held first would be a spear and the first lesson they learned was how to identify the enemy.
In those times, the earth at the ever-changing boarders dividing nations would always carry the lingering scent of blood.
"It was an era defined by division," his tutor said, tone rising slightly as his next words filled with pride, "which is precisely why the Empire's unification of the central territories is regarded as one of the greatest achievements in human history."
"Because without it, there may not have even been any territories left to unite now." he concluded, closing the book in his hands shut for a dramatic finish.
"I'll end it here for today," he said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "If you have any questions before your assessment, ask them now."
Thorsten silently through over the question, his small finger tapping on the desks wooden surface.
"Yes, I do have one…"
The tutor gave a small nod for him to continue.
"The Frumbel kingdom; what became of them after the empire was formed?"
The stout man scratched at his beard thoughtfully, quietly muttering the name to himself.
"Ah… yes, Frumbel."
A strange expression crossed his face amidst his recollection, somewhere between pensive and quiet resignation.
"A kingdom by that name no longer exists, young lord."
Thorsten remained silent, adjusting himself in his seat.
"Although, truthfully speaking," the man admitted with a faint snort, "by the time the Empire rose to prominence, that kingdom's fall had already been another line in its history."
His steps carried around the room's edge as he spoke, hands clasped behind his back.
"Internal conflicts, famine, territorial disputes… the usual failings of most kingdoms during the age of division."
Then his expression hardened slightly, the sunlight obscuring his eyes with its rays.
"However, what ultimately destroyed Frumbel was its collusion with practitioners of the dark arts."
The atmosphere in the room stilled, as a deep cloud shadow swallowed the palace.
"Black mages?" Thorsten asked, a curios smile blooming on his face.
"Yes, young lord. A dangerous and deeply heretical group of individuals," the tutor replied firmly. "Those who have forsaken the teachings of the Gods and cast away their humanity, seeking power through forbidden sorcery."
As he spoke, his earlier calm had faded, his tone carrying a deep disdain as he spoke of the blasphemous mages.
"It is said that several nobles within the Frumbel kingdom had begun secretly harbouring dark mages in pursuit of greater military strength."
He let out a quiet scoff.
"A foolish decision."
"The records that surround their practices are… inconsistent," he admitted after a small pause.
"Some claim entire cities fell to plagues born from corrupted mana. While others speak of disappearances; rituals to false gods, sacrifices for youth and power, and beasts twisted into unnatural forms—degraded into nothing more than mindless monsters."
He let out a small sigh.
"No matter their sins, their crimes were too bold not to spread…
And eventually, The Divine Sects caught wind of their heresy."
Though his tone remained calm, there was an unmistakable note of reverence when he spoke those words.
"What resulted was the most recent crusade to date, with an estimated force of over four hundred thousand crusaders, all marching to purge the corrupted lands and eradicate the dark mages that had defiled them.
Even the tutor's tone seemed to grow heavier as he spoke of it.
"The Holy Knights purged the remaining dark mages, but by then, Frumbel was already beyond saving."
He glanced back towards Thorsten.
"The crusade was largely a success, but by the time they reached what was once Frumbel, both the land and its people were far beyond saving.
"Which is why the kingdom is now remembered less as a nation, and more as a warning."