My case reached the island before I did. A porter carried it down the ramp, set it on a cart, and turned back for another without glancing at the space beneath the dock.
I glanced.
Mist moved below the metal supports. Farther down, something dark might have been a mountainside. I couldn't see enough to decide whether knowing the distance would make me feel better.
"Keep moving, please."
The woman behind me had waited long enough. I stepped off the shuttle.
Nothing shook. I shifted my weight onto the dock, waiting for a movement that never came. The woman stepped around me and followed the porters.
I followed the cart toward an archway where lamps lit the entrance. Cold air slipped beneath my collar. After the carriage, the waiting hall, and the shuttle's close warmth, it felt almost pleasant. Then I saw the bridge.
Stone beneath my feet. A waist-high rail. Beyond it, an open gap between this island and the next. The porters were already crossing.
Of course the luggage route involved the bridge. I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and kept to the middle. My right hand was tender from gripping the folder during the crossing. The left had to manage the strap and whatever remained of my dignity.
Halfway across, the clouds shifted.
I saw the underside of the land ahead. Dark rock curved down toward a point, with pale lines running through it. Trees grew above that impossible edge. A garden wall stood close enough that fallen leaves could drift into open sky.
In the game, I had spent hours walking through those gardens while watching menus. I had never looked beneath them.
A cart wheel caught in a joint ahead of me. The porter put his shoulder behind the handle while another man pulled from the front. I stopped too close and had to move when they rolled it back for another attempt.
The woman from the shuttle passed on my left.
"Keep one side clear," she said, without slowing.
I pressed closer to the rail than I wanted. Wind pushed my coat against my legs. Beneath the rattle of the cart, I could hear water falling somewhere below the bridge, but I couldn't see where it landed. The wheel came free. I followed it across before anyone needed me to move again.
The central towers rose beyond the next courtyard. Their upper windows caught the faint light gathering in the east. Bridges joined different sections at different heights, some broad enough for carts, others narrow enough that I immediately decided to avoid them.
Astral Zenith was larger than the images had suggested.
Less conveniently arranged, too.
The route I remembered from the game started beside the main hall. It did not include carrying a bag up steps while trying to remember which cart held my case. A young man in academy colors stopped us beneath a covered walk.
"Arrivals to the left. Keep your transfer slips ready. Luggage claims at the desk."
I joined the others and reached for the correct paper. For once, I found it on the first attempt.
The clerk took the slip, read the name, and paused.
"Lord Cedric Valdrake Arkhen?"
Several people behind me stopped talking. I hadn't raised my voice. I hadn't even opened my mouth yet.
"Yes."
She straightened the page against the desk.
"Your household rooms have been reserved. The formal registration office opens after the morning assembly. We can record your arrival now."
"And until then?"
"The receiving lounge is available. Your luggage will be held here."
I looked through the side doorway. Chairs. A low table. A man already asleep with his hat over his eyes.
Good enough.
"Water?" I asked.
The clerk pointed toward a covered pitcher near the wall, then seemed to reconsider.
"I can have someone bring it."
"I see it."
She lowered her eyes to the record. I signed where she indicated, collected my claim slip, and went to sit before a simple drink became an event.
The chair was harder than the one in my bedroom. I fell asleep in it anyway.
...
Bells woke me.
I opened my eyes with one hand already pressed against the notebook inside my coat. The bag remained between my feet. The folder sat under my other arm.
Nothing missing.
My neck had gained a new problem, but I would survive it. Morning light filled the covered walk. Students passed the lounge in small groups, following the sound toward the main court. Banners hung between the columns. Someone had set bowls of pale flowers along the windowsills while I slept.
Founding Day.
I had reached the academy on the first day of its year, and the academy had decided to celebrate before giving me a key. At the registration desk, the same clerk was closing a book.
"The assembly begins shortly," she said. "The room allocations resume afterward."
"My rooms are reserved."
"Yes, my lord. The receiving officer must confirm the assignment. He's at the assembly."
I could object. Make her find someone, perhaps make the people waiting behind me enjoy another example of Cedric's manners. It wouldn't bring the officer back faster unless he agreed I was worth interrupting the ceremony for.
I took the small printed program instead. The assembly courtyard lay beyond a broad flight of steps. Rows of students faced a raised platform, with staff along one side and late arrivals trying to work out which gaps were meant for them.
I chose a place near the back. A boy beside me noticed the crest at my collar and moved enough to leave an empty space between us.
I let him.
The speech concerned the founding of the academy, the duty attached to talent, and several people whose names were carved over buildings I had yet to find. I listened more carefully when the speaker mentioned examinations.
New arrivals would complete registration, attend the scheduled assessments, and receive their standing through the academy's process. Existing privileges remained governed by the current records until the new results were entered. That sounded more useful than the part about carrying the founders' hopes.
I had enough to carry already. When the students began moving, I followed the group returning toward registration. My right palm had started to ache beneath the wrap. I shifted the folder to my left arm and tried not to look as tired as I felt.
The receiving officer arrived with a stack of documents and an apology directed at nobody in particular. My name moved me ahead of two people.
The room key did not arrive nearly as quickly.
"The Valdrake suite is held under a household arrangement," he said, checking the seal on my warrant. "Personal accommodation and academy standing are recorded separately."
I looked at the card he placed beside the key. No rank. No tier. My name, an arrival mark, and permission to use the facilities needed for registration.
"The assessment assigns the rest?"
"Alongside the academic and contribution records, yes. Your accommodation does not establish a place on the ranked list."
He had probably explained that to several nobles already. I wanted to ask how many had believed him.
Instead, I asked where the examination notices were posted. He marked a location on the small grounds map and pushed it toward me.
"The principal notice board. Staff will also direct new arrivals during registration."
I kept the map. The game version had been easier to read, but this one didn't require a computer in another world. The officer checked my household correspondence forms next. I supplied the suite address after he read it out, then watched him separate the arrival notice from the papers I needed to keep.
"This enters the outgoing office," he said. "Retain your own copy."
I kept the copy with the departure forms. If my father's notice took longer to reach him than he expected, at least I could show when I had sent it. My case appeared beside the desk. A porter waited for me to identify the tag before releasing it.
I took the handle.
Heavy.
I had removed shoes and silver for this thing. It still seemed personally committed to making me regret the primer. The porter reached for it again.
"The residence passage has steps, my lord."
I could insist on carrying it to avoid looking weak. Then I could drop it on the steps and look weak in front of more people.
"Show me."
He lifted the case and led the way. The suite occupied a quiet section of the residence wing. A sitting room opened onto a bedroom and a small study. The windows faced a terrace, with distant towers visible beyond the rail.
Too much space for one person again. At least this time I knew how I had arrived in it.
The porter placed the case beside the wardrobe and gave me a short notice concerning the staff assignment. An attendant would report later that day.
I set the notice beside the water pitcher and checked the bedroom door, the study, and the latch to the terrace. The terrace latch caught at the bottom. I worked it loose, opened the door, and made sure I could close it again.
Once alone, I opened the case and made sure the notebook's spare paper and the transfer receipt had survived the trip.
Both were fine.
I sat on the bed for a moment with the key in my hand. A room. An arrival card. A place on the assessment list.
None guaranteed I would still be here after the examination. But I was here now.
I washed, changed the travel wrap, and went back toward the hall to find out what registration still required. Near the entrance, a case had caught against a low step. Papers lay across the floor. A student crouched beside them while someone held the case upright.
The boy holding it looked up as I approached. I knew his face before I noticed anything else.
Aiden Crest.
The last time I had seen him, my controller was in my hands.