The next morning came faster than Aldric expected.
Len was already eating when Aldric sat down.
The dining hall was quieter in the morning — fewer voices, less energy. New joiners in white drifted in and found seats the way they had yesterday, in loose groups that were still forming. The food was bread, butter, and porridge that tasted like it had been made in large quantities and cared about in small ones.
"There they are," Len said, and waved at two people crossing the hall.
The first was hard to miss. A boy — broad, tall for his age, with the kind of frame that suggested he had been carrying heavy things since he could walk. He dropped onto the bench across from Aldric and immediately reached for the bread.
"Tarn," Len said. "Tarn, this is Aldric. My roommate."
"Morning," Tarn said through a mouthful of bread. He grinned. It was not a small grin.
The girl sat beside Tarn. She was slight where Tarn was wide, with dark hair pulled back and eyes that moved across Aldric once — quick, measuring — before she looked away.
"Sera," she said. That was her introduction.
"Aldric," he said.
"I know. Len hasn't stopped talking about you."
Len raised a hand. "That's not true. I mentioned you once."
"Twice," Sera said. "You said he was quiet and from a village. Gripping stuff."
Tarn laughed. Len shrugged. Aldric ate his porridge.
The conversation moved easily. Tarn asked about the induction — whether Vessa was always like that. Len said he had heard she was the same every year. Sera said she respected anyone who could make a room that size go silent with one sentence.
The three missions came up. Tarn did not seem bothered. "Free training, free meals, free roof. Three missions is a fair price."
Sera looked at him. "You're remarkably cheerful about being owed."
"Better than being turned away."
Len leaned back. "The missions normally match the strength of the candidate. They're not sending fresh graduates into anything they can't handle. It's work, not punishment."
Sera made a sound that was not quite agreement. She let it go.
"What about the nobles?" Aldric asked. It was the first thing he had said beyond his name.
Len shrugged. "They keep to themselves. Different tables, different circles. They won't bother you if you don't bother them."
"Vessa's speech sounded like it's happened before," Aldric said.
"Probably has," Len said. "But it's never the nobles who start it. They just don't mix."
Tarn reached for more bread. "Fine by me. More food at our table."
Sera looked at Aldric. "So. Village boy, Water mage, first time in a city. How are you finding it?"
Aldric thought about it. "Loud," he said. "But I'm getting used to it."
Tarn laughed. Len grinned. Sera almost smiled.
"You'll fit in," she said, and went back to her porridge.
* * *
The classroom was smaller than the assembly hall but still large enough for fifty students. Wooden desks in rows. A broad table at the front with a stack of papers and a cup that might have held tea an hour ago. Behind the table, covering most of the wall, hung a map.
Aldric had never seen a map before. Not a real one. He had seen scratches in the dirt — Edran drawing the shape of a road, Tomas marking where the property line ended. But this was something else. Ink on treated cloth, stretched wide, showing a landmass so large that Ashford would not have been a speck on it.
The continent of Airidon.
The man standing beside the map was old. Not old the way Edran was old — weathered by roads and war. This man was old the way books are old. Thin, stooped slightly, with spectacles that sat low on his nose and hands spotted with ink. He wore no robes of rank. No colour. Just a plain brown coat with patches at the elbows and pockets that sagged with the weight of things he had forgotten to take out.
"My name is Tully," he said. His voice was dry and unhurried, the voice of a man who had learned long ago that no one listens to the first sentence anyway. "I am not a mage. I have never cast a spell in my life and I do not intend to start. I teach geography and history, and I have done so at this hall for longer than most of you have been alive."
He picked up a wooden pointer and tapped the map.
"This is the world. Or the part of it we know. The continent of Airidon — home to eight races, five empires, three independent kingdoms, four free cities, and one stretch of land that no one in their right mind would set foot in. By the end of this year you will know all of it. Today we start with the broad strokes."
He tapped the centre of the map — the largest territory, shaded in pale gold.
"The Aurean Empire. Your empire. The Human empire. Ruled by Emperor Lionard from the imperial capital. Beneath the Emperor sit four dukes, each governing one of the four kingdoms — Valeres, Higharch, Solrand, and Westhaven." He traced each kingdom on the map as he named it. "You are sitting in Westhaven. Specifically, in Valmont, which is one of the four major cities of the kingdom."
He moved the pointer west.
"The Empire of Litheris. The Elven empire. Three kingdoms — Aelthis-High, Sylvaen-Wood, and Moonwyn. The oldest civilisation on the continent. The Elves were building cities when Humans were still arguing about who owned which field." A few students smiled. Tully did not. "Their culture is ancient and proud. They were among the first to join the alliance during the Great War, and they have not forgotten that they were needed."
The pointer moved south.
"The Khazrad Empire. Dwarves. Three kingdoms — Trondep, Stonhelm, and Runforge. A people built on stone, steel, and stubbornness. Their craftsmanship is unmatched on the continent. If you have ever held a weapon or worn armour worth owning, there is a fair chance a Dwarf had a hand in making it."
East.
"The Varkaal Empire. Beastmen. Three kingdoms — Eangreach, Scalehaven, and Obsidian. Physically the most imposing race on the continent. Diverse in appearance — some resemble wolves, others bears, others creatures you have never seen. Their culture values strength but do not mistake that for simplicity. They are as capable of diplomacy as any Elf. They simply prefer to negotiate from a position of power."
He tapped a smaller territory in the northeast.
"The Gorrath Kingdom. Orks. A single unified kingdom. They keep to themselves more than most. Less is known about their internal affairs than any of the empires, and they seem content with that arrangement."
Below it.
"The Copper Crown Deep. Goblins. Also a single kingdom — largely underground. Secretive. Rarely seen beyond their own borders. They trade when it suits them and vanish when it does not. Most of what we know about Goblin society comes from merchants who were allowed in and chose to come back."
The pointer moved to a small territory that sat between two larger ones.
"The Zephyron Kingdom. The Aurion. A fully independent race and kingdom — and unlike any other on this map." He tapped the territory. "Zephyron does not sit on the ground. The entire kingdom rests on a floating landmass, raised into the sky long ago by a gathering of Grand Master mages from multiple races. The reasons and the methods behind it are the subject of more scholarly debate than I care to summarise in one lesson. What matters is that it exists, it floats, and the Aurion have lived there ever since." He paused. "Beyond that, the Aurion are perhaps the least understood people on the continent. They keep their own counsel. Their culture, their history, their customs — much of it remains unknown to outside scholars." He adjusted his spectacles. "I include myself in that number, and it irritates me."
A few students laughed. Tully waited for them to finish.
Then he moved the pointer to the far edge of the map — a region shaded in dark red, almost black, with no borders drawn inside it.
"The Land of Chaos."
The room went quiet.
"Thirty years ago, this was the homeland of the Demon race. Demons are not monsters — they are a civilisation, with their own society, their own structure, their own history. The Great War between the allied races and the Demons lasted over a thousand years. It ended thirty years ago with their defeat." He let the pointer rest on the dark territory. "Since then, the land has been abandoned. Dangerous creatures have moved in — beasts, things without names, remnants of a war that scarred the earth itself. No empire claims it. No army patrols it. It is, for all purposes, the one place on this continent where the rules of civilisation do not apply."
He lifted the pointer and moved it to four small dots scattered across the map — each marked with a different symbol.
"Finally — the Free Cities. Four independent city-states with no allegiance to any empire. Concord. The Free City of Luvearn. The Iron March. And Vaelon. They govern themselves. They trade with everyone. They answer to no one. If the empires are the bones of this continent, the Free Cities are the joints — small, but without them, nothing bends."
He set the pointer down and looked at the room.
"That is the world you live in. Most of you have never left the kingdom you were born in. Some of you have never left the town." His eyes moved across the rows without settling on anyone in particular. "By the time you leave this hall, the world will be larger than you think it is. It always is."
He picked up his cup, looked into it, found it empty, and set it down again.
"Questions?"
The room was quiet. Not because there were no questions — because there were too many.
"Good," Tully said. "We will start with the Aurean Empire in detail next class. Bring your books."