!!!REMINDER!!!

This novel is a work of fiction.
Any similarity to events, people, objects or places both real or fiction, are merely the product of an overactive imagination, unless specified.

© Gem Vecino 2024 All rights reserved

No part of this online publication or any of its contents may be reproduced, copied, modified or adapted in any way, form, or kind without the prior written consent of the author, Gem Vecino - aka - Alex Rosas - aka - Psynoid Al.

Year of the Gray Owl, 489th year of the Holy Royal Indicum Empire, and the 38th year reign of the Mauve Emperor, Nigellus Vladimir Indicum the 4th.

It is spring once again, the 15th in my life, and the start of the 141st academic year here in the Empire’s most prestigious, Royal Mauve Academy.

I gaze out the window of the coach I am riding to look at the long line in front of the academy gates. Countless people have flocked in front as parents say farewell to their children who would be staying here for six years.

I was still observing the scene outside when my coach door flung open.

“Sir, I think it would be better to get off now,” said the coachman who’s been clicking his tongue for some time now.

“But, we’re not inside the school campus yet, and we’re still several feet away from...”

“Tsk, it’d be a bigger problem if I have to turn the coach `round at the end of the road,” he cut me off. “Can’t you see how many carriages are stuck by the gate already?”

I gave a deep sigh.

“Okay, thank you for taking me this far,” I told the coachman. “Please tell my parents I got here safe and sound.”

“As if they’d care,” he mumbled under his breath. “They didn’t even bother to send you here themselves.”

I unfolded my long legs and stepped out of the coach as the grumpy coachman climbed back to his seat.

I couldn’t blame him.

We have been traveling for eight days now, and his worn-out horse looks as weary as I am. My bones have been rattling for eight days, and the seats of the old rented coach were as hard as the ironwood desk I left in my old reading room.

I stretch out my arms before lowering the heavy luggage I had with me. I guess I shouldn’t have brought too many books. I straightened out the hooded cloak I was wearing and hauled my luggage over my back for the longest walk I was about to take under the sun since I was brought to this world.

“Master, please, get back inside!” I looked at a fancy black carriage ahead of us and saw that I wasn’t the only one who had decided to take a walk.

“The sun would be down before we could reach the Academy gates!” said the impatient voice of a young man with golden hair. “It would be faster for me to walk the rest of the way. Just drop my luggage when you finally reach the gates.”

The young man went on his way, his golden hair glittering in the afternoon sun, his lush blue cloak trailing behind him. I saw a gilded sword hanging on his left hip with the sigil of a wolf on its scabbard, but was not able to see his face.

The same sigil was on the carriage he vacated – a dire wolf in a blue background howling at the moon. The sigil of House Ancyon, cousins of the current emperor.

He walked fast, quickly leaving me at his pace, as I took my time to look at the world around me.

The sun is past its highest and had begun to climb down, meaning it’s way past noon. There are no clouds visible in the sky, but the crisp air was still a bit chilly, and I couldn’t help but think that the dreary mood in the other coaches had something to do with it.

“I will pray for you every single day, my son...” I heard a woman cry in one carriage.

“We will miss you, son, remember to stay strong!” came from another.

“Father... I don’t want to go...” moaned yet another voice from a white coach.

“Do it for the family,” answered a stern voice from within.

I gave another sigh and went on my way, hearing more weeping from other coaches and carriages I passed, the last of which was blocking the way towards the gates.

“Promise me you would write often...” cried a woman’s voice from inside the large carriage with the sigil of a fish on its side. “This is your brother’s fault for falling off the cliff last summer!”

The woman starts to wail.

“Don’t worry, mother, it can’t be as bad as uncle Phillip says!” a youthful voice answered back as I walked past them.

With all the wailing around the place, one would think that these young men were marching off to war instead of an academy. But who can blame them? This place is just a facade, after all.

It was actually established by past emperors to guarantee the loyalty of their subjects. A prison to hold the first born sons of all noble houses hostage.

Frankly, though, I think of it as a privileged since it’s beneficial to most nobles, particularly for those who have long lost their fortune due to one circumstance or another.

After all, Royal Mauve Academy is known as the best house of learning in the whole empire. Its students are guaranteed high positions in the central government in fact, I came here for the Royal Library which is famous in all eight kingdoms as the most massive and comprehensive gateway of knowledge in all of the Empire.

That alone is reason enough for me to spend six years of my life in this prison.

I finally reached the tall gates of the academy.

It is gilded in silver and gold and spanned at both direction for as far as the eye could see.

In front are several tents where the students can register for the new school year. There are hardly any people inside, though, as most of the students were still loitering around and weeping with their parents.

“Please proceed to the nearest vacant tent to register,” a bored looking page called out to us. “Registration ends at 5 o’clock sharp and the rest would be forced to return tomorrow,” he continued with a yawn. “Those who fail to register tomorrow will no longer be accepted, and their families would be forced to pay the mandatory fine of a thousand gold coins per month until next year’s registration.”

I heard the wailing behind me rise as the noble parents bid farewell to their heirs.

Not that I could blame them, since the current taxes are bleeding even some of our vassals dry, and continued refusal to send their first born can also be viewed as treason which is reason enough to confiscate all the lands and properties of even the most high ranking nobles.

“State your identification and hand over your birth certificate, please” said an old scholar as I entered the first tent I encountered. A name plate on the table had the words ‘Prof. Laurel Novil’ etched on it.

He fixed his spectacles as he took my papers, his long silvery hair, tightly tied into a bun. He wore a long lilac gown with a purple stole and the sigil of the Royal Mauve Academy on his left breast which showed three stars rising from an opened tome.

“Patrick Siccus, first born of the royal Siccus house, cousin of his Majesty, Emperor Nigellus Vladimir Indicum the 4th sun of the Empire...” he mumbled as he read my documents. “So, you’re the famous recluse?” he asked, looking up at me.

“Recluse?” I asked back, a bit confused.

The man tilted his head and squinted his eyes.

“Do you mind removing your hood?” he asked of me.

I raised a hand and slipped my hood down.

“Dear lords!” he exclaimed. “Do you have some kind of wasting disease? Is that the reason why His Grace, Duke Siccus, sent you here without protest?!”

“I assure you, Sir, that I am as healthy as can be,” I smiled and felt my dry lips crack. “I was just a bit fatigued due to the long voyage.”

“Do you have a doctor’s certificate to prove that?” he asked suspiciously.

“Of course, sir.” I pulled a piece of paper from my luggage and handed it to the professor.

I guess my mother was right in thinking that I should take a physical check-up before leaving for the academy.

The man looked at me again, his frown deepening.

“I refuse to believe you are merely suffering from dehydration!” he exclaimed.

“You can always check in with our royal physician,” I told him. “I believe he is currently in the empire as well.”

“There’s no need for that,” the professor sighed. “You do have the purple eyes of nobility, no matter how sallow it looks, and the deep ebony hair, though wiry and dry...”

“Were you perhaps, thinking that I am not who I claim to be?”

“No. Of course not...” he quickly replied.

Insulting a noble is a major offense punishable by death, after all.

“Then, please sign your name here and bring your luggage to the next table to get your belongings checked.”

I placed my luggage on top of a long table at the end of the tent. The man sitting behind it looked at me with distaste. He wore the purple coat of a Mauve Academy student with five small diamonds on his left coat pocket, signifying he’s a 5th year student.

“Open it,” he ordered me. “Are you sure you’re the son of Duke Siccus?” he asked as he gingerly looked at the contents of my luggage. “I can’t believe they sired something like you.”

With the way he spoke, something told me this student wasn’t afraid of my noble rank at all.

“Don’t you have any other able-bodied brother to take your place?” he continued as he prodded my clothes with a long stick.

“Well, it did say in the Royal Summons that the first born was to be sent regardless of health or constitution, thus eliminating any chance for a noble house to refuse attendance by faking an illnesses or staging an accident...”

“Yeah, whatever,” the student interrupted, “just make sure you don’t bring some disease into the campus.”

“Rest assured that—”

“Next!” he shouted out.

I looked at the state of my luggage.

My clothes were strewn all over the long table. Good thing he didn’t bother to look through the thick books at the bottom, though. The elderly professor then handed me a cardboard identification card with my name on it, family name omitted, title not included.

I was still fixing my clothes when a young lad entered the tent. He was followed by a small group of people who were probably part of his noble house, all of whom looked like somebody just died.

“Please, young master, please take care of yourself!” cried an old gentleman who looked like a butler. “Your poor mother’s health would never be the same with you stuck in this pris– in this academy...”

“Remember to take your meals on time, young master,” said a young girl in a maid’s uniform.

“And take a bath every day!” said another.

“And please keep away from the seniors,” cried a young woman clad in a splendid black dress, probably an elder sister. “That is how I lost my dear Franz...” she told him teary-eyed. “Stay low profile and make sure you never catch their eyes, you are too lovely after all!”

“That’s right, young master! Stay away from those seniors, and make sure you find Sir Lycan as soon as possible!”

“Of course!” the little lord finally said in a sweet youthful voice. “The first thing I’m gonna do is look for Lycan and make sure he’s okay!” he exclaimed, raising a fist up in the air.

I smiled a little, remembering our youngest back home who loves to bother me whenever I visit the family library. Only a game of hide and seek would give me back some peace and quiet. Until he realizes that I don’t actually plan to go look for him.

I finally fixed the things in my luggage.

I pulled my hood back over my head and was about to leave the tent when I felt a light tug on my cloak.

“Sir, if you don’t mind...” It was the lady with the young lad. “Can you please look after my baby brother inside the academy?”

“I beg your pardon?” I asked the lady who now stood before me.

“I am Lady Caithlyn Sylvester, oldest daughter of Count Felix Sylvester, and this is my brother Felix Cathan Sylvester II, the only son and heir of house Sylvester, and my family and I would be more than grateful if you could look after our beloved sibling.”

“Ah, if that is all, then I would be glad to be his companion,” I replied with a smile.

“Thank you, kind Sir...” she said, breaking into tears, as if her eyes weren’t swollen enough. “May I know the name of our kind benefactor?”

“Ah, I am Patrick Siccus, the first born of – ”

The lady turned pale as she suddenly fell on her knees in supplication!

“I do beg your pardon, Lord Patrick Siccus!” she exclaimed. “I-I had no idea I was addressing the grand duke’s son...”

“Oh, please don’t mind!” I touched her shoulder and helped her up. “Besides, my father is no longer the grand duke since the first crown prince came of age.”

“E-even so... for this lowly daughter of a count to ask you...”

She fell silent as she noticed the bony hand touching her.

“My goodness! Have you been suffering from a wasting disease?!” she asked me.

“Ah, I am just a little tired from my travels, it took us more than a week to get here after all,” I said under my breath.

“More than a week?” she looked at me, puzzled. “But my Lord, our territory is much farther than yours, yet we were able to arrived here in five days time.”

“Is that so?” I asked her, a bit surprised. “Perhaps my coachman wasn’t very familiar with the route.”

Then again, it must be because his horse was too old to run faster than a trot.

“Woah! Your eyes are so big and huge! They look like they’re about to pop out!” said a young voice by my side.

I looked down and saw young Lord Sylvester looking up at me. I pulled my hood lower and looked away.

“Cat! Mind your manners!” his sister scolded him.

“But sister, his eyes are the deepest purple I have ever seen!” he continued.

“That is because house Siccus is of the purest lines of the Indicus family!” his sister pointed out. “His mother is the youngest daughter of the late Emperor Nigellus Vladimir Indicum I, and his father is the emperor’s second cousin from his mother’s line.”

“Does that mean...” Cat tilted his head, his eyes narrowed, “he’s the emperor’s grandfather?” Cat asked, his blue eyes wide.

“Granduncle!” his sister corrected him, “that is why you must treat him with utmost respect!”

“Hey, do you people plan to stay here all day?” asked the young man behind the long table. He seemed to have just finished checking Cat’s things which his servants were currently organizing.

“You may both enter the gates now,” the elderly scholar told us. “May I remind you also, that entering Royal Mauve Academy’s gates mean that you have left your family name and title behind,” he added as he adjusted his glasses. “You will only redeem them when you exit the gates six years from now. You are currently students of the empire and must act accordingly. Now take your luggage and go, we shall meet again when classes begin next week.