Ardan woke up to the familiar creak of a door hinge. Instinctively, he tried to sit up, only to hit his head on the low ceiling. Hissing like a forest cat, he rubbed his sore forehead. Blinking away the grogginess, he turned his gaze toward the narrow strip of glass that served as a window. He had chosen the top bunk despite its limited space because of this. Ardan had always woken with the sun and had never needed an alarm clock — not that he even owned one.
But, as always, Metropolis and the Imperial Magical University were full of surprises. Last night, even with his half-blood Matabar vision, Ardan hadn’t noticed that the strip of glass was so dirty, and covered in so much grime and grease, that only the most stubborn and persistent rays of light could penetrate it.
Looking around, Ardi saw the rumpled beds, the suitcases by the foot of the beds, and the haphazardly-piled travel bags. It seemed his new roommates had arrived sometime near dawn, choosing not to unpack their belongings either. What surprised Ardan was that he had been sleeping so deeply that he hadn’t woken up when several others — Firstborn, no doubt — had entered the room.
Well, then...
Stretching, Ardan grabbed his boots, which he had tied together by their laces and hung at the head of his bunk. His suits and both pairs of shoes, ’gifts’ from the Anorsky family, were stowed in his bag, reserved for better times. Times when he could sell them and finally clear his debts while not helping others fulfil their Fae deal ...
After slipping on his work boots, he changed his shirt (thankfully, Tatiana had laundered all his clothes, for which he was deeply grateful) and realized with a grim frown that he only had one clean shirt left. Fastening his belt with its wide buckle, he slid a knife into the sheath at the small of his back and grabbed his toothbrush set from his satchel. Armed with a bristled stick and powder, he peeked out into the hallway.
The corridor was already bustling. Students rushed along, some armed with the same toothbrushes and powder jars, heading toward the bathrooms. Others, straightening their cloaks and grabbing their staves, had slung strange leather satchels over their shoulders — satchels that reminded Ardan of postmen’s bags — and were making their way toward the stairs.
"What’s your first class, Duvin?" Asked a tall, slightly-shorter-than-Ardan half-elf with pitch-black hair in a melodic voice.
"Let me check," grumbled his companion, a short but broad-shouldered dwarf with sideburns that curled like sheep’s wool. "It’s... ’The Introductory Lecture on Star Engineering Theory’ with the second group of the General Faculty."
Ardan almost choked in sheer surprise. Could it be that luck was finally on his side? He clearly remembered his own schedule. His first class, starting at eight in the morning, was exactly what Duvin, the pure-blooded dwarf, had mentioned: "The Introductory Lecture on Star Engineering Theory." And Ardan was, indeed, in the second group of the General Faculty’s first-year students.
"Excuse me," Ardan cleared his throat to catch their attention. "Could you tell me where room 4-215 is? It’s listed in my schedule."
"Four two-fifteen?" the dwarf repeated. "Ah, you’re heading the same way as me? Well, it’s a bit tricky, big guy. You’ve got to head to the atrium, take the east wing, then turn... Actually, you’d better stop by the information desk and buy a ma-"
The half-elf, who had been eyeing Ardan closely all this time, nudged his friend and whispered something into his ear.
The dwarf stiffened, frowned, and threw a not-so-friendly look at Ardan.
"Egobar," he muttered before spitting on the ground. Rolling up his schedule, he and the half-elf walked off toward the stairs, their heels clicking almost in sync, and their wool coats rustling as they went.
As soon as the name "Egobar" was uttered, the lively hallway froze for a moment. Dozens of eyes turned toward Ardan, and in each pair, he read different sorts of — though none of them pleasant — emotions.
Ranging from open disdain and hatred to indifference and thinly-veiled envy, none were neutral.
"Good morning," Ardan sighed, forcing out a crooked smile before turning toward the bathrooms.
Inside, the bathrooms were only somewhat smaller than the luxurious ones in the duchess’ mansion, which probably said a lot. Seven sinks with automatic water dispensers lined one wall. Opposite them were seven toilet stalls, separated by wooden partitions painted an unpleasant, murky green. At the far end were four open showers, also with automatic water dispensers.
As Ardan had discovered, this entire system, like the heating, ran on Ley energy-powered pumps. Only a little over ten percent of the homes in Metropolis could boast such innovations, and most relied on simple physics, using massive cisterns on their roofs to supply water through gravity-fed pipes.
When Ardan approached a free sink, a young man of about twenty-two was already standing beside him. The stranger smiled at his "neighbor," but before Ardan could return the smile, a passing student whispered something to the man, and his expression immediately soured. Without a word, the man turned away, any interest he’d had in Ardan lost.
As Ardan had expected, no one at the Grand, at least for the next few months, would remain indifferent to the presence of an Egobar at the university. And each person would have their own reason for it.
In time, of course, just like in Evergale, things would settle down. Students would grow accustomed to his presence and become absorbed in their usual routines. But that would take time — probably until after the New Year.
Sighing and shaking his head, Ardan brushed his teeth and returned to his room, where he grabbed his staff and laid out his textbooks on the bed. He packed the rest of his belongings into his satchel, though there wasn’t much left to store, so there was plenty of space.
He placed three textbooks in the now-empty bag, the ones required for today’s lectures. At the Grand, students had six class days out of seven.
Weekly Class Schedule:
Sixth Day (Today):
8:00 in the morning — 15-minute break — 10:30 in the morning
"The Introductory Lecture on Star Engineering Theory."
Room: 4-215. Joint class with Group 1 from the Faculty of Star Engineering.
Professor: Dr. Erik Convel, Doctor of Engineering and Senior Magister of Star Engineering.
Textbooks:
"Star Engineering: General Theory," by E. Convel
"Principles of Interaction between Ley Energy and the Material World," by Sh. Tovalev
"A Brief Overview of Basic Seal Types," by Sh. Tovalev & N. Tovalev
10:50 in the morning — 15-minute break — 1:20 in the afternoon
"An Introduction to the Theory of Star Biology and Alchemy."
Room: 7-001. Joint class with Group 3 from the Faculty of Star Biology and Alchemy.
Professor: Dr. Nathan Kovertsky, Senior Magister of Star Alchemy.
Textbooks:
"Living Organisms and the Ley" by N. Kovertsky
"Handbook on Ley Flora and Fauna" by AshKau-Tan (Translated by Nikiti Dubov)
— ONE-HOUR BREAK —
2:20 in the afternoon — 3:50 in the afternoon
"An Introduction to General Physical and Military Training."
Location: Training Grounds.
Instructor: Colonel Vseslav Kshtovsky, War Mage, Senior Magister of War Magic.
You’ll need comfortable clothing or your uniform, if available.
Today, Ardan had only three lectures, each lasting two hours and fifteen minutes (the break, it seemed, was included in that time), followed by military training for an hour and a half. On other days, according to his schedule, the General Faculty students would have four lectures. Interestingly, all of the classes, except the "General Theory of Star Magic," were taught alongside other faculties, which seemed logical.
Mart had mentioned that the first-year courses often shared lectures. As they progressed through their second and third years, the joint lectures became rarer, and by the time students reached the end of third year, they would hardly ever attend classes with students from other faculties.
The only exception was general military training. Every mage who graduated from the Grand received a junior officer rank and was considered a first-rank military conscript.
What did that mean?
Unlike the Principality of Fatia or the island nations, the Empire did not need traditional conscription draft. Its army was sustained by regular recruitment and a system known as the "lottery forces."
This referred to young men who, upon turning seventeen, would receive a summons from the provincial military office if their identification number was chosen at random. These men, whether they wanted to or not, and even if they’d had no intention of ever becoming recruits, would then have to serve for five years.
This system fueled various rumors in the newspapers. Stories about corruption in military offices were frequent, claiming that identification numbers were anything but randomly selected, and that there were cases where one person would be drafted in place of another.
Of course, even if someone "won" the lottery, that didn’t guarantee they would actually serve. First, there was the medical examination, followed by the professional commission, which would confirm whether the conscript had a critical occupation for the region. Also, after the young men spent five years marching across parade grounds, only about a quarter of them would ask to be discharged. The rest would choose to bind their futures to the army.
After all, it came with good pay, accommodations, benefits for their children... While on the civilian side of things, after years of service, they had neither a profession nor a clear path forward.
As Teacher Parnas used to say, the army was one of the Empire’s fastest social elevators — elevators that had an entrance but no exit.
And what did it mean to be a "first-rank conscript?" It meant that if an order came from the military office (whether there was a war or not), these individuals had to drop everything and immediately report for duty for however long they were needed.
That was why every Star Mage, in every higher educational institution with a Star Magic faculty, was required to undergo military training.
As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Ardan made his way out of the basement (or rather, the "minus-first floor"), passing by the loudly snoring warden, who was slumped in his chair, a half-full bottle of wine dangling from his hand.
As Ardan moved through the passageway toward the atrium, he took a moment to inspect the other doors more closely. As he’d suspected, each was marked with a number. They likely referred to all those different buildings Ardan had seen when he’d first arrived at Star Square.
The Imperial Magical University wasn’t just an enormous skyscraper of mind-boggling design, it was also an entire complex of structures.
On one of the doors, Ardan even noticed a slightly tarnished, brass number "7," which matched the room listed for one of his lectures later in the day. But, considering he had just over half an hour before class, he decided to follow the dwarf’s advice.
The atrium, in contrast to the bustling activity of the previous evening, was much quieter this morning. Most students were either moving from door to door or rushing toward the elevators. Only a small number sat on the couches and benches near the monument, while the rest congregated at the information desk. Surprisingly, Ardan saw no students in cloaks staffing it this time. Instead, the familiar yellow uniforms were in charge.
Approaching a free clerk, Ardan found himself facing a man in his forties, with graying hair, a gap between his teeth, and sagging skin.
"Good morning, student," the clerk greeted him.
"Good morning," Ardan replied a bit slowly.
"How can I help you today?"
"Where are all the stud-"
"You must be new around here," the yellow-clad clerk interrupted, casting a slightly mocking and somewhat condescending glance at Ardan. Yes, compared to the other students, with their clicking heels, rustling pants, and in the case of the women, long skirts and dresses, Ardan’s work boots, simple pants, shirt, and leather vest stood out. "The university has traditions. One of them is that on opening day, students handle all the administrative work, helping their future colleagues. But that’s only for the opening day."
That... made sense. If students were involved in all the administrative tasks at the Grand, when would they ever find time to study? It also explained Bazhen’s earlier remarks about punishments involving work in the various offices.
In the violet gaze that briefly ran over him, there was plenty of it. Enough to drown in.
"By the way, there are lots of famous female mages in every scientific field," Elena went on. "So-"
Ardan’s mind flashed with images of his mother, Shali, Atta’nha, Anna, Cassara, Marshal Elliny, Katerina, and not to mention Velena Emergold. And all the other women Ardan had met along his path among the dreams of the Sleeping Spirits.
"I have no prejudices about that," he shrugged.
He honestly didn’t understand what Elena was talking about. In the harsh world of Evergale, there had been no time for such distinctions. Women did one kind of work, men did another. No one questioned which was harder or easier, who had more rights or fewer. Everyone was equally busy surviving. And if they didn’t work together, there would be no Evergale.
At that moment, a man in a navy blue robe with a broad, yellow sash entered the lecture hall. He looked to be about sixty years old, short and wizened, with piercing green eyes and a head of thick, graying hair.
In his hand, he carried a pointer that resembled a short staff (Ardan noticed a few seals carved into it), and on his shoulders, the man bore four stars. Four, seven, eight, and two-pointed stars. Judging by the color of his sash, it seemed that the rules about wearing one’s regalia had some flexibility, if not outright exceptions.
"Good morning, my colleagues," the doctor of Star Engineering greeted them as he glanced out the window. "Although, after spending my well-deserved vacation by the Azure Sea, mornings in the Metropolis don’t seem quite as good anymore."
A wave of chuckles rolled through the room, but Ardan, who had only read about the warmth of the Azure Sea in textbooks, couldn’t appreciate the joke.
"Unfortunately, that vacation is over, and so is your easy school life," the professor continued. "I am Senior Magister Erik Convel, and I am also the head of the Seal Construction Department."
A few claps were heard from the front rows where the Engineering students sat.
"Thank you, thank you," the professor smiled, revealing unnaturally perfect, white teeth for a man of his age. "Well then, since I have the honor of being your first guide into the world of high science, let’s not waste time and begin."
Convel waved his pointer, and a seal engraved on it lit up. First, it glowed with a yellow hue, then emitted a steady, blue light, much like the glow of the Ley-lamps.
At the same time, the textbooks on the students’ desks seemed to come to life, opening to the first page. But the small display of skill wasn’t over yet. The letters in the books sparkled with orange light, while on the graphite board, diagrams, formulas, and descriptions began to appear, written in that same blue light.
After a few moments, the light in the textbooks faded, leaving only the diagrams and symbols on the board, now looking as though they had been drawn with ordinary chalk.
"Judging by your eager expressions," the professor stood before his desk, arms crossed over his chest, "my traditional opening demonstration has had its intended effect. Well then, let’s assess your knowledge so we know where to start. Who can tell me the classification of the seal I just used?"
Ardan was astonished. What? He thought as several hands shot up into the air. Not just the Engineers, but a good half of the room was ready to answer the question, even though Ardan hadn’t even understood what had been asked.
"You, young lady," the professor aimed his pointer at someone. "Second row, fourth bench."
A girl with shiny earrings and a low forehead (which, oddly enough, suited her) stood up.
"That was a two-contour general-type seal," she replied. "If I’m not mistaken, two rays of the Red and one ray of the Green Star were used."
"Close, but incorrect," Convel replied without a hint of displeasure. In fact, he seemed energized by the response. "Next."
Fewer hands were raised this time, likely because a few others had come to the same incorrect conclusion.
Two-contour? What does that even mean? Ardan’s mind raced.
"You, young lady. First row, fifth bench."
The girl with violet eyes and sharp ears stood up.
"An embedded seal," she answered curtly.
"Even closer," the professor’s smile widened, and the number of raised hands dwindled further. "Perhaps you, young lady at the back, by the window?"
Elena stood up.
"It was a three-contour seal with an embedded array of free runes," she declared confidently.
Ardan struggled to draw in breath. Over the past few minutes, he hadn’t understood a single word that had been said. He’d pored over the textbook Mart had given him on the train, but it had only briefly mentioned that seals had different types, and that had been it!
"Very clever and close!" Convel clapped his hands. "But still not quite right."
By now, only three hands were still in the air, all of them belonging to the Engineering students. Of course, the professor hadn’t called on them just yet, as the question was about Star Engineering, which was their specialty.
"I see we have a particularly small number of gentlemen in the room this year," the professor’s eyes twinkled with mischief, "but that’s all the better — we’ll work in a garden of flowers... And since we’ve heard from three delightful young ladies, let’s hear from a gentleman. You, the young man in the cowboy hat — what do you think?"
Laughter rippled through the room, and Ardan inwardly cursed himself as he removed his hat. After weeks in the steppes, he had lost the habit of taking his hat off indoors.
"Well, at least you took it off," the professor remarked in good humor. "Oh, seven rays? Impressive... Impressive... Let’s see if your knowledge matches. What’s your theory?"
Theory? Ardan didn’t even know the words they were tossing around so easily here. Atta’nha had always said that sometimes, it was best to just be honest and say:
"I don’t know," Ardan replied.
Convel blinked a few times.
"Perhaps I wasn’t clear," the professor said, slightly taken aback. "I’m not asking for a direct answer, Mr...?"
"Egobar."
The professor flinched slightly, but quickly composed himself.
"Right. I’m not asking for a direct answer, Mr. Egobar," Convel repeated, his tone even. "Just a guess about the type of seal."
Ardan inwardly cursed the Stranger who had written the book he had studied from for so many years. That book hadn’t mentioned types at all, only "schools" — universal, combat, general, elemental, and the like.
"I don’t know the types of seals, professor," Ardan clarified, feeling as though he had stepped back in time to his very first day of school in Evergale.
A heavy silence fell over the lecture hall, pierced by glances filled with waves of disdain and, in some cases, oceans of irritation. For a moment, even Elena’s gaze flickered with a hint of frustration.
But Ardan didn’t blame anyone. If he’d been in their shoes, he would’ve probably felt the same.
"How... unusual," Convel cleared his throat. "As far as I’m aware, seal types are covered in the very first lessons of specialized Star Magic theory."
"We didn’t have that subject at my school," Ardan said simply. He wasn’t going to hide anything or try to make excuses. What would be the point?
The sooner he figured out what he didn’t know, as Atta’nha had taught him, the faster he could catch up.
"And where did you study?" The professor squinted at him, like a hound picking up the scent of prey.
"In a rural school."
A murmur of discontent rippled through the room. Elena, for her part, looked at Ardan with surprise rather than annoyance.
"Not a specialized school?" Convel clarified. "Just an ordinary rural school?"
"That’s right," Ardan confirmed.
The thing was, in such schools, Star Magic theory was taught not twice a week, but twice a month, and the topics were so general that... Well, to put it simply, they were taught more about safety around Ley energy devices than anything else.
"I see... That explains your lack of knowledge," the professor inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. "Take your seat, Mr. Egobar. I’ll make an exception for you this one time and pause my lecture briefly. But this will not happen again."
The professor returned to his desk, where he set down his pointer and picked up a pen and a sheet of paper, and then he began scribbling rapidly on it.
"How is that even possible?" Elena whispered to Ardan.
"What do you mean?"
"Back on the train, when the demon appeared," she said, stumbling over the word "demon," "you used some really complex war magic! And you did so without even knowing about seal types?"
"Was it really that complex?" Ardan asked in turn.
Elena stared at him as if he were some kind of strange, unknown creature.
She wanted to say more, but at that moment, the professor approached their table and placed a list of ten titles in front of Ardan.
"These are the books you’ll need to not just skim through, but practically memorize, Mr. Egobar," Convel said in the same calm, even tone from before. "That is, if you want to not only attend my lectures but actually understand anything. Not to mention the midterms this winter..."
The professor looked at Ardan with what seemed to be genuine pity before turning back to his desk.
"I apologize for the interruption, everyone," the professor said, shaking himself off like a dog emerging from water. "Now, let’s hear the correct answer. Mr. Utrov."
The half-elf from earlier stood up.
"You used not one, but two seals, Professor," he answered in a melodic, slightly sing-song voice. "The first was a single-contour seal of an even rune system, and the second was a two-contour seal with an embedded array of free runes."
"Excellent!" The professor beamed, his face lighting up as if he’d just witnessed a miracle. "You were incredibly close to the correct answer, Ms. Promyslov. Well done, Mr. Utrov. Now, let’s discuss the principle of attaching a complex-class seal to a simple-class seal, as you just witnessed. Your textbooks are already open to the correct page. So, let’s begin by looking at..."
What followed were a bunch of words and terms that made no sense to Ardan at all. It felt as though Professor Convel had switched languages entirely, leaving Ardan even more lost than before.
All he could do was furiously scribble down every single word the professor said, hoping to make sense of it later.
For the first time in a long while, Ardan felt the same thrill he had felt years ago while sitting in Atta’nha’s cave, back when she had asked him if he knew anything about the root of the Seven-Colored Nettle.