Entering the Academy - 1
The heart of the Academy, and its very symbol. The main building, said to have been raised by the Apels Empire itself—every architectural art of the age and every renowned artist of the day summoned for the work. Centuries had passed since the Academy’s founding, yet even now the building still ranked among the five most beautiful structures on the entire continent whenever anyone bothered to argue the point.
Bards had taken one look at it and begun composing on the spot; painters had produced masterpieces that defined an era. Stories like that were hardly rare where this building was concerned. It probably had some grand official name, but I neither knew it nor cared. Everyone just called it the main building anyway.
I gazed up at it with a distant, almost wistful look.
I should have come here four years ago.
A masterpiece of architecture and art? One of the continent’s most celebrated buildings, the muse of countless artists? So what? I would have walked through those doors even if the place had been a plank shack or a felt yurt. What mattered was the inside, not the façade. The thought that generations of people had come and gone, dazzled by the exterior while remaining blind to what truly lay within, filled me with a rage I could barely contain.
Four years ago I should have ignored whatever the family head said and enrolled without looking back. If I had spent even three full years here and graduated properly, I would never have ended up living like this—even if I had still become a civil servant afterward. I was certain of it. Attending the Imperial Academy would have rewritten my entire life…
“I almost never cry, and yet here I am tearing up.”
Of course I wasn’t.
Half strange excitement at finally standing in the place I had longed for, half pure fury that I had only arrived on official business—I carried both feelings in my chest as I stepped down from the carriage. The moment my boots touched solid ground, I staggered.
Whoa—shit!
I recovered my balance at once and glanced at the coachman. Luckily he was busy combing the horse’s mane and had missed the whole thing. Good. The news that a department chief barely into his twenties already couldn’t keep his feet under him would have hit the Ministry of Finance like a thunderclap.
“Look at you, you skinny bastard. Locked yourself in that office so long your muscles all wasted away.”
So it was true.
The Minister’s words floated back to me. I prodded my legs experimentally. Strange—they didn’t feel that bad. Was it just too much time glued to a desk? Or had my body forgotten how to handle a carriage after so long? Whatever the reason, it wasn’t good news.
Ugh… fuck.
I had been fine the entire ride, and now the motion sickness hit me like a delayed aftershock. Land-sickness, was that the term? While I was locked in combat with this belated, spectacularly late nausea, the coachman approached and bowed.
“I shall take my leave now.”
“Ah. Good work. Travel safely.”
“Yes, sir. Please take care of your health as well, Chief.”
He bowed once more, climbed onto the box, and drove off at a brisk pace. A coachman’s duty ended at delivery; once the job was done, the smartest move was to vanish as quickly as possible. No one was going to throw a diplomatic fit over a single coachman, but lingering longer than necessary would only invite suspicious stares. People who didn’t belong in a place always became eyesores if they overstayed. I had learned that lesson the hard way, many times over.
I watched the carriage disappear, then turned my eyes back to the main building. Now I was truly alone. Time to begin the Academy inspection chronicles of a twenty-one-year-old civil servant. Wow. Truly something I had never once wanted, even in my dreams…
With leaden steps I trudged toward the main building, intending to find the principal’s office. Just then someone burst out in a hurry. Oh—my welcoming committee.
The man came running, the blue cloak that marked Academy faculty streaming behind him. He paused to catch his breath, then offered a smile.
“I am Raymond, Vice Principal of the Academy. Might you be the Inspector we were told to expect?”
“I am.”
“Good heavens, I meant to meet you right on time and still arrived late. My apologies. The morning meeting ran longer than expected and has only just finished.”
He held out his hand with a friendly grin; I shook it.
“Meetings that actually end on schedule are the rare ones.”
“Thank you for understanding. I felt terrible keeping so distinguished a guest waiting.”
“I only just arrived myself.”
It was true. I had come straight from saying goodbye to the coachman; even if I had gotten here earlier, the time I entered the building would have been the same. Honestly I wished he had been a little later still—I needed a moment for my stomach to settle. I felt like I was about to throw up…
Once it became clear that Karl truly didn’t mind, the Vice Principal relaxed; his slightly stiff smile softened into something more natural. Even a routine Inspector who only dropped by for ceremonial paperwork could decide to turn the entire Academy upside down if his pride was wounded.
And this particular Inspector was no ordinary visitor. The Minister of Finance himself had dispatched an emergency auditor to handle the spectacular freshman class now enrolling. This was not someone who would glance around for a week and leave; at minimum they would be living with him for months. Realizing he had been late for the very first meeting with such a man had nearly stopped the Vice Principal’s heart.
A little less tense now, Raymond ventured a question.
“I was told the Minister of Finance sent you personally. If it isn’t improper, may I ask your name?”
“It wasn’t passed along?”
“It’s customary for Inspectors to remain anonymous until they actually arrive at the Academy. The idea is that knowing the name in advance would allow people to make contact and collude beforehand.”
“I see. This is my first inspection assignment.”
At that the Vice Principal gave him a puzzled look. The man already looked young; now he claimed to know little about inspection work itself. The Minister had chosen him personally, so he couldn’t be entirely unqualified—but the doubt was hard to ignore.
“I am Karl Crassius, Chief of the Audit Department.”
“Oh! What an honor to meet the renowned Chief in person. The Minister has truly taken special care of us. We are most grateful.”
Raymond tried to play it off smoothly, but the tremor at the corner of his eye and the sudden agitation were impossible to hide. That mad old man has unleashed a monster on the Academy. The thought flashed through his mind; after that he spoke far less and quietly quickened his pace.
Karl Crassius, Chief of the Audit Department. Even a lifelong educator who had climbed all the way to Vice Principal and rarely left the Academy grounds had heard that name countless times. He had never once wanted to meet the man in person. For anyone who drew an imperial salary, an unexpected encounter with the Audit Department Chief usually ranked among the greatest disasters of a lifetime.
Even knowing Karl had not come to destroy him, Raymond still broke out in a cold sweat. The moment they reached the principal’s office he knocked on the door with the reverent haste of a zealous believer who had just found the gates of heaven.
“Principal. I have brought the Inspector.”
“Come in.”
Raymond flung the door open at once.
“Please go right in. It was an honor to escort you, Inspector.”
“The honor was mine—meeting one of the Academy’s leading minds.”
The Vice Principal gave an awkward smile, confirmed that Karl had entered, and fled for the safety of his own office. They would be seeing a great deal of each other from now on, but today’s meeting had come with no mental preparation whatsoever, and the shock had been severe.
An old man with long white hair and a flowing white beard—exactly the image of a wise sage lifted straight from a fairy tale. The Principal of the Academy regarded the young man who entered his office with quiet, measuring eyes.
So the Audit Department Chief has arrived.
Black hair, black eyes, and the black uniform that was the Audit Department’s trademark. A complete monochrome figure.
“It has been a while, Chief. Two years, is it?”
The Principal offered the greeting with a gentle smile. The Chief of the Audit Department gave a small nod and answered.
“We last met at His Excellency the Minister’s inauguration, so yes—about that long. I trust you have been well, Principal.”
“The young people work so hard these days that this old man rarely has to step forward. I have been living in good health.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
Karl took a seat without further ceremony and simply watched the Principal in silence. When those pitch-black eyes fixed on him, the Principal swallowed without meaning to. The man sitting across from him had been sent by the Minister of Finance himself to deal with the Academy’s current freshman catastrophe, but even setting that official role aside, Karl outranked him.
The Principal of the Academy received the same treatment as a department chief within the Ministry of Education—just as the Audit Department Chief did within the Ministry of Finance—yet in protocol the Audit Department Chief stood above the Principal.
Just then the Principal’s secretary set tea before both men and withdrew. The movement was so quiet Karl had barely registered the secretary’s presence. Even someone normally so brisk had instinctively shrunk and held their breath.
And this man is only as old as last year’s graduates…
A dry laugh nearly escaped. Even thinking of last year’s graduates, the Principal could still picture them laughing and chattering as they wandered the grounds. And this man was the same age. The cognitive dissonance was almost painful.
“This is tea imported from the Uven Alliance. Famous for its distinctive fragrance. I hope it suits your taste as well, Chief.”
In any case the tea had been served, making it a perfect way to ease the atmosphere. At the Principal’s invitation Karl lifted the cup, took exactly one sip, and set it down again. Then he looked at the Principal once more and spoke.
“I have been briefed on the difficulties the Academy is facing.”
“That those who wish to learn would cross even national borders to gather at the Academy is something we welcome. It is not so much difficulty as… concern that we may fail to live up to the expectations of such eager students.”
“Is that so?”
Karl gave a slight nod and fell silent again—the clear posture of a man who had nothing more to say and expected the other party to fill the air. There was nothing for it but to play along. The one who needed something was the Academy, not him.
“I cannot tell you how reassuring it is to have the Audit Department Chief here. Compared with the precious students who have gathered, our security personnel have actually decreased, and the anxiety was considerable. But now I can set my mind at ease.”
“You flatter me.”
“Flattery? Your renown is known to everyone, is it not? The punishment of four count houses half a year ago, the Aeshilon marquisate a year before that—I still remember both vividly.”
Even under praise so thick it might have embarrassed the recipient, Karl merely lowered his gaze to the teacup, looking thoroughly uninterested. Still the Principal pressed on. He intended to list the Chief’s accomplishments and then pivot smoothly into a request that those same abilities be used to preserve order at the Academy.
“And especially two years ago in the North—”
At those words, the eyes that had been fixed on the teacup lifted and settled on the Principal.
Ah.
Disaster. In his eagerness to heap praise he had mentioned the one thing that should never have been mentioned.
Karl watched the flustered Principal close his mouth, then quietly curved the corners of his lips. His eyes did not smile; anyone could see the expression was forced.
“I misspoke, Chief. Age must be catching up with me—I do this from time to time.”
“Anyone can make a mistake. Please don’t let it trouble you.”
He did not deny that it had been a misspoken word. The Principal smiled bitterly; Karl rose from his seat.
“I will not neglect my duty to the Empire. There is no need for the Principal to worry on that account.”
“I am grateful for those words.”
“Then I shall take my leave first.”
“Yes, of course. We will inform you separately of your lodgings.”
Karl gave a silent nod, turned on his heel, and walked straight out of the principal’s office. Only after confirming he was gone did the Principal let out a long breath and sink back into his chair.
“I really have grown old. To make a blunder like that…”
He wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and muttered. The secretary asked carefully,
“By ‘mistake’… do you mean the part about the North?”
The secretary had eyes and ears; it was obvious which words had provoked the reaction. But the reason remained a mystery. The man had shown no interest at all when count houses or marquisates were mentioned—why react to the North?
Seeing the question in the secretary’s eyes, the Principal shook his head.
“Forget that remark. You could find out if you looked, but I recommend you don’t.”
“Ah… yes.”
“Good. That’s best. When a man himself prefers not to speak of something, digging it up is simply improper.”
The words sounded half like advice to the secretary and half like a reminder the Principal was giving himself.
The North. Four years earlier the nomads had risen in force, and for two years the Great Subjugation War had raged across those lands. And the Audit Department Chief had been one of the figures at the very center of it.
Ugh, fuck—I really feel like I’m going to die.
I had bolted from the principal’s office and was hunting for a washroom. My body had already been acting strange from the moment I stepped out of the carriage; talking with the Vice Principal had pushed it to the brink, and by the time I entered the principal’s office I was hovering at the edge of disaster. One wrong move and the whole performance would have reached its finale, so I had poured every scrap of concentration into keeping my stomach under control.
That was why I barely remembered a word the Principal had said. Only when he mentioned the North did some instinctive reaction snap me back into focus long enough to look at him properly.
Damn old man and his unnecessary mouth.
Even two years later the subject was still one I preferred to avoid, but it was nothing I could hide forever—nor anything that needed hiding. So I had used it as a perfectly legitimate excuse to leave the room. I felt a little bad for the startled Principal, but I had been startled too. Call it a draw.
Now where the hell is the washroom? Why is this place so huge?