Helio was a day where castle officials took the day off. The offices of the Master of Works, Master of the Rolls, and Master of Coin were supposed to be closed for the day. However, the office of the Master of Works was open, and Draffen hadn't taken the day off.
During the previous week, there had been announcements and runners going around saying that children were to gather at a location in the outer ring, but those announcements weren't for the pilot. Rather, they were for something set for the next month.
Ezra had coordinated with Works to select students from the inner and outer ring. Ezra had suggested and named some people to give an invitation to the pilot too. He remembered the three children he had met the first time—Noren, Raydall, and Vendis—and had Rolls check which families they came from, then had the press office send invitations to their homes.
For the pilot, Ezra had printed books for basic reading and picture books as well. That was surprising in itself, since printing was not a normal thing in Bren.
Ezra had also brought the three scribes he had been teaching basic arithmetic and literacy. An initial assessment was to be made so that they could get the baseline of the children.
The meeting place was a field in the outer ring. While Bren had enough finances to build an amphitheatre, Reitz had refrained from building anything that was luxury. He had sanctioned aqueducts, bath houses, gate towers. Things that were more practical. When Ezra had checked the allocation of the budget, most of it went to food, and what remained went to savings or military because Fulment was a marcher county. There were no amphitheatres in Bren, and any infrastructure meant for entertainment was sponsored by merchants. In the end, a plain field that had no structures on it was chosen for this.
Ashen had assigned way more guards than during the project. Even though most of the contact would be children, the event would attract more people than it should. Ashen had already sanctioned a perimeter in a one hundred fifty meter radius. Most of the guards were commoners with no magic blood. Ezra had a feeling that there were more Knights scanning for potential threats much further out.
Aerwyna also, for some reason, decided to visit the outer district markets for inspection on the same day.
The chosen field was flat and wide enough to hold the first one hundred children. Ezra estimated that it could even hold up to six hundred people. Posts had been set along the edges so rope could be strung and lanes made. There were no trees for shade. From the center of the field you could see the ring road, the low roofs of the outer district, and the river haze.
Ezra and the retinue arrived before the sun went up.
The evening prior, Draffen's clerks had already set up slate boards crafted to be mounted on a frame. They weren't portable at all. It was impressive that the boards weren't stolen overnight and sold for parts. He knew neighborhoods on Earth where these things would be scrapped if left in the open for just a few hours. A few benches had been hauled in on a cart. A line of guards stood at the edges. Knights were stationed where the ring road met the field so no one could drift in from the wrong direction.
The children began to arrive after the sun was fully up. Most of them were escorted by clerks assigned by the Master of Works. Ezra appreciated the logistics that went with this. If he thought about it, it was too much work for a whim of a child, but Ezra had been slowly taken seriously by the Maesters.
Most of the children that came first were from the outer ring. They wore patched clothes and work shoes. A few were from the inner ring and looked cleaner, with better coats. They looked less like they wanted to learn and looked more like they wanted to curry favor with the lord than anything.
Raydall, Noren, and Vendis arrived early. Their eyes said that they were mostly satisfied.
They sat on the grass with bowls that were still warm in their hands. The broth was thick and had salt and fat, and the bread was fresh enough that it tore soft instead of crumbling.
Raydall tore his piece in half and dipped it until it sagged.
"This is real bread," he said, mouth full.
Vendis held his bowl close with both hands like he was guarding it. He took a quick sip, then another.
"They said there'd be food," Vendis said. "I thought they meant a crust."
Raydall made a short laugh. "A crust is food."
Vendis shot him a look, then drank again.
Noren chewed slower than the other two, eyes moving around the field. He kept watching the rope lines and the guards, the slate boards set up on frames, the benches, the scribes with their chalk.
"This is that lord," Noren said, voice lower. "The little one."
Raydall paused. "The one from the gate?"
Noren nodded once. "Aye."
Vendis swallowed. "Why's he feedin' us?"
Raydall shrugged. "Maybe he likes seein' folk eat."
Noren shook his head. "He's doin' somethin'. Look."
He nodded toward a scribe holding up a slate and showing marks to a child. The child stared like it was a trick.
Raydall followed his gaze. "They're writin'."
Vendis scraped the bottom of his bowl with his bread. "So?"
"So if you can read," Noren said, and hesitated like he was choosing the words, "you can do the jobs where they don't hit you for bein' slow."
Raydall frowned. "What jobs?"
Noren took another bite, then said it like it was obvious. "The ones where you sit. The ones with paper. The ones where you count."
Raydall looked at the slate boards again, then at his hands. "That's clerk work."
Noren nodded hard. "Aye. An' clerks get coin. More coin than carryin' buckets."
Vendis snorted. "Clerks don't carry nothin'. They just point."
"That's the point," Noren said, and his mouth pulled into something close to a grin. "If I can read the signs proper, I can read the papers too. Then I can get a job where my back don't hurt."
Raydall stared at him for a second, then tore off another piece of bread. "I want a job where they give this every day."
Vendis looked down into his empty bowl like it had betrayed him. "I want a job where I get two."
Noren wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Then don't act stupid when they call you."
Raydall rolled his eyes. "I ain't stupid."
Vendis said, "You are a bit."
Raydall leaned forward like he was going to shove him, then stopped when a guard's shadow fell across them.
All three of them went still.
The guard didn't speak. He only looked down at their bowls, then toward the lanes.
Raydall lowered his voice. "They're startin'."
Noren nodded. "Eat fast."
Vendis said, urgent, "I already did."
Raydall broke the last of his bread and held it out for a second. Vendis stared at it.
Raydall hesitated, then pushed it into Vendis's hand anyway.
"Don't tell nobody," Raydall muttered.
Vendis grabbed it and ate it like someone might take it back.
Noren watched them both, then looked up again toward the tables.
"Just… listen," he said. "If they ask you, you answer."
Raydall swallowed. "Aye."
Vendis nodded with his mouth full.
The outer ring children looked more curious, but they looked more excited about the prospect of eating than they were about learning anything. As soon as they arrived, food had been distributed to them. Surprisingly there were fewer parents than the inner ring counterparts. When Ezra thought about it, it made sense because the outer ring was more competitive when it came to work. Both parents had obligations or else they wouldn't eat. For them, today meant fewer mouths to feed aside from themselves.
The children were met with broth and bread. The outer ring children ate until they had their fill, but the children in the inner ring ate like it was compliance rather than something to be grateful for.
After an hour of eating, the clerks took their names and organized them into groups. Ezra had instructed the clerks that the class he handled should have more children, since Hearth and Caspian would be assisting him. Instead of a fair division, Ezra ended up with all of the outer ring children. The split was forty-sixty. Hugo, Louis, and Delmon had twenty students each.
Ezra watched from the side, with the books stacked on a table that had been set under a simple awning.
Ezra looked at Hugo as if to remind him of what he should be doing.
When enough children were present, Hugo raised his hand.
"Four groups," the clerk said. "You will be assigned. You will stay in your group. If you move, you will be moved back."
One group was put to the left side of the field, one to the right, one to the center, and one nearer the benches. A scribe was assigned to each. The scribes Ezra had been teaching looked different from the clerks: younger, less certain, but focused. They had slates and chalk, and they kept looking toward Ezra like they expected him to correct them.
Ezra did not correct them in front of the children. He only nodded once, and the scribes took that as permission to begin.
The assessment started simple.
The scribes called the children forward one by one and asked their names. They watched how they answered. Some spoke quickly. Some barely spoke at all. The scribes asked them to count stones placed on the slate. They asked them to recognize marks—basic letters, copied plainly. Nothing ornate.
The children from the inner ring could identify the letters fast. The ones in the outer ring could barely identify anything. Some were shy. Some weren't. There was an obvious divide between the two. It gave more reason that the scribes would handle children from the inner ring. It would be easier for them to manage children who were at the same level.
For the pilot, children from ages eight to ten were selected. For now that was the target demographic, until Ezra could manage to put more hands on this project.
The outer ring children's literacy varied wildly. Ezra detected a pattern. For each of the students for the pilot, Ezra had instructed some of the scribes to make a dossier. He noticed that children who frequented regions with many signages became much more familiar with the letters.
The children from the outer ring didn't know letters the way a notary knew letters. Most of them knew shapes. They had seen the signs on shops. They had seen a symbol painted on a barrel. They had seen a mark above a door.
They had familiarized themselves with things without actually being taught, which Ezra thought was impressive.
Ezra stepped forward when the clerk motioned him.
"Lord Ezra," a clerk whispered, "the three you asked after are here." Ezra saw them eating and motioned to them.
Noren stood first, hands at his sides, trying to look older than he was.
Raydall was beside him, eyes moving, taking everything in.
Vendis stood a half step back. He looked like he expected to be shoved.
Ezra crouched so he was closer to their height.
"You came," Ezra said.
They nodded quickly.
Hearth and Caspian led the three to the frontmost benches.
"Come here with the others. They are going to ask you questions," Ezra said to them.
Ezra had instructed the clerks to prepare notebooks for each of the children. Each of them was pressed, bound, and ruled. He knew that they couldn't use them yet, but learning to write earlier was better. Most of the children in the inner ring had learned how to write with quills and sand. Ezra also had the clerks prepare slate tablets and chalk for practice. A knapsack with writing materials, notebooks, and two books was prepared and handed out to everyone.
The outer ring children eyed the bags like prizes. The inner ring children eyed them with curiosity. Even with the press, in the current situation of things, books were still quite prized.
Dynham stood at the center, cleared his throat, and used mana to amplify his voice. "Listen all, these materials are the property of the Lord of Blackfyre. They are not to be considered yours. Each week from now on, we will be inspecting the books and notebooks. All items in the knapsack, save for wooden ink bottles, must be presented next week. If any book is missing, it shall be paid for in full."
He paused and looked toward the children again. "If you are unsure of whether you will be able to handle the books correctly, you may leave it with the clerks, and you may be able to get them next meeting. Does everyone understand?"
There was a resounding yes among the children.
"Reckon we can sell them," Raydall said.
Noren looked at him curiously. "We can't. We'd have to pay for them. Best we just give them to the clerks after."
Vendis stayed silent and flipped through the book. The reading book had lots of illustrations. Vendis was enamored by it.
"It's my first time even holding one," Vendis blurted.
Raydall and Noren, as if struck by lightning, shuddered.
"Yeah, these things are worth more than three years' worth of grain," Raydall said.
"Best give them back," Noren repeated.
Raydall nodded.
"I don't know," Vendis said. "I just might bring mine back."
Raydall and Noren looked at him funnily.
"No. I'm definitely not planning to sell it," Vendis said. "I… I just want to try to use it."
Noren nodded. "Then it is settled. We bring one. If one of us needs it, we borrow it."
Raydall nodded and agreed.
Ezra placed a slate in front of the three.
He wrote a line of letters, careful and plain. The same hand he had used in his printed books.
"Tell me what these are," Ezra said.
Noren leaned forward. He pointed at the first letter. "I seen that one."
"Where?" Ezra asked.
Noren hesitated, then answered anyway. "On the baker's sign."
Raydall nodded quickly. "Me too."
Vendis pointed at another. "That's on the smith's board."
Ezra waited.
"Do you know what sound it makes?" Ezra asked.
They went quiet.
Raydall tried first. He made a sound that was wrong, but it was an attempt.
Noren tried next. He guessed.
Vendis did not guess. He looked at the slate and then at Ezra.
Ezra nodded, like that was useful information rather than a failure.
"You know the shapes," Ezra said. "Not the sounds."
They nodded again.
Ezra wrote a few simple words beneath the letters. Short ones. The kinds that appeared on signs.
He pointed.
Raydall's eyes narrowed. He traced the first word with his finger, then looked up.
"That one is 'bread,'" Raydall said, uncertain. "It's on the shop."
Noren nodded hard. "Aye."
Ezra didn't smile, but he felt the shape of it. That recognition existed already. The city had done part of the work without knowing it.
"You know words," Ezra said. "You can match them."
They watched him carefully.
"That's still a start," Ezra said.
He slid three small stones onto the table.
"Count," Ezra said.
Noren counted without hesitation. "Three."
Ezra put two more down. "Now."
"Five," Raydall said immediately, before Noren could speak.
Ezra moved the stones into two piles, three and two.
"How many in each?" Ezra asked.
"Three," Noren said.
"Two," Vendis said.
Ezra looked at Vendis. "You were quiet."
Vendis stared back. "I know numbers."
Ezra placed ten stones in a line, then swept them into a pile.
"How many?" he asked.
Raydall looked, then said, "Ten."
Ezra placed twelve. Then thirteen. Then fifteen.
They were slow at fifteen, but they got it.
They were not trained. They were not taught formal arithmetic. But they had handled coin. They had watched weights. They had seen men count nails into a box.
They were good with numbers in a basic way.
Ezra wrote the numerals beneath the piles.
"This is the mark for ten," he said. "This is the mark for five."
Noren stared at the marks. "I seen that in the market."
Ezra nodded. "You saw it. You didn't know what it was."
Raydall leaned closer. "So it's a mark for ten."
"Yes," Ezra said.
Vendis looked at the slate, then at the stones, then back at the slate. He didn't speak, but Ezra could see him matching, the same way he matched shop signs.
"You need to familiarize yourselves with this, but these won't be the symbols we will use going forward."
All of them looked at him curiously.
"These symbols will be easier to work with once we go to something more advanced."
Hearth and Caspian assisted Ezra less and handled much of the assessment themselves. The batch Ezra had was less rowdy than he had expected. Being from the outer ring, Ezra expected them to be unruly. Ezra had a hunch that aside from the three he picked, Kestel had already prepared the most behaved children.
Hearth kept order when other children drifted too close. He didn't threaten them. He stood and redirected them, and they listened because he wore a sword and a squire's tabard.
Caspian handled the books and slates, passing them out and taking them back. He was careful with the printed pages, as if he expected them to tear or smear like ink on wet parchment.
A few children in Ezra's group watched Caspian more than they watched the letters. When Caspian spoke, they copied his tone.
Ezra noted it.
He made a note of the three in front of him as well.
Noren was quick to answer when he was sure.
Raydall watched first and spoke second. He didn't like being wrong.
Vendis was quiet, but he was not slow. He held things in his head, and when he answered, it was usually right.
By midday the assessments were mostly complete.
The scribes had lists now: who could count, who could recognize letters, who froze when asked anything at all. They had baselines.
Ezra had the clerk gather the returned books and had Hearth carry the stack. Caspian collected the slates.
For the rest of the day, the ones assigned to teach had already checked and assessed everyone. It was obvious that they weren't accustomed to this form of teaching and would have a hard time handling multiple questions from multiple different people. The Kanzlei operated in an apprenticeship model, which was more tailored to the individual. Even with hiccups, Ezra marked the pilot as a success.
The shape of society would always come from the foundations. Ezra knew that if he wanted to have a bigger impact in the larger society, he had to target the grass roots. If he could nudge the children and mold them and teach them how to think, with the core knowledge that he had, it would multiply. He was a single person, but if a generation grew up with him and communicated the same knowledge he had, exponential growth wasn't far off.