Ryan opened his eyes to a wooden ceiling he did not recognize.
For a moment, he thought he was still in a nightmare. But the pain in his right shoulder – where a wooden splinter had pierced his skin the night before – reminded him of reality.
He was in the "Silent Traveller's Inn" .
He sat up slowly. His entire body ached. His stomach from Sorin's kick, his back from crashing into the wall, his shoulder from the wound. He looked at the makeshift bandage – a piece of his torn shirt – stained with dried blood.
He rose with difficulty. He took off his dirty shirt. He looked at his body in the small mirror hanging on the wall.
The scars. They were everywhere
Old burns on his chest and arms. Some white and smooth, others still pink and rough. He raised his hand to his neck – the scars there were less visible, always hidden beneath his high collar.
He put his dirty shirt back on. He had no other. A high collar – at least that was good. He tightened his belt. He hung his sword on his left hip. He looked at his brass identification card for a moment. Engraved on it:
"Ryan Darvin – Eastern Kingdom – Age: 13"
He didn't know how, but his age on the card somehow increased every year.
He sighed. He put the card in his pocket. He left the room.
He went down to the ground floor. The elderly innkeeper was wiping the counter with a blue cloth. He looked at Ryan. He saw the dirty shirt. He saw the dried blood on the shoulder.
he asked.
"Are you going out like this?"
"Yes."
The innkeeper stopped wiping. He put the blue cloth aside. Then he bent under the counter and took out a simple white shirt and a clean black pair of trousers. He placed them on the counter.
Ryan asked.
"What is this?"
the innkeeper said in his usual dry voice.
"You will wear these."
Ryan looked at the clothes. Then at the innkeeper.
"Why are you doing this?"
the old man paused for a moment and he looked into Ryan's eyes.
"What will people say about me if a customer leaves my hotel dressed like that?"
Then he pushed the clothes toward Ryan.
"So just take them."
Ryan hesitated for a moment. Then he took the clothes.
he said quietly.
"Thank you."
the innkeeper said, returning to wiping the counter.
"The bathroom is at the end of the hall."
Ryan put on the white shirt – it was a little loose, but its collar was high enough. He put on the black trousers – they fit almost right. He looked at himself in a small mirror on the wall.
Not perfect. But better than before.
Then He left the inn.
The streets of Lusaris had just woken up.
Merchants opening their shops, children running to bakeries, the smell of coffee and spices filling the air. The sun was low, golden.
Ryan stopped at a street corner. He looked around. He did not see a blue dome on the horizon. He was lost.
He saw a man carrying a basket of bread, walking quickly. He approached him.
"Excuse me. Where is the academy?"
The man looked at him. He saw his loose white shirt, his high collar, his tired eyes. He pointed north.
"Head north towards the Blue Dome."
Then he continued on his way without waiting for thanks.
Ryan walked north. After a few minutes, the blue dome began to appear on the horizon.
in the end He reached the academy gate. It was made of ebony wood carved with golden lines. Above it stood a statue of a faceless woman.It wasn't a huge statue like the one in front of the city gate, but it was of the same woman.
He stood in a short line of young men and women. They ranged in age. Some were accompanied by their families, others alone like Ryan.
After a few minutes, his turn came. A clerk sat behind a wooden counter – a thin man in his forties, wearing thick round spectacles.
"Your identification card."
Ryan took out his brass card.
The clerk looked at the card. Then at Ryan. At his loose white shirt, at his high collar, at his tired eyes.
"Ryan Darvin... from the east?"
"Yes."
"Age: thirteen years." He handed him a wooden token. "Your turn is seventeenth. Wait in the hall."
Ryan entered the waiting hall. He sat in the back row.
After about a quarter of an hour
He heard a voice call: "Number seventeen!"
He stood. He walked toward the door. He pushed it open.
He entered the Grand Examination Hall.